In what can only be described as a triumph of civilisation over the pure, unadulterated chaos of tourism, Italy has restored a priceless 2,000-year-old bull mosaic after a gaggle of gormless visitors reduced it to rubble. The mosaic, which once graced the floors of a Roman villa in the Veneto region, was trampled by a herd of Instagram-obsessed troglodytes who apparently believe that 3rd-century art is an acceptable backdrop for a doing-a-keg-stand selfie. Enter stage left: the British Museum.
Yes, the very same institution that houses the Elgin Marbles under dubious legal circumstances has now been called upon to lend its expertise. Because nothing says 'cultural preservation' quite like a bunch of chaps who can't decide whether to return the loot or keep it for the 'benefit of humanity'. The Italians, to their credit, have reassembled the mosaic with such precision that you can almost hear the bull bellowing 'Per favore, keep your Birkenstocks off my face'.
But let's not kid ourselves: this is a band-aid on a bullet wound. The real problem is that we have turned every archaeological site into a human petting zoo. We need more than experts in restoration; we need bouncers with tasers and a zero-tolerance policy for anyone who sneezes in the direction of antiquity.
The British Museum's involvement is a masterstroke of diplomatic irony: the same nation that cheerfully pilfered half the world's heritage now arrives to tell Italy how to glue their broken bits back together. It's like bringing in a fox to redesign the chicken coop. Meanwhile, at the British Museum, they're probably dusting off the Parthenon marbles and muttering 'There but for the grace of Glyndebourne go we.
' But let's raise a glass to the mosaic, now restored to its former glory, and to the British Museum experts who will doubtless write a monograph on the experience, eat a nice lunch, and then return to London to argue about whether the Rosetta Stone should be kept in a humidity-controlled room or just left in the gift shop. The bull is back. The tourists are still coming.
And somewhere, a Roman emperor is rolling in his grave, probably knocking over a few mosaics of his own.
