46. Bernini's Beata Ludovica Albertoni, in the Church of San Francesco a Ripa, Rome. If you've finished whatever you've been drinking at the Bar San Calisto, and look down Via di Francesco a Ripa, the church is there, at the end. So we'll take a walk, through the Piazza di San Calisto, perhaps admiring the various shades of orange the Romans adore, there's a church, on the left where there's always something happening, weddings, funerals, confirmations, services, but it's not the church of our intended destination, and a little further there's the world's greatest delicatessen, Antica Caciara, "Potrei avere quel pane per favore", then the farmacia where they understand English better than most, and we've reached Viale di Trastevere, with the cafe on the corner, and crossing, avoiding the number 8 tram, the enoteca might tempt, although there's a supermarket further on, but eventually passing the produtti biologici if health foods are your thing, the lavanderia with the widescreen television permanently tuned to some music channel, the optical art place that i'm hoping will die soon enough, the tabacchi on the corner of Via Della Luce, and up there, at 40, is where I used to live, but crossing the Piazza di San Francesco D'Assisi, a rather wonderful name for what's virtually a carpark, and into the church itself, and i don't care if Ludovica Albertoni is meant to be in her death throes, as to me, that's an orgasm face if ever I saw one.