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/

The joy of doing nothing.

Over these past few days we'e been truly blessed. The weather has been fantastic. Spring is heating up, the sun is shining and I've been spending as much time out of doors as possible. Sun dresses and shorts have come out of the wardrobe. Plans for the beach are being made. Sun cream has been bought.

The weather has completely put an end to my homesickness and reminded me that I love living in Rome. It's helped by the fact that it's raining in England.

What I've loved about the past few days is that when the weather's fine I just can't bear to sit indoors and so I've been getting up earlier- woken by the heat of the sun on my window- and have just been doing something, or a lot of lovely nothing.

Villa Torlonia

"Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering." 
-Winnie the Pooh 

While the sun and the heat are still novelties and completely delightful I'm really enjoying pointless walks, sitting for a minute as I go through the piazza and heading over the the park. The gelato tastes better and the Kindle is getting a lot of use. John Thornton and Margaret Hale will be out of my life in no time. Which is actually a shame, because I'm loving North and South.

It's alarming how much time I've actually whiled away in the sun over the past few days. Today, for example, I was somewhat surprised when I realised actually been at Villia Torlonia for three hours. Blanket out, Kindle out, zoning out. There's something so peaceful and calming about enjoying your surrounding entirely and letting yourself get lost. Yesterday I ended up having a cheeky nap when Anna and I were at the park and earlier I'd been devastated when I realised that it was time to get up and head over to uni, having been enjoying my time in the Parte Antica, after finishing work at the Cimitero Acattolico.

"You have to allow a certain amount of time in which you are doing nothing in order to have things occur to you, to let you mind think."
-Mortimer Adler

So far I'm having a great week. I've been busy, but I'm most busy doing nothing. It's lush!

p.s. New favourite song, as of today.

A real page turner.

When I was home my mum gave a book. A book she read over a year ago, but I've had to wait for, as naturally she leant it to all of her sisters and half of her one thousand friends before I got my hands on it. It was definitely worth the wait though and I gobbled the whole thing up in less than a week. God love transport for the time it gives to bookworms!

"Make it a rule never to give a child a book you would not read yourself."
-George Bernard Shaw

The book was Me and Mine, a portrait of an Irish family living in London. It was heart-warming, anecdotal and quite honestly it made me think so much of my own family. Not just because they were from Longford and reading the Longford Leader, which once reported my own parents marriage- completely inaccurately! This book is a real page turner and I quite literally couldn't bare to put it down. I'd thoroughly recommend it to anyone. It depicts family exactly as I think it should be, a hub of loving intrusion and jest, both in spite and because of each member's imperfections as well as their strengths. 

"The definition of a page-turner really aught to be that this page is so good, you can't bear to leave it behind, but then the next page is there and it might be just as amazing as this one."
-John Burnside

As you know, at Christmas I got a Kindle. This was a very practical decision, supported by two very simple reasons. 

1. Books are very expensive here, especially foreign ones.
2. I have my luggage allowance to think of, and lots of books would certainly weigh me down.

As much as I enjoy playing with my new toy and the delights of finding literary freebies, it was wonderful to have a real book in my hands again. A real page turner, complete with pages to turn!

Having devoured this treat so quickly I have now returned to my new found technological ways and you could say I'm even being conscientious by having started North and South, by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell. This is one of the set texts for 'The English Nineteenth Century Novel', a module I hope to take next year at Warwick. I'm really enjoying it. I can't help but wonder if people really were as eloquent as characters in these old novels though. Margaret Hale, the protagonist, speaks so poetically as she describes her old rural home to her new friends in the North that I wonder have we forgotten the power of poetry, simply become too lazy to fully describe all that we perceive, or rather have become sadly unaware of the beauty and the music in the world around us? 

I'm just a quarter of the way through now- thank you Kindle and your handy little percentage bar- and am really enjoying this read. I hope the rest of the books on this reading list treat me as kindly.

Also, yes... I have seen a BBC adaptation of this tale. And no, it doesn't hurt to imagine the dashing Richard Armitage as the leading man, John Thornton. Do you judge me, fellow Literature students? 

I'm going to stop now as I have a book to be getting back to...

p.s. If you like the sound of either of these books, here are the links to them on the Waterstones website.

• Me and Mine, Anna May Mangan,  http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/anna+may+mangan/me+and+mine/7441649/
• North and South, Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell,  http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/elizabeth+cleghorn+gaskell/north+and+south/8585681/

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!

The family we choose for ourselves

This weekend we celebrated Easter. The most important holiday in the Christian calendar. For me, as with all holidays, Easter means family. The whole family together. Yet I chose to stay here in Rome. To most people this would seem fitting simply for the religious significance. It makes perfect sense for a Catholic to spend Easter in the heart of the Roman Catholic world. This was not my logic. When I decided to stay here, I confess, I was thinking solely of the weather, how much fun I'm having and that I'm not due many more trips before going home for good. So I opted for Easter in Rome and visiting uni at the end of April instead. However, despite my fiscal logic and clear thinking about the big picture I'd be a massive liar if I said I wasn't homesick during Holy Week, at the thought of the upcoming family gathering (food, drink and general loving merriment)  which I was to miss out on.

All that being said I had a lovely weekend. With most people having succumbed to the call home for the holiday my flatmate, Rosa, and I were left to fend for ourselves and it just so happens that we had ourselves a lovely little weekend. Lucky for us that we were left with good friends and a positive attitude! We began with good intentions and bold resolutions. The two of us struck a bargain to sort the house out, she taking on the kitchen whilst I tackled the bathrooms (I admit, she had the harder job) as well as both of us doing huge amounts of laundry. What wonderful housewives we'll make one day!

Rosa vs. the Kitchen.

Next up was our long talked of trip to IKEA (here pronounced ee-kay-ah). I cannot begin to explain or justify why this was so exciting, but we were buzzing. We had McDonalds (where Rosa was suitably impressed by my ordering skills. They're the same words, but with whole new identities), tried out all the houses in the showroom, I finally got a new bedside lamp (having pulled the old one from its perch whilst sleeping... just before Christmas) and Rosa got a cuddly Broccoli, her new fidanzato, Brian Broccoli.

Easter itself included mass at my parish church here followed by breakfast. Coffee and Creme Eggs. An Easter classic. The moment of the day, however, was before breakfast when, upon opening the door on my return home from church, I got a whiff of the lamb already roasting for lunch. Lush!

A hearty Paschal breakfast.

We continued by watching numerous episode of 'Ally McBeal', officially re-named 'Single Female Lawyer' in our flat and then, finally tucking into our delicious lamb. It was a cracking feast, finished off perfectly (in my opinion) by drinkng wine out of actual wine glasses. Thank you IKEA! I then got a call on skype from my Dad... so I spoke to everyone! My nan, my aunts, my uncles, some of my cousins, the mother, the brother girlfriend. Gosh, it did remind me of how much I wanted to be there. Especially when I saw my cousin's little girl standing up all by herself. I didn't approve any mile stones occuring without me! It was lovely to talk to everyone though, and to know they haven't forgotten me and miss me too!

The feast.

That evening I was expecting the (very late) arrival of Will, my wonderful friend from uni, and so we happily relocated to The Yellow, a hostel near Termini (with a very good bar) to pass the time with ever more wine. When he finally got from the airport to the station we had an epic emotional reunion on the platform and a banterous evening at home.

Empty metro station... sit on the escalator- who's there to judge!?!

Easter Monday (Pasquetta) was my typical day of hosting, roaming Rome aimlessly, enjoying the sunshine and pointing out what things are. We had lots of fun. Being a uni friendship there was obviously wine with lunch, dinner then followed by a hilarious big night out. Being with Will did, in fact, give it an edge of the English night life and has got me rather excited for my trip to uni at the end of the month.

Will by the Colosseum

Me in the sunshine.

All in all, Easter was a fantastc weekend, even though it wasn't typical. I was glad to have such good friends with me to prove the saying 'Friends are the family we choose for ourselves'. I wasn't with my family, but I was at home and with people I love and at the end of the day, when all said and done, that's all you really need. So I'm a very lucky girl.

Hope you all had a happy Easter too!

p.s. Just to get the soundtrack of the long weekend- gosh, we now love Ally McBeal!

Double the Fun

Whoever said 'two's company but three's a crowd' has obviously never spent a weekend with my wonderful friends. I've just had a visit from two of my school friends, Tara and Joanne, and regardless of what that idiot may have thought it was truly a case of Double the Fun and non-stop laughter. One of the little things that made this weekend stand out from all the others visits I've had was the girls' attitude. They came with next to no idea about what the wanted to do in the touristy sense and very little intention of letting primp time and hangovers detract from our fun. With no pre-conceived notion about how the weekend should unfold we were completely free to just go with it... and get camera crazy.

The girls were very lucky to come when the sun was shining and so I opted to say 'sti cazzi' to roman convention and join them wearing shorts, highlighting the fact that we were tourists. We spent the day just wandering around and naturally stumbling upon sights such as the Imperial Forum, the Vittoriano, the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps and happily just found a sunny spot by each, where we could natter away and enjoy the sunshine.

The next day we decided to persevere with our 'the best plan is to never have a plan' plan and proceeded to stumble upon the Pantheon, Piazza Navona, the Colosseum and more. We had lunch in Campo dei Fiori and dinner in Trastevere, which was so cheap but unbelievably delicious and devised one liners that kept us giggling like school girls right up until bedtime.

Monday, their last day here (weep!) was the only day we had any sort of mission in mind, the Vatican Museums. But as we've already established plans ruin all good things and as soon as we saw the sheer volume of tourists gathering and heard that there was over an hour's wait we said 'stuff it' as they were happy with having already seen some of the Vatican. Instead we spent the morning hanging out in the garden of Castello d Sant'Angelo before going wandering again. We got of slice of pizza for lunch, which we enjoyed in Piazza del Popolo before we finally had to come back to the flat so that Tara and Joanne could pick up their stuff and get to the airport on time.

What was amazing about this weekend was that although we saw lots, we didn't actually really do anything. It was so much fun! There's a lot to be said for the company of old friends. Those that know where your coming from and are always there to help you think up what to do next. I haven't laughed so much in ages, even the slightest knowing look would set me off. These girls know too much! I almost hadn't realised how much I missed them! And I can't wait to get them back n my daily life either.

Boats for buses

This is a Venetian bus...

Gondole 

There's nothing more satisfying than that feeling of coming home. This weekend Anna and I realised how enchanted we've become with Rome, as it was with great reluctance that we headed over to Venice. On a 7am flight. Our unwillingness to miss out on Saturday night antics and drag ourselves out on a trip (which we' previously been excited about) is a real testament to how much I now love my life in Rome. Yet duty, or at least Warwick's Italian Department, called and so we headed out... at half three in the morning, to catch a night bus, a coach and a plane to Venice.

Disgruntled 8am faces

When we arrived, at 8am, running off merely two forty five minute naps, we were even less pleased with the state of affairs. However, a morning of aimless wandering in the labyrinth of Venice's streets and watery dead ends we soon calmed down and enjoyed the sunshine by the canals. At first we were amazed by how extremely peaceful the city was, and then we realised that it was in, in fact, Sunday morning and so everyone was taking it easy. Just like Lionel Richie.

After a couple of hours spent like this we thought it was, perhaps, about time to find out where we were staying and having received the address via text (of course we didn't think it was something important to note down before leaving the house!) we bought a map and headed off. Venice truly is a maze and every now and then the road stops dead at a tiny gate to the canals and you have to back track and start again. Therefore mission 'find the hotel' became something of a game... which eventually we won. The university had organised for us all to stay in an old convent and so we were greeted by the tiniest Italian nun who showed us to our room where we promptly passed out until dinner time.

By the time we awoke the rest of the Warwick group had arrived and so there was lots of excited chatter and catching up to be done, topped off the the incredible scream let out by my friend, Lauren, before she ran at me and gave me the biggest hug. We had a midnight curfew to respect and so we swiftly headed out to find dinner and drinks. Drinks here meaning a Spritz-Aperol, which seems to be enormously popular in Venice... and now with our entire group. For the rest of the trip all down time was marked by the query, 'Anyone fancy a Spritz?'

Spritz o'clock

Monday and Tuesday morning were spent with two of our faculty members from Warwick, feeding back on what we'd been up to, how our Module Reports had gone and planning for our return to Warwick. More about that in another blog, I think. It was great to hear what everyone's been up to, that we were not alone in our struggles whilst tackling Italian bureaucracies and  looking forward to which modules we'll be taking next year, because in English Universities, such information is freely available and registration is as easy as pie.

The weather was as beautiful as the city itself and we spent most of our free time breaking off into ever changing small groups (mixing it up so as to guarantee the chance to catch up with everyone) to wander the higgledy-piggledy madess of Venice's tiny streets, sit out in the sunshine by the water and get lots of gelato and numerous rounds of Spritz-Aperol. It was heavenly!

Sitting on the dock of the bay

Catching up over lunch

Catching the sun by the Rialto.

Unfortunately, despite our midnight curfew we all still ended up going to bed far too late every night whilst being expected to breakfast at eight. This compounded with our nocturnal travels left Anna and I equally grumpy on our journey home and we reverted to our happy habit of blissfully ignoring eachother whilst seeking solace within our Kindles. Luckily, the delirium of our over-tired state usually hit us both at about the same time and therefore every now and then the clouds of discontent would clear to make way for insane bursts of song.

All in all it was a good trip. I really enjoyed all the time I got to spend with my Warwick friends, and I think many more advenures will come as a result of this trip (lots of invitations flying about!) and I was some spellbound by the beauty, mystery and elegance of this aquatic city. Yet I cannot deny how happy I was when we finally made it home to Rome and my bed. Venice is fabulous and in the end I enjoyed the trip just as much as I'd orignally anticipated but now it's wonderful to be back in Rome and my fun life here. Because at the end of the day, Rome is where my heart is.