As with many intersections in Australia (in the Canterbury council region, nearly every bleeping intersection), some in Rome have been turned into roundabouts with the intention of smoothing the traffic flow and keeping everyone on the correct side of the road.

In Australia, though, the geniuses who create these things generally have them take up most of the roadway and then beautify them with trees and shrubs and plants that make it impossible for you to see oncoming traffic that is any lower than a double decker bus. The one near my office in Pyrmont is notoriously appalling, sitting as it does near the crest of a hill. So if you are a pedestrian on the lower side of that hill, and you want to determine whether it is safe to cross, you look carefully at the tree and the bushes (through which you will NOT see oncoming traffic), sacrifice a goat to Apollo, then impersonate Usain Bolt and hope that you don't get taken out by a speeding Audi before you make it across.

Not so in Roma. The centrepieces of the roundabouts are compact, so you can see everything. They are, of course, ornate and marble like. They have an aged air about them and may not be quite as pretty as a boab tree and manicured hedges, but they're rather less potentially fatal.

If I had my time over again I probably would have shifted a little to the left for this shot; I don't think that there is enough visual space between the trees (which are of course in the grounds of the building behind and not on the roundabout) and the roundabout itself.