"Maid of Athens, ere we part, I give, oh give me back my heart" - Lord Byron

Julian had recently heard about the Trevi Fountain. She had led a sheltered life and had never heard of this tribute to Neptune and the horses that represented the sea, be it restless or calm. She marveled at the statues that stood for Abundance and Salubrity. Mary Hitler, of course, had pics taken in front of the fountain with an impatient looking Edgar, a bored looking Tuesday and a small girl looking up in awe at the magnificent marble horses. No one was particularly interested in the fact that it was the end of the Aqua Virgo, an aqueduct that was constructed in 19 BC and brought water all the way from the Salone Springs which were about 20 kms from Rome. They were off to the Coliseum next, and they thought they might skip the Duomo, with its magnificent octagonal cupola. Churches weren't their thing, no matter how old they were. Before leaving Australia they had checked out hotels in Italy and found a reasonable hotel that was close to the airport and the train station. It was within walking distance of the major sights, such as the Duomo, the Trevi Fountain and the Coliseum and had comfortable, spacious, elegant stylish rooms. It had gardens, a terrace, a bar and a restaurant the featured excellent Italian cuisine with an extensive wine list. Mary wasn't particularly fussed about well equipped gymnasiums or attractive outdoor pools. Mary wanted class.

Next stop was the Parthenon, the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. The ceiling had been painted between 1508 and 1512 which was simply mind boggling. Particularly the hand of God giving life to Adam. Julian couldn't get past that. Magnificent. Simply magnificent. Hotels in Rome were very helpful. Their rooms were nothing other than magnificent. And with panoramic views of the city. They liked that.

The family were tiring now. They had been drinking in the sights for some time now and they had soon to return to Australia. The sunburnt country. Mary was loathe to leave this culture and style and return to her small country town with its pubs and butcher shops. Beer and steak. She sighed. At least they still had Venice to look forward to. They were going to meet up with Itzaac who would show them the ropes. He had promised the canals, the Fenice, the Palazzo and the Grassi as major sights to photograph.

Mary was tiring now. Feebly she tapped out Venice hotels on her laptop. She no longer cared where they ended up. A small Venician dump would do, for all she cared. She just wanted to slip off her stilettos, sip good champagne and take a bath. The Phoenix would have to wait, no matter how many times it had risen from the ashes.