When I recovered from the jaw-dropping beauty of ancient art and architecture, I watched people – those who put themselves in the public eye and those who observe them. Italy was a treasure trove of observations. There were squads of middle-aged female beggars in Rome and Florence – all attired in similar print flowered blouses and long skirts, topped off by kerchiefs. The sprawl prostrate on sidewalks by the most heavily trafficked intersections with their hands outstretched, praying loudly. I watched one woman who wasn’t getting much traction. She glanced around then pushed her tin collection cup out a bit farther so that people had to detour around it or drop in a coin. When we’d finished touring the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, it…

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