Last copy of the New York Times

Today I realised what would it be to live without a print version of newspapers.

I was reading my lovely, colourful Guardian on-line, looking for news to publish on my brand new blog.

I read about Iran, about how to draw Fabio Capello. I learnt about Sally Mann controversial photography. I am one of those who open one tab for each article – hands up who’s one of those as well. The result is a long line of repetitive label “guardian.co.uk”, “guardian.co.uk”, “guardian.co.uk”. What you do next is reading and close (x), reading and close (x), reading and close (x) …

Well, at the second “reading and close (x)”, I was already tired. Somewhere in my mind I whisper “I wish I had the paper!”

I ignored the fact that in a small town near Rome is slightly – not to say totally – impossible to find a copy of the Guardian. I missed the feeling of touching the paper, turning pages, putting the broadsheet aside and deciding to read it later.

Somehow the online version made me feel under pressure!

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