I love this corner clock (can you see it?) in the seaside town of Cefalù. It’s 3:12 on September 18 at one angle, 22:27 on March 28 at another. Ah, Italy, Sicily. The land of dolce far niente. I remember when I needed a new battery for my watch and went into a jeweler’s store in Siracusa. At first, a limited vocabulary made my request rather a strange one (campanile, alas, means belltower not wristwatch.) And when I finally made myself clear, the watchman went to work. Searching for the right-sized battery and coming up with nothing, he handed my powerless watch back to me and cheerfully said, “Time has stopped for you in Siracusa.” If only.