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Behind the secret door. |
When Mr Mac was a pimply teen, he was lucky enough to live in Rome. Which meant that on our 'mature age gap year' tour, I was the lucky one and had an insiders guide to off the tourist track Rome.
I loved meandering through the back alleys, scoffing down gelato for lunch (on our budget it was gelato or salami + bread - guess which I chose!) I found beauty in the smallest things, a door handle, a sewer cover, I would marvel that the buildings in Rome were centuries, (centuries!) older than Australia's oldest city.
And I often wondered what was behind the many huge doors that we walked past, and what secrets they were hiding.
And then one day we walk past an open door, and I was stunned.
I never imagined that those doors could hide the beauty that was in that courtyard.
There was a central fountain, lush greenery surrounding the sandstone walls and the staircase that went to the apartments upstairs. Hidden in amongst the greenery were wrought iron benches, and amazing mosaics covered the floor.
Behind me this little old italian woman murmured, 'bella eh?' as she walked past into the courtyard with her shopping.
Once I had seen behind the first open door, I began to see open doors everywhere. Each was a surprise waiting to explore, some were lavishly designed, some were dated and tired, but they all had their own beauty.
I would fantasise as I walked past, that I was living in one of those apartments, with my a coffee or wine, and I would be sitting in the tranquil courtyard, ignoring the city sounds, as I spent a few stolen moments day dreaming.
If you had a door that opened onto anywhere, what would be behind it?
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