We are fast approaching the end of March and the weather is becoming steadily more clement. I've stopped bothering to take a scarf and my goose down coat is feeling a little too warm for comfort – when the sun is bearing down on me, I cook. Must be a bit like being stuck in a microwave.
Stop reading, start speaking
Stop translating in your head and start speaking Italian for real with the only audio course that prompt you to speak.
The speed of the transitions between seasons here never ceases to amaze me. It's almost as though someone somewhere has decided that we've all had rather too much of winter and so it really ought to start heating up a bit. You could say spring arrives with a bang here.
I'm certainly not complaining though – at least whoever that weather controlling somebody is seems to be decisive, which is more than can be said for whoever is charged with the UK's seasonal change procedure.