As it seems, these birds are giving up the sea and moving to town, lured by bins and dumps overflowing with food chucked away by modern Romans and tourists.
I remember when they used to cool off in the river Tiber on a summer evening. You could watch them go drifting, wings out-stretched across the red rooftops, gliding gracefully between the domes of the churches in the setting sun.
Now they are everywhere, and what is worse they want your snacks. They sit on the ruins of the Forum and the Palatine Hill where the tourists attracted by their elegant white plumage pose on their side for a picture. But they also hunt and kill other birds and ravenously gulp down on the leftovers of a plate abandoned on an open air snack bar table.