I’ve never really liked New Year’s Eve. It’s too glitzy, too close on the heels of Christmas to have any real anticipation built up around it, and too full of pressure to round up friends, make plans and stay out late.
Do you know what I always really want to be doing on New Years Eve at midnight? I want to be at home, in my pajamas, holding a mug of tea as I lean out the window to watch a few distant fireworks (if I lean far enough out the window, almost to the point where toppling down onto the...
Rome has been truly luminous these days, full of the kind of vibrant colours and particularly soft light that seem to have been designed specifically to distract from the fact that winter is lurking just around the corner. The trees here cling onto their leaves long after the Christmas decorations have gone up around the city, and the result is both seasonally confusing and, at the same time, oddly comforting. And right now, I’ll take comforting.
November has been somewhat strange, with a whirlwind work trip to the United States (involving six flights and two layovers exceeding five hours each) at...
Last week I picked up my renewed permesso di soggiorno, the little rectangle of plastic that is quite possibly one of the most valuable things in my possession given that it allows me to legally stay in Italy. I sat in a sparse, dingy police station waiting room where announcements from 1998 were thumbtacked to peeling blue walls and a crooked, gilded crucifix hung above the door, and then I sat in front of an unsmiling officer in a cramped office while she dug my new permesso out of a shoebox full of envelopes, sliced my old one into a...
Food | Travel
We had come to Ovindoli to escape.
It was the beginning of August, and as is tradition, Rome was beginning to empty itself steadily, disgorging its residents in the annual exodus towards other, more appealing holiday destinations while sweaty tourists flowed in to take their place. A heatwave named Lucifer (Italians like to name their heatwaves) was also set to descend on the country, pushing temperatures up beyond the 40ºC mark and well beyond the possibility of tolerance.
We headed for the mountains – not the taller, more famous peaks up North with the spectacular skiing in the winter and lush green...
Food | Travel
I had never heard of San Nicola Arcella when I agreed to spend nine days there. Neither, apparently, had anyone else.
In the weeks leading up to the trip, I saw a lot of blank faces whenever I mentioned where I would be travelling. Friends, the barista preparing my morning cappuccino, even a guy who grew up in the same region – nobody seemed to know about this place. I quickly came to the conclusion that it would turn out to be either one of Italy’s best-kept secrets… or one of its secret shames.
San Nicola Arcella is in Calabria, which at...
This is what you probably don’t associate with a relaxing day at the beach: Forty-five minutes in the car, windows down, hot air streaming in. Traffic; a long, slow snarl that snakes towards the coast, tangling up hopelessly at every on-ramp and poorly-placed stoplight. And a painful hunt for an acceptable parking space; a space where you might have a chance of actually extracting the car at the end of the day.
It feels like a mass-exodus from Rome, and in a way, it is. It’s the weekend; the city is relocating to the sea.
The Roman coastline, or the litorale romano as...