Keep the paintboard, a spray can for the taggin'

One of the more interesting things about Italy is the sheer weight of artistry that it has. It as though art has become an essential part of the Italian culture, or at least it seems that way when I wandered about the streets and the markets and stalls within them. You truly get the impression that so many people are brought up surrounded by magnificent works of art or steeped in a culture that has produced so many great artists that many more people aspire to that way of life, even if it is just a hobby. The ability of people to produce gorgeous oil paintings, watercolour pictures or pencil drawings is definitely a marvel, and going to various Piazzas or alleyways filled with stalls or streets artists is a worthwhile past-time within Rome's streets.

However, perhaps one of the more unique and impressive artistic endeavours I was more incredible for the manner of its production rather than the end result. That's not to say the finished pieces weren't impressive, but it was the means by which they were created that was the real masterpiece. I saw only two of these 'spray can' artists, who created picture of Roman landmarks with nothing more than cardboard, various spray cans, a few stencils and some newspaper. By layering multiple colours of spray can paint, then adding additional layers after placing stencils on the 'canvas', these artists were able to produce pieces that were magnificent in their use of colour gradients. Using different colours to represent different parts of the day, and roughening the effect by splattering paint with their fingers or newspaper to give the impression of stars, clouds or foliage, they could produce quite a interest range of pieces with very few tools.

Yet the most impressive aspect was the speed at which they were created. Taking somewhere around 5 minutes to create, it was almost akin to performance art to watch these artworks being made, each one seeming like a combination of precision and spontaneous inspiration. An impressive talent from a place where artistic creativity almost appears to be commonplace.

Voulez vous danger

Since I've returned to Australia, I'll be doing post-trip blogging (in addition to anything else I might post about), with little grabs from various things I discovered while living in the UK, or on my journey home.

Today's post is a few thoughts as a result of my tour through the Tower of London. Though firstly, I'm going to go outside of the grounds to comment on The Tower Bridge. Or rather, more to voice my disappointment that "London Bridge" as I'd get the image of it in my head from my childhood is actually Tower Bridge, not London Bridge. When I actually saw London Bridge, I must confess I wasn't so sure why it falling down was such a tragedy. I certainly wouldn't have been crying out to any fair ladies over it.

The Tower of London itself is an interesting place, and although it was "never officially a prison", it certainly had its fair share of death. Including polar bears. No, I'm not joking, as at one point, the moat of the castle was effectively a sewer, and a couple of polar bears (given as gifts) got sick as a result of swimming in it and died. If that's not a trivial pursuit question, it should be.

I could comment about the standard things like beheadings and the crown jewels and so on, but that would be boring. However, I'd heard you got to look at the crown jewels for only a few seconds, but I went in the middle of the week and could look at them for as long as I wanted. I can't deny that a massive diamond is impressive, but I confess that I was most jealous of the phenomenal gold punch bowl with some of the most ornate carving I've seen. An American girl obvious agreed, as she took a photo of the thing before the guards came over and quickly forced her to delete it under threat of massive fines. How she could have possibly missed the multitude of "no camera" signs, I'll never know.

But the note I'll leave on is a little exhibit on torture. There was a small display asking people "Is torture acceptable?" There were three options and counters to keep track of the number of times each had been pushed. The figures were interesting:

• No: ~ 280,000
• Yes, as punishment: ~270,000
• Yes, to find information to prevent other crimes: ~170,000

That's food for thought.

Ice cream is gonna save the day

And I'd believe anything is possible when you're dealing with authentic Italian gelato. I'm a fan of dairy products, and ice cream and frozen yoghurt and particular favourites, but gelato in Italy is nothing short of a venerable taste-bud treat. The texture and creaminess are superb, as it's very light and delicate, yet somehow substantial. Add in the very strong flavour (pretty much for every single flavour you can purchase) and you're being treated to a truly decadent dessert experience.

Add into this mix the opportunity to sample hundreds of different flavours, and you can spend a lot of time (and euros) on eating a truckload of gelato. Within 4 hours of arriving in Italy, I'd already had two 3-scoop servings of the wonderful stuff. Highlights included delicious flavours from San Crispino (reputed to be the best gelato in Rome) such as cinnamon and ginger, zabaglione, and honey, not to mention eating a massive 6 scoop monstrosity that could have passed as lunch for some people.

Unfortunately, despite numerous stores showing videos on the "making" of gelato (though it simply showed them mixing a flavour with a gelato base) or displaying signs advertising the ability to watch its creation, I'm still completely oblivious as to how it is made. Well, I suppose some things in life must remain a mystery...

You let me change lanes, while I was driving in my car

No, I haven't been driving. Which is probably just as well, because driving in many European cities seems as though it requires both a well written will and a fairly good death wish. Take the majesty of the Arc Du Triomphe in Paris. No, this isn't another complaint about Paris, and I don't dislike the city as much as my previous posts have made out, I just figured that people would like to hear about the harsh complaints more than the wonderful sights. Perhaps a balance is required.

So taking the behemoth of a roundabout that surrounds the grandiose Arc Du Triomphe, you are presented with a spectacle that likely defies all normal road rules and probably several key aspects of self preservation. This invention has about seven or so major roads leading into it, and an unknown number of lanes going around it, for there are absolutely no road markings at all.

To an outsider, it appears to be a vehicular representation of chaos theory, or perhaps an exercise in kindness that uses up the majority of Paris' goodwill in its peak period of traffic. Cars enter and exit the roundabout in a seemingly random fashion, and frequently cut across multiple lanes of traffic without any sort of warning or even with what would seem like a perfectly rational use of indicator lights. Cars proceed slowly around in a mostly circular fashion, occasionally breaking to let someone in or out, and miraculously, the whole thing functions without a hitch.

Though I revisited it several times, I didn't see a single accident, nor even anything that I'd consider a close call. Somehow, Parisians manage to conduct a massive flow of traffic around the arc without major dramas. In fact, during my time in the city, despite numerous acts of driving that seemed to border on suicidal, I saw only a single accident. That was one car rear-ending another, and the way the entire street turned and gawked at it gave the impression that it was somewhat of a rarity. Perhaps the French aren't as rude and arrogant as stereotypes suggest - well, at least not on the road.