Reflections from the Tiber
There exists a parallel Rome, one that isn’t measured in monuments, but in suspended moments.
It’s not made of marathons from one landmark to another, but of patient pauses and sidelong glances.
It’s the city of dawn reflections on the river, of alleyways that guard their silence, of cloisters drawn in quiet geometry.
Roman stories
Not every journey begins in the same way. Some are measured in miles, others in museum tickets or snapshots collected along the way. But there are journeys that begin between the pages of a book.