On holiday recently, I arrived in Arezzo, a sleepy town in Tuscany most famous for Piero della Francesca's exquisite frescoes.
This Sunday morning, however, it was busier than Buchanan Street during the January sales. It took an hour for a crowd of thousands to stream past my cafe table, a cheerful avalanche of flag-bearing, cross-carrying worshippers who had been to hear the Pope at the cathedral. By the time I reached the piazza, all there was to see were a few swaggering carabinieri and the Pope-mobile, patiently awaiting its passenger, who was no doubt fortifying himself somewhere with a well-earned lunch.
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