When you gotta go, you should make sure you have the most beautiful of statues on top of your grave (unless of course, you prefer to go up in smoke). I was telling you yesterday about my visit to Campo Cestio, the tranquil old cemetery in Piramide, that is home to John Keats and Percy Shelley, amongst other luminaries.

Franco almost had to haul me out of there. I didn’t want to leave. The cemetery is large but not so large that you can’t comfortably take it all in over a few hours. On our way to the gravesite of Goethe, I had to stop. I spotted the MOST beautiful grave I’ve ever seen.

A large, weeping angel was draped over the tomb of an American woman. I thought I’d taken a photo of her details but bollocks, I can’t seem to find it. I remember she was born in Boston and died around the 1850s. The dominant feature is this beautiful angel, one arm extended, with her head resting forlornly on the other arm. A silent witness of a life long extinguished. The back of the statue has to be seen to be believed – the detail of the wings and dress is simply stunning. I found it the most touching of scenes but am kicking myself that I can’t tell you the name of the person buried there. Not to worry: I’m going back and will get the details. I feel the woman’s name should be known.

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