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fromCN Traveller
1 hour agoThis sunny European city has just been voted the world's most colourful
Lisbon is the world's most vibrant city, scoring 100/100 with 2,633,070 unique colors.
Originally known as Sneads Court on John Rocque's map of London in 1746, the area was wider and more of a courtyard than an alley. Over time, it was renamed Hertford Place and later Yarmouth Mews as the neighborhood evolved into larger hotels and grand houses.
When we saw this home - with its east-west exposures and windows that could be seen on both sides - we were immediately sold. It was the third house we looked at, and we were so lucky the owner accepted our offer. It was a very competitive moment for home sales in the neighborhood, and the fact we were able to make it happen felt like a dream.
"[The project] has finally restored the perception of the monument's original size and floor level," architect Stefano Boeri said in a statement. "It also offers the public the opportunity to approach its walls and imagine the rhythm and sequence of the ambulatories and arches, now lost. It's a respectful and useful project that completes research carried out by the archaeologists of the Colosseum Archaeological Park."
Only in Rome can you take your morning espresso with a view of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. There's something kind of glamorous-tongue-in-cheek, even-about casually waking up in a cozy Airbnb and opening your eyes to a site where hundreds of thousands of brave gladiators engaged in combat for over 350 years.
"The ruins from the Middle Ages are part of our common history. With these grants, we are strengthening the work that makes it possible to preserve them, not only as historical traces, but also as living sources of knowledge for both researchers, craftsmen and local communities."
Craft is often defined as skill in making things by hand, but this interpretation is being challenged by AI. Craft transcends physical interaction; historical figures like Mozart and Beethoven exemplify mastery without traditional methods.
"It's a really special spot. When you start at the top and move down the gently sloped ramp, you almost feel like a marble tumbling down, looking at art as you roll by. The slight slant plays with your sense of perspective and grounding."
The designation prohibits the sites from being targeted or used for military purposes, with violations potentially constituting serious breaches of the 1954 Hague Convention and grounds for criminal responsibility.
The whole reason we're here is we know something is impossible, but we also know it's inevitable. He pulled off a trick where a member of the audience mixed up a Rubik's Cube, then Blake presented a second cube with identically arranged colors, demonstrating the paradox of magic where the impossible becomes inevitable through skillful illusion.
The design by 1Y Architects approaches this silence as material rather than absence. Instead of clearing the debris scattered across the site, the team gathered bricks, concrete fragments, and broken tiles from former factory buildings. These remnants form the structural fabric of the sound museum itself.
The contemporary technology museum has emerged as a performative participant in the systems it seeks to document. The architecture of these institutions has become increasingly fluid and bold, often mirroring the velocity and complexity of the systems it houses. They operate as mediators between the human, the ecological, and the technological realms, transforming from encyclopedic warehouses into active educational engines.
For most of its life, the alley's main feature was the church of St Martin Orgar, possibly named after Ordgarus, a Dane who donated the church to the canons of St Paul's. Sadly, most of the church was destroyed during the Great Fire of London. The badly damaged remains were restored and used by French Protestants right up to 1820.
The alley likely came into existence when the first Leadenhall Market, as a market for herbs, opened, with a long passage leading from the market to Gracechurch Street. The alley used to be longer and straighter, but the eastern half was cut off when a building was constructed on the site. That building was demolished in 2000, and archaeologists researched it for Roman remains in 2002.
In a white and sterile office that could belong to any one of the warehouses that dot this industrial strip between Brisbane's airport and horse-racing precinct, a young woman is engrossed in a puzzle. Only this puzzle comprises, perhaps, three different sets, each almost (but not quite) identical to the other and none likely to be completed. Emily Totivan wears blue plastic gloves. She is an archaeology student helping to catalogue artefacts.
The key find is a stretch of pavement made of slabs of Montjuic stone (rock extracted from the Montjuic mountain that overlooks Barcelona and has been the source of building material and infrastructure for the area since the pre-Roman Iron Age). It dates to between 15 and 10 B.C., the earliest founding years of the Roman city. It is made of precisely cut rectangular blocks, the largest of which are 1.48 long by 1.18 meters wide (approximately 5 by 4 feet).
Last summer, I found myself in Venice during peak tourist season. The crowds were suffocating. Every piazza felt like a theme park, every restaurant seemed designed for Instagram rather than actual dining. Standing on the Rialto Bridge, packed shoulder to shoulder with thousands of other visitors, I couldn't help but wonder: is this really Italy? That question stayed with me long after I returned to London.
This part of London sits just outside the historic City walls, so it attracted traders who wanted to avoid the strict rules binding City merchants. The land was later acquired by Thomas Wentworth, 1st Earl of Cleveland, who developed it, hence the main road being named Wentworth Street. If you're wondering about Ann's Place, that was probably after his wife, Anne Hopton.
The story of this corner of London runs deep. The roots of settlement here stretch back to the 10th century, when King Edgar granted 13 acres of riverside land to 13 knights (yes, an acre per knight), with permission to use it for trading along he river. By 1125, there was already a dock at St Katharine's. Over the centuries, the area grew into a small but busy community, complete with a hospital, a monastery, a school, almshouses and its own court.
What makes this canopy special isn't just that it uses 3D printing technology, though that's certainly impressive. It's the way the designers thought about the entire system. Rather than simply throwing a roof over the tombs and calling it a day, they created what's essentially a climate-control system disguised as architecture. The canopy features a double-layer envelope that does way more than keep rain off ancient stone. Built into this roof are ventilation and air extraction components that actively regulate temperature and humidity.
Picture this: you're knee-deep in renovation dust, crowbar in hand, when something unexpected tumbles from behind century-old plaster. A yellowed envelope? A strange metal box? That moment when your heart skips because you realize you might have just found something extraordinary. For some lucky homeowners, these discoveries turn out to be worth thousands of dollars, transforming a simple home improvement project into an unexpected treasure hunt.
Ba-rro: "Our starting point is always the context and what already exists." We are interested in recognizing the value of things simply because they are there, without assuming that everything must be preserved as a matter of principle. The question isn't what can be kept, but what deserves to be kept in each specific project. The decision to preserve, reveal, or remove doesn't stem from universal values or a nostalgic impulse, but from a situated interpretation: