Six Weeks

Six weeks in. Some early impressions.

Spring in Rome is spectacular — temperate, long days, and something particular about the light: warm and gold and soft in a way that makes everything glow.

Steve pointed this out when I arrived: Romans are cold-weather wimps. The moment the temperature dips below 20°C (70°F, for those still in the American bubble), the parkas come out.

Italian is coming more slowly than I'd like. My middle-aged brain still hasn't sorted out all the variations of "c" (accanto, accento, chiave, cioccolato – it’s a mine field of pronunciation). Structured classes are coming soon!

And everything really does taste better. It’s not just the novelty or the romance of the surroundings — our produce, fish, and chicken are just genuinely better. Really.

Did you catch that? I wrote our produce. Didn't plan it. Just came out that way.