Random acts of harmony

I first experienced it courtesy of the taxi driver in Ancona. In Jan Morris’s Trieste, she quotes someone offering oversimplified descriptions of the various nationalities living amongst each other in Trieste. To Italians, the observer ascribed “harmony.” When my driver arrived at my apartment on a hill overlooking the Adriatic and the town of Ancona below, he told me he would wait until the landlord arrived to make sure I wouldn't be stranded. My only regret was that I didn't have enough coins to make a more generous tip.

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