Those summer nights

Hello old friends,

Let me apologise, I've been absolutely rubbish this month. Especially considering that last month I was basically blog obsessed. I doubt anyway cares that much, but if by any chance I have left you high and dry, I am sorry.

June has brought some good things. The weather has shifted to a true Mediterranean climate. Very hot and sunny. I wake up every morning eager to get up, for the sole reason that my bed has been baking in the sunlight since sunrise. During the day, as keen for a tan as any Essex girl may be, I fear burning on my way to get a coffee. It is glorious!

A view from my spot on the sand.

One way we've been making the most of this beautiful sunshine is by making the occasional day trip to Castel Gandolfo. The nearest beach to Rome (Ostia) is famously ugly... or at least that's what the real Romans tell us. Although I suppose they've never been to Southend pier and are simply used to the beauty of the Amalfi coast. Either way, I plan to go there eventually, but the lake is about an hour's train ride away from the city and is beautiful. We went mid-week, before the school's finished and so only had to share the shore with about six other people. Perfection. Bliss. You take my point.

We loved our afternoon. We sat of the sand, read books and sporadically went to swim in that gorgeously blue water. We wandered away for coffees and ice creams and came home tired by the sun and our lazy day, during which I read at least half of ‘The Battersea Park Road toEnlightenment’.

It is said that in summertime the days grow longer and the nights shorter. However, this has not been my experience. As summer has begun the Italian population seems to have woken up from a semi-hibernation and is completely rejuvenated. For the past 3 weeks I haven't returned from a Saturday night out earlier than 5am. Gosh.

Furthermore, most of our favourite events have moved from little clubs into large open air spaces. Fun! Most of them also have booths selling very cheap wine. Double win!

Now I remember why I wanted to move to Italy. Sunshine and wine.

I would never claim to be a football fanatic. Mostly because at my first attempt my brother and all male friends would jump in with controversial comments about how I've never cared in the slightest. That may be true. I'm not overly bothered. However, this month we've all been getting very much involved with the Euros and... well, drunk beer. In the group stages we've been showing our support for both England and Italia, but if things go well over these two evenings we're going have to make a very tough decision Blood and patriotism vs. we're in Italy and would have to take some stick. Only time will tell...

Despite all this revelry in the sun this month has also had it's challenges. My next work deadline is approaching and, as you may remember from here, all the work I have to submit to Warwick this year must be written in Italian. I've now completed my second module report and am researching an planning my final extended essay. There had to be some price for this beautiful year abroad! However, despite the freedom of the essay I'm hating it, partly because it's hard to concentrate on anything in this heat. And the fact that I'd rather be outside playing!

Well, I'm now closing in on the end of my Italian adventure, but I'll be sure to keep you posted on the rest of my fun. Also rather excitingly, after four years of friendship my friend Jess and I now live in the same city- even if it is only for a few.

I have a match to pay better attention to now. This is why we don't usually watch them at home...

A sartorial injection.

A curious element of the Year Abroad is one's wardrobe. In some ways the whole experience is merely one long, extended holiday and therefore one's possessions are controlled by airline regulations. There's a limit on how much you can bring and, similarly, you must consider how you're to get everything back within your weight limit before you can go home. This factor is a serious dampener on a girl's desire to shop.

As I get nearer to my departure date I have started to think about luggage and what I may even have to leave behind. I even used my April trip home as an opportunity to return all my coats, jumpers and... less essential footwear to the UK. However, as a girl who likes her clothes I must confess now that I am itching for a trip round the shops. Even with what still looks like a fairly full wardrobe, I'm tired of all my clothes. I'm sure I've found all the possible combinations for this particular set and worn them out. What I'm basically saying is

I have nothing to wear!

However, all hope is not lost. The joy of living with three other girls is that we've developed the very unoriginal concept of the communal wardrobe What's mine is yours, and all that jazz.

What's this got to do with anything? Well, despite having been looking forward to Saturday night all week. Because, well you know, it's Saturday night. Despite having had an excellent day in Tivoli and being in good spirits for the evening. Last night, I genuinely considered passing on the festivities because... the shame, I didn't have anything to wear!

Another reason to love my flatmates. Anna committed herself to supporting me through my temporary insanity and getting me to a dancefloor. She listened to my craziness and then disappeared. returning five minutes later with to of her own dresses that I was yet to play dress up with. Needless to say, I eventually perked up, manned up and got dressed.

It's alarming how one new garment can transform, if not one's wardrobe, then at least one's own perception of it. Anna's dress was just the sartorial injection that my Roman armadio needed and I felt brilliant. Also, it was a dress that I probably would never even try on in a shop. I just wouldn't have supposed it to be very 'me'. I would be missing out.

I'm so glad Anna thought to share and committed to supporting me through my wardrobe/brain malfunctions as last night was so much fun! Even though we pre-partied the same as every other Saturday, and even ended up at our usual club it really was one of the best Saturday nights I've had in Rome. It was so good that when the club kicked out at half past four, we all decided to find another bar, rather than call it a night and go home!

I'm still aware of my baggage limits, but I think I'm going to go shopping this week. I think a couple of new Spring/Summer staples could perk me right up and see me through the rest of Erasmus with vain, fashion conscious peace of mind.

What do you think? Is this post just self-indulgent and materialistic, or do your clothes help you think positively too?

Easy Tiger

This week my Facebook and Twitter feeds have been overflowing with reports of how glorious the weather currently is in England; the land of cold and dreary. Only as far as weather goes, of course. I suppose that's me getting my just desserts. Having spent most of the last fortnight gloating about the beautiful weather in Rome, how I'm out gallivanting in shorts and vest tops and how nice it is to just sit in the sun with a gelato. Well, I suppose Rome still has that advantage. I love my country, but the English don't know anything about ice cream!

Moving swiftly on... on rather returning to my point. Over the last few days England has been sun bathing, barbecuing and boasting about it. I spent yesterday looking out at the rain and, although today was dry, I have been forced back into full length jeans and long sleeve t-shirts. This is not what I had in mind when I moved to a Mediterranean country, especially not in late May.

However, as a natural optimist I think it always better to focus on the positives. So having now had my mini moan about the past few days allow me to tell you about the weekend and the good things that came my way.

This weekend I went to Sicily for the Evento Nazionale. A weekend of fun, where Erasmus students studying all over Italy come together in one holiday resort to make mischief. Maybe I'll come back to the mischief in another post. For now, I'd like to simply take a moment to remember the warmth and the sun. I'd like to talk to you about tanning.

I'm basically from Essex. Give me this one break!

I'm not going to say to much about my time in Sicily as, I'm almost embarrassed to admit, I didn't really do anything there. I didn't see any sights or do anything remotely cultural. I spent the morning my the pool with my book and the afternoon dancing by the pool with my mates. Sorry. All this pool time did lead to some good results, mind you. The tan. I'm not completely bronzed- bitter disappointment, but there's still time- however, I have been reminded of the one great affliction of sunkissed skin. Tan lines.

Some of you may have been somewhat confused by the title of this post, but now here it is. Why is it that a bikini, a vest top, a pair of shorts, whatever you wear, will eventually leave you striped like a colour-confused tiger! *Grumble*

Oh well, I'm sure they'll fade/fill out. There's still time to work on my 'I live in Italy' tan!

That's all I have to say. It was a fun weekend, but as I told you, I didn't really do anything. Which was lush.

Party on Erasmus!

A place to rest.

Sitting in the parte antica, back in January.

Some of my friends- well all of them actually- were somewhat alarmed and confused when I told them that I've been volunteering at a cemetery. This post will attempt to convey the beauty of the cimitero accatolico per gli stranieri a Roma, to explain what I've been doing there and to remove any idea that this is a strangely morbid way to spend your days in the Eternal City.

Keats' grave.

I first came across the cemetery back in October, when my parents first came to visit. We were all enchanted by our find. As a Literature student it appealed to me as the final resting place of Romantic poets John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley. I then started thinking about the fact that it's a place for foreigners For those away from home. It's said that 'all roads lead to Rome', and I'm was curious about some of the paths and journeys that ended here.

I spotted a photo of a little boy's grave and was fortunate enough to meet the director of the cemetery and she was kind enough to show me where I'd find it. We got to talking and, long story short, I soon began volunteering in the Visitors' Centre.

Shelley's grave.

Yes. So for the record, I've been working in the Visitors' Centre. I haven't become a sexton and taken to digging graves, as many people have asked!

It's an interesting place and I've met all kinds of people. From the visitors themselves who come from all over the world. People looking for the graves of famous writers, artists and politicians. People looking for deceased friends and relatives. The volunteers themselves are quite fascinating. Most of us are foreigners here, having found their way to Rome from England, America, Australia, New Zealand, Greece, and so the list goes on. Many of them have lived all over the world, done something truly interesting and all of them our happy to share their experiences and the wisdom they've learnt.

One of the things I've been doing in the VC has been to help another volunteer with his labours to research and compile information about the lives of everyone buried in this unique place. Flipping through those folders I've been amazed at the adventurous lives so many of these people lived, saddened by some tragic circumstances and impressed by some of these peoples' accomplishments.

The Angel of Grief

The cemetery itself is beautiful and has such a perfect atmosphere of serenity.It's full of little paths, hidden gems- both in beautiful sculptures on graves and equally beautiful words- and also a great number of cats.

The Cats of Rome are famous and there's quite a big population living it large in the cemetery. In fact there's another group of volunteers working in the adjacent cattery. They feed and care for the dozens you see strolling around the grounds.

This is Theo.
 He mostly just sits here, in the window of the VC.

I'm realise I'm probably doing a rubbish job of explaining what a lovely place this is, but it really is beautiful. Now that the weather's nice, I often just stay and read on the grass. It's just... peaceful. And at the end of the day, that's what a cemetery should be. Not creepy, or dark, or eery. When we lost a loved one we say, 'may they rest in peace', and I think that here people really do. People from all over the world, of all creeds, lying side by side in peace. With nothing in common but where they came to rest.

Having just said all that about strangers, you also find friends.
John Keats & Joseph Severn's graves, side by side.

So yeah, it's a lovely place and if you're ever in Rome you should definitely check it out. I've brought several of my visitors here and they've all really liked it. 

My Aunty exploring.

                                     

Feel free to leave a comment and ask my anything if you still think I'm mad. I wouldn't be offended, or surprised. Promise.

Find out more here: http://www.protestantcemetery.it/

Dancing in the street.

"Callin' out around the world, are you ready for a brand new beat?
Summer's here and the time is right for dancin' in the street."
-Martha & the Vandella's.


May Day. A cheeky bank holiday to celebrate in the spring time. We all know it's steeped in tradition; such as white dresses, dancing around a May pole, etc etc and yet all it really means to most Brits today is a long weekend and a week without that Monday feeling.


In Italy, Primo Maggio (1st May) is still a holiday -yay!- but apparently is a much bigger deal. Also known as Festa dei lavoratori (Workers' Day) it its actually celebrated on 1st May, and not the nearest Monday. This means that on Tuesday, next to nobody was at work and there was a great deal of fun to be had.


Here in Rome the occasion is marked by a huge concert in front of San Giovanni. It was so surreal to see a massive stage rigged in front of one of the city's most imposing basilicas. The streets were packed from early afternoon through to midnight and the atmosphere was really relaxed and lots of fun.

I spent the afternoon on the rooftop terrace of a friend, living very nearby, where we had a barbeque. After a showering of rain earlier in the day we feared this plan may yet go awry but in the end we were very fortunate and enjoyed a wonderful afternoon.

After watching the sun set, which was even more stunning with that view, we headed back down to the piazza to enjoy the concert and the atmosphere. Most memorable May Day by far. Grazie Roma!

That's all for now- so much shorter than my last post!

p.s. We dip-dyed Rosa's hair. We're proud of the results!
p.p.s. Anna has a really annoying habit of looking cool in photos!

Back to Reality... briefly.

Last week I went on holiday, to the glamorous destination of Home. It was a really lovely trip, however brief. This was a whirlwind tour, calling in three counties in just six days. It was a wonderful though, due to both the pleasure of spending time with my family and friends; and the peace of mind I got from sorting out some administration and logistical elements regarding my upcoming return to reality.

The act of going home is simple as are the feelings are warmth and ease that it gives. It’s an age old and pure idea which is rooted in the very centre of who we all are. We can always take a step back, return to the place we started from and the people who love and know us best and figure out how best to move forward. The moving forward part is the challenge and even though I wasn’t at home in Essex for most of my trip I was so grateful to my patient and loving parents for putting up with my incessant phonecalls about housing and module selections. Mostly that just told me that I was making sense and making good choices, but sometimes all you need is someone who knows you well to say ‘yes, that sounds good. It’s a good choice for you’.

As a side note, other amazing things about home which brought a smile to my face with their sheer simplicity included getting off the plane to non-humid, crisp, albeit a bit chilly air (it’s different in other places!); rain that just drizzles nicely rather than simulating monsoon season; red meat in crazy served with any kind of potato; using my iPhone and having a very hectic ‘recent’ list; and Cadbury’s chocolate.

I began my mini-tour of the UK with a much needed trip to Warwick Uni, to see so many of the beautiful people I’ve been missing, meet the new RAG exec (which I am so proud to be a member of), hand in some boring paperworky things and check out and sign  for my house for next year. Busy, busy, busy!

I stayed with my friend Charlie, who is currently a very busy bee with all things Physics related and more, and so I think/hope he didn’t think me horribly rude for being here, there and everywhere whilst abusing his hospitality. Here’s what I managed to squash into my 3 and half uni days, he’ll probably be interested to know where I kept disappearing to, in fact...

Monday was an early start and the train to Leamington Spa, where the lovely Tara (as mentioned here and here) met me, having jumped on a train from Birmingham.  We had a pub lunch and did some shopping, kitting me out with a new bikini for what I hope will be a very sunny summer. I then went onto campus to meet up with Charlie for some ‘yay, one exam down’ drinks... which of course resulted in a plan to go out. Notorious Mondays are always a laugh and I had a brilliant time, both catching up with some of my friends at re-drinks and bumping into so many mates at the club. I did enjoy every double take, dropped jaw and ‘You’re back?!’, always followed by a big hug.

Despite all this nocturnal fun, Tuesday was another early start and a very productive day! I began with addressing my housing situation for next year, which has been a many month long saga- things are harder when your not in the country! I'm really excited about the group I'm living with though and our awesome location. Having finally viewed the flat I signed the contracts, only 6 weeks later than the rest of the gang and then headed off for a catch up with my friend, Lucy. This was a great catch up and I got to grill her on some second year modules, which she's been taking this year in order to get her and investigate some module based rumours that I'd been hearing. More about that later.

Tuesday evening began with a RAG meeting. I was so chuffed when I was voted RAG week co-ordinator for next academic year, and have been feeling guilty about my absence and consequent lack of involvement since being elected, and so this was a brilliant opportunity to get to know the new exec and talk about what's going on and to share what Beavis, the President, and I had been brainstorming about RAG Week! I'm really excited to get back to these lovely people and do some good work in the autumn. Will also be digging into organisation very soon.

Unlike here in Italy, back home we have to apply and request modules nice and early and so these decisions have been on my mind for weeks now. You may remember how the Venice visit of March served as an information point about modules offered by the Italian department and so I sorted out three out of four modules for next year then and there. However, my English option has given me much food for thought over the past few weeks and whilst having a fairly good idea of what I wanted to do this uni visit was the perfect opportunity to both catch up and grill some of my fellow English Lit students. Between that resolve, those chats and the aforementioned 'I think I'm doing the right thing Mum? Dad? Yes?' phonecalls I fnalised my decision and submitted my form (early, I may add). Sorry David, Lucy, Ella and Sam! And a huge Thank You for all of your insights! I felt both relieved and pleased to have the decision made and out of my hands. First choice: 'The English Nineteenth Century Novel', with 'Literature of the Second World War' and 'Victorian and Romantic Poetry' as back ups. I think I'll be happy with whichever I get, and there's always final year if I find myself longing to do one of the others.

With the lovely Will You remember him from here

Wednesday was another mad day with key features including seeing Sarah, my friend and future housemate, to catch up and discuss the house a little bit. A tiny bit, in fact. Other things seemed so much more important at the time. During this epic teatime I got a text from Charlie and duly agreed to a night out at the SU (Student Union). This was a very easy concession to make as Wednesday in sports' night, the Union is packed and the music is old, cheesy and very easy to have a silly dance and sing-a-long to. So much fun!

Thursday morning called for the much anticipated coffee date with the wonderful Mr Sam Clarke, who I was very disappointed to miss out on seeing over Christmas We didn't have much time as he was between a lecture and seminar but we caught up nicely on what we'd both been doing, followed up with questions about letters and we've started plotting some fun for when I'm back in the UK 'for real'. After this and another impromptu coffee with my friend, Felicity, I headed off to Banbury to see Fiona. You may remember her from my birthday.

With my Bestie

Fiona is one of my very best friends and one of our greatest grievances is that it's this year, this year in which I am in Rome that she is on a work placement in Banbury, only twenty minutes away from my university. Shocking! However, I was very pleased to get to visit her, meet her colleagues and friends and go for steak, because that is what she and I like to do. We then went out for a big night and we had a lot of fun in various establishments with some cheeky offers and cracking tunes- yes, she has made me a fan of Call Me Maybe- but we ended up leaving earlyish as we had so much more to catch up on and so little time together!

Friday was back home to Essex and dinner with my family. I was so sorry to end up having so little time truly at home but we went for a cracking dinner and in true family fashion there was no one single of conversation, but always at least three different ones running simultaneously- which is impressive for a table of five. Later, two of my best friends from school came to join us as well as some of my brother's mates and all told it was a good night.

Unfortunately, Saturday brought a fairly early flight back to Rome and I was greeted by a warm sunshine. You know that excellent moment when you're going on holiday and you get off the lane to find the air so warm and dry that you know you're abroad? It was that! That summer feeling. I was glad to be back, as I'm keenly aware that my time here is running out. I really want to make the most of all the time I have left, but... I'll tell you a secret, after such a short trip home I've been a tad homesick since I got back. I didn't really get enough time with anyone and can't wait to be reunited with them all soon.

But for now, Rome, sun and fun! After all, it won't be long until I'm truly Romesick!

Without moving anything but your heart.

"To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart"
-Phyllis Theroux

 There is no greater pleasure, in my humble opinion, than coming home to find a letter waiting for you on the mat; addressed by hand, in the familiar script of a friend. This is proof that whilst you may be divided by geography, you’re remembered and cherished.

Adorable postcard from Tara!

Those of you that know me well will be well aware that I’ve been a huge advocate of snail mail for a very long time and know few joys greater than the postman’s fruitful call. Having grown up n a large Irish family my cousins are spread al over the world; Ireland, America and even Australia, yet these boundaries never keep our family behind with the news. I mention this because one of my closest and longest friendships in that which a share with my cousin, Laura, who I’ve only ever seen in the flesh about four times, and yet by our letters we’re truly as close as any cousins could be. Having become pen pals aged about ten and eleven respectively we’ve shared, advised and supported each other through school, girl wars, boy drama and more.

Another of Tara's offerings.

If anything my generation has been completely spoilt, we live in a world where even if you move to opposite ends of the country for university you can still, if you choose to,you can still chat to your best friends for hours every day, or get their advice on outfits, be it a shopping or night out wardrobe decision. But is that what really counts? When you really think about it, it's still virgin territory. Pick up a novel and you're reminded that even as recently as sixty years ago postal correspondence was the predominant, if not the only, means of communication. Yes, it's not as convenient. Yes, it takes longer. But it's also more thoughtful, shows someone's taken the time to put pen to paper and even gone out to buy a stamp. It shows that whatever they've written, even if it's silly or 'just because', it was worth waiting for. Furthermore, it's tangible proof that someone's thinking of you, missing you and wanting to talk to you.

"Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus absent friends speak."
-John Donne

Mumma wishng me luck in
my new home.

As I mentioned above, I've been enamoured with the concept of snail mail and letter writing since I was quite little. So what a treat it as to find new fans of the letter as I moved away to university last year. Living in halls, we all loved finding a little coloured envelope in the box and even wrote to each other a bit over the holidays! Who were these pretty envelopes coming from? Well, besides from thoughtful mothers with a touch of empty nest syndrome, lots of school chums discovered the magic of mail and started recording the full versions of their university tales in letters, and sending occasional bursts of loveliness in the form of postcards, such as some of the ones pictured here, courtesy of my friend Tara (as mentioned here).

Cadbury Treats for Christmas.

Colourful Easter wishes

Since moving to Rome in September my postal appreciation has expanded to an even greater enormity than  could have ever imagined. To tell the truth, I'm like a little kid on Christmas morning with every arrival. From my mum's sporadic offerings of support and love (pictured) and the simple joy of my birthday cards finding me here. Being away over holiday periods obviously was hard at times. I was so happy to go home for Christmas, but I found the build up difficult as (a) it wasn't cold enough, (b) there weren't enough festive lights and (c) I didn't have my advent calendar. It meant so much to me to receive a long letter from my best friend, Fiona, in the first week of December, Cadbury's chocolate calendar included. As I've mentioned before I didn't go home for Easter, but was saddened by missng my family revelries. It therefore meant a lot when my parents sent me a card full of  Easter wishes signed 'All Love' hoping I'd 'do whatever the Romans do (WITHIN REASON)'. Sending a card is such a simple  thing, but it always means so much. With a positive correlation between meaning and distance travelled.

"Many people walk in and out of your life
but only true friends
leave footprints on your heart."

 Naturally, I've been thrilled to receive letters from new correspondents, and wonderful friends. Sam Clarke, fantastic fellow Warwick student, has had me in stitches with his commentary on my existence and Tara has kept the adorable postcards (no idea where she finds them!) coming, enclosed in letters. Fiona and Laura are as loyal as ever and I know I can always rely on word from them. Letters to Laura are like my diary, accept my diary writes back, gives me advice and even tells me when I'm being an idiot. She also praises me when I've shown maturity, self-restraint or compassion.

Speaking of postcards, shortly after moving overseas I found out about an excellent scheme: Student to Student. This is the perfect solution for student snail mail. It's free, so why not try it out?! Grab a postcard, scribble some love out for your fellow student of a friend and just put STS where the stamp would go. I've been doing this all year to let people back home know that I miss them. Give it a go, you've nothing to lose!

Dad's offerings from Vienna. 

"What a wonderful thing is the mail, capable of conveying across continents a warm human hand clasp"

-Author Unknown

Well, I could go on for hours but I'm sure you're all bored by now. If you've ever done a Year Abroad or lived overseas comment your opinions on the power of post! Either way, never underestimate the power of post.

Collection of letters since moving to Rome!

Taking The Plunge.

Yesterday I was talking to a good friend from home. And when I was 'talking' I evidently mean tapping words to electronically, as I live in Rome whilst she's still in England. I was thrilled when she popped up on screen because (a) I love my friends and like to keep up to date with all the news and (b) because she opened the dialogue with a nice, big and bold question:

Do you want to work abroad?

Quite simply, yes. Yes, I flipping well do! She was pleased with my response and seemed surprised that I'd already looked into a couple of ideas similar to her's, such as spending a summer working as a holiday rep somewhere in Europe, which is massively popular and you have to apply for nice and early (apparently). I've actually been considering this, and much longer contracts as well as destinations much farther afield, since I first arrived in Rome. That is to say I've been seriously wondering about what opportunities are available to a British  graduate in this vast world and how difficult they may or may not be to stumble upon.  I'll be honest, I've pondered it a lot, I haven't gotten round to much actual research yet and most of the people I know who've lived all over the world, when asked say that things just happened. Opportunity knocked.

What really strikes me as interesting though is how many people want to learn a new language, live in a different country (whether temporarily or permanently) and basically get a bigger taste of life. Before moving to Rome in September I'd talk about my degree  in the way that you naturally do when making polite small talk, 'I'm a student... I'm a Warwick... studying English and Italian Literature'. However, I always noticed how interested many people were when I spoke about the language component and the compulsory Year Abroad. It seemed as though almost everyone had wanted to do something similar at one time or another. When I asked what had prevented them most people answered quite honestly: fear of the gamble and of challenges unforeseen and the question of timing, that is to say 'the timing was never right'.

Timing is something I've considered a lot recently. When is the best time to take a risk, to plan a long and expensive trip, to get married, to make an investment, to have a baby or flip your whole world upside down?  My findings are as follows.... never. There's a never a good time. There's always a reason to say no, or chicken out. This is my new mantra, my motivation to say 'yes' to more. The time will never be 'right', but it may well be pretty good and as for the fear, I've already moved abroad. Yes, in a controlled setting, with lots of support and for a fairly set amount of time... but I've done it. I took the plunge, booked my tickets, read foreign papers and found a flat. I've explored this beautiful city of mine, met some fantastic people from all over (need to blog about some of them soon) and yes, I got robbed. But life's made up of both the good and the bad. My point is, I've done it once and it's made me braver. I think I could do it again. I could probably handle sorting it out for myself. I'd like to see what and where else the world has to offer

...once I finish my degree, of course. 

You have to start somewhere

After months of consideration and envy at how some of my friends blog away, confident that someone will care, genuinely enthralling me with all their adventures and musings I've finally decided (on a whim) to enter the big bad world of the internet and find an opinion or a story worth sharing... and maybe one day I'll have one! So here's hoping that some friend, family member, or obscure acquaintance might just happen to be vaguely interested and potentially amused.

All this has stemmed from a new desire to be bold. The new year marked a new beginning and I seized it by booking a very exciting girls holiday to IBIZA, where hopefully many a good story will unfold. However, that's not until September, so I now I need something  to do in the meantime. I've now been back in Rome for a week and have re-resolved to make life happen... having admittedly slipped into something of a Roma Coma. Thank God for it too, as I realise that half of my time here is almost gone and I've barely done a thing.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION (Part II): Stop chickening out!!

Here it's so easy to just sit up all night and lay in all day.... stream a few episodes of something hilarious, pop out for a cappuccino and that's a day gone. But there's so much more to it all! Everyone I know who's done it looks back on it their ERASMUS year as the highlight of university, maybe even life. I can see why, when you completely get into it it's brilliant- you meet people from all over Europe, party loads and have heaps of opportunities to travel around. So why have I been so half-arsed about it so far?!

On top of all that- this is Rome! It's beautiful, historic and full of a so many interesting people, from all over the world. Yes... I will be better. And this will help me be motivated. You can't write a blog without adventures to report...