The streets are beautiful in Siracusa. Just beautiful.
Even up at the top of the town where the big roads to other cities run through and the motorbikes are like plagues of sticky flies, the streets are still beautiful.
It’s the trees, and all the stone tubs of shrubbery, the shady avenues and the little lanes running down to the sea.
The childrens’ playground is quiet and cool, a haven for seniors to sit at noon. There are a lot of seniors in Siracusa. And a lot of seats.
No chance of going thirsty either.
Seeing this fountain made me think of all the fountains I saw in Rome.
While it’s tempting to keep looking along I’m also continually looking up.
Much of what’s up there stops me dead in my tracks and it’s fortunate that the streets are so uncrowded that I can come to a dead halt in the middle of the footpath without being a pest.
I wish I understood architecture. Then I could casually tell you about the different styles I’m seeing here.
I wish someone would tell me.
Absolutely stunning stuff! The people of Siracusa just go about their daily business seemingly unmindful of the beauty around them.
What are those little square holes for?
A combination of all three?
Perhaps all three. Siracusa has a pretty violent history, not surprising when you consider its outstanding position with two harbours.
This architectural style is Baroque. I know that much. Besides, I read it in the guidebook.