Smoking bans in Naples get residents fired up

New anti-smoking measures in Naples stipulate that no one can light up near a pregnant woman or in a park, as well as near children under 12 or in large crowds.

Will it fly? Naples councilor Gennaro Capodanno suggests that Neapolitans’ historically rebellious nature will render the ban ineffective. “However they try and enforce this, they will meet with laughter,” Capodanno says. He also points out that “close” isn’t defined: “How can they assess who’s smoking too close? Do you need to use a tape measure? And how do we know if a kid is more than 12? Does he have to carry documents on him?”

If Capodanno’s attitude is any indication of the rest of Naples’ feelings on the subject, you can expect to see cigarette smoke wafting about in the open air for the time being.

How Can Anyone Not Like Rome?

I have to confess: I saw Rome for the first time two weeks ago. I don’t know how I avoided it all these years but I did.

I always heard mixed reviews about Rome. I have a few italophile-friends who absolutely love it. I also have a few other friends who didn’t think much of it and used words like polluted, touristy, and overrated. So I was glad to finally see Rome with my own eyes. I had semi-low expectations and an open mind. The truth is that I wasn’t prepared for falling in love with Rome. But I did. It was love at first sight.

Granted, I love big cities: New York, London, Paris. I love the feeling that people actually live there. Yes, the traffic is bad and it is hectic, but to me that’s just a sign of life. Perhaps that’s part of the reason I never truly cared for Venice, Salzburg and similar “picturesque overgrown villages” that cater exclusively to tourists. Those towns would disappear if tourists suddenly stopped going there. Yes, I am sure that Rome, Paris or New York would suffer, too, if tourists stopped going there. But life would go on. People would still live there, conduct business and raise families. That is refreshing.

Walking through the beautiful streets of Rome; streets than millions of people walked in the last two thousand years, I kept thinking: How can anyone not love this city?

Gates of Paradise touring the U.S.

Every once in a while you come across something during your travels you learned about in school and, as a result, it becomes far more meaningful and relevant.

This was the case when I first laid eyes upon the Gates of Paradise in Florence, Italy.

For some reason I can’t remember, I was up just after sunrise and wandering the streets when I suddenly found myself standing in front of the gates without another tourist in sight–a very rare occurrence for this wildly popular work of art.

The gates are actually bronze doors attached to the front of San Gionvanni but they are unlike any doors I’d ever seen before. I learned about them in school from an overzealous Western Civ teacher who could not stop singing praises about the gates and as a result, I was anxious to see them. Even with such high expectations, however, the gates simply blew me away with their golden biblical depictions carved by sculptor Lorenzo Ghiberti in the 15th century. Wow. I stood there in front of the gates all by myself and just soaked it all in.

And now you can do the same without actually visiting Florence. That’s because three of the ten panels which make up the gates are currently on tour in the United States. They will be on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York until January 14, and will then travel to the Seattle Art Museum until April 6, 2008.

If you happen to be anywhere nearby, be sure to stop in for a visit. You won’t be able to avoid the crowds as I did, but you will still be left with the same, overwhelming sense of awe.

Comparing the food in Athens and Rome is unfair. But still…

Without realizing it ahead of time, I toured two of the great ancient empires this week: Rome and Greece.

I am in Athens this week and–aside from witnessing a street fight–I have had a good time. Part of the reason is that I am a foodie, and I love Greek food. Fortunately, most of my friends and travel buddies agree that a large part of the appeal of traveling is “the search for the next great meal”.

Last week, I was in Rome for a journalism conference. Cancer-reporting is probably not what you want to hear about, so I will stick to writing about food. I swear it is simply not possible to have a bad meal in Rome. Every little trattoria will be able to offer treasures that make your mouth water instantly. I would say the service is better in Rome that it is in Athens, and so is the bread. However, I love what the Greeks can do with an octopus…grilled, fried or marinated. It is always delicious.

I wonder which of these two cuisines is better for you. You don’t see very many fat people around in Rome or Greece…

The Last Supper at 16 billion pixels

The problem with the true classics of art these days is that it’s very difficult to get up close to them. The Mona Lisa, for example, is protected by bulletproof glass, a red velvet rope, and at least one guard stationed within arm’s length. Good luck getting close enough to inspect the brush strokes on that little lady!

The Last Supper, perhaps the second most famous painting on our planet is equally difficult to inspect closely.

Until now that is. Last weekend the da Vinci masterpiece was unveiled digitally at an astounding resolution of 16 billion pixels. Wow. Internet users can zoom in to the most minute detail, inspecting every fleck of paint, aged crack, and bits of weathering and damage.

Frankly, it’s a little disturbing just how much the painting has deteriorated over the last 500 years. It still, however, maintains its magic even when one zooms in so far that you no longer know what you’re looking at. And for many, this will be the best viewing they will ever have of the painting. According to a recent AP article, only 25 visitors are allowed to view the painting at a time. This equates to roughly 320,000 people per year. That’s a pretty low number. As for me, I’m content right now just zooming in online. Click here to do so yourself.