Yesterday, after walking miles through the markets at Porta Portese, we wandered back through Trastevere and found a restaurant still serving lunch. The special of the day — pollo al forno (or roast chicken) — was promoted on a sign on a birdcage, making us wonder: was this the daily special’s former home?

We walked miles today, through markets and mosques, past parks and peacocks, in a city drenched by sun and covered in a thin and constant dust that miraculously never seems to dull the extraordinary colors we’re seeing everywhere. From one second to the next, the smells shift, from curry to cardamom to cinnamon, pungent and sharp, a whirlwind of mysterious (to us) new sensations.