I wonder who owns this little yellow Vespa? How many wonderful buildings does it pass each day? Scooting around the medieval lanes close to Centro, then onto larger streets, passing decadent villas and the tree topped towers of the Giunigi. The ghost of Elise Bonaparte waves an imperial hand and the sounds of Puccini echo as musicians and singers practice tonight’s performance. A quick run out to the ancient walls of the city for some fresh air or maybe to meet il ragazzo under a chestnut tree, then a meander back, down to the long weekly market just below the walls. Perhaps it’s time for a coffee in the Piazza di Anfiteatro before heading home for lunch.
Lovely… 😀
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I often wonder that about cute little cars, especially the adorable Fiats in Italy!
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yes, those baby Smart cars – so cute.
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very apprapo..happy holidaze 2 ya frum da’ Q 😎
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Happy Holidays to you to quarksire.
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Wouldn’t that just put you in a good mood every day going outside and putting your keys into a yellow vespa? We have lots of baby pink ones here – I have no idea why because it’s mainly men I see on them.
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Yes, imagine whizzing about on a little yellow Vespa. Pink ones for men? Odd. Is that in China or have you moved again?
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No still in Shanghai 🙂 I’m thinking maybe the pink ones are cheap!
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I wonder if it is the same one I saw in Segovia……………….?
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Maybe the little yellow vespa gets around!
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Oh, how sweet… and what fun!
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I wish I could whizz around on that!
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I own a black one, called “Italian Diva” 😉
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Reblogged this on Two Bit Scooter Club.
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I once had a red and white motorbike and it travelled a lot . Here’ss something I wrote about the experiences it had::
THE BIKER
Red and white flame of power: you unbar
my prison and deliver me into
freedom’s arms. The wind of the plains sings through
me as fleet wheels spin and carry me afar.
The whole earth unfolds around: vineyards yield
their ripened clusters in smiling valleys,
silver castles pass while the sun dallies
with my face and heaven’s grace is revealed.
There is ecstasy in the engine’s pulse,
a leap of joy in the throttle’s release:
swiftness and light, sky and motion’s increase
transfigured into a boundless impulse.
And when, through traffic and concrete, I ride
to work I don’t care: these wheels have had sight
of alpine glaciers and the eagle’s flight
and blue waters by the sea’s golden side.
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Great poem Francis, wonderful imagery, I’m on that bike with you. tanks for popping it here so it can be read by me again and hopefully others.
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