"Difficulties with the map. . . The one I bought, the Nuovissima Pianta, had been impossible to avoid, pressed upon me at every counter, by every vendor. Very newest it may have been, but not satisfactory. It is large, and I was in a constant state of needing to unfurl it in its entirety. Not canvas-backed, it is printed on brittle paper which disintegrates almost before you touch it. Rome throughout February into March is windy, draughts if there are not gust, gusts if there are not outright gales: the Pianta forever was rearing up to wrap itself blindingly round my face. […] Every evening I engraved that day's route on it in blue pencil, scoring the wretched paper with arrows, circles, x's and stars. My origional copy of the Pianta, having early writhed itself into tatters and broken into sections along the foldings, gave out completely under the pencil-diggings; as in turn, did its successors. I had to replace the Pianta five or six times. Each fresh copy carried fresh crops of markings: had the thing only been durable, I could have watched my pattern embroider itself as a whole on one."   Elizabeth Bowen,    A Time in Rome (1959)