I’m off on a little trip tomorrow. To the city built on seven hills, a city which was reputedly founded but a pair of wolf-suckling twins. A place which once controlled the vast majority of the, then, known world. A place so steeped in history that it resembles, at times, a huge open air museum. A place where Christians once became cat food and which contains another, theoretically independent, state ruled over by the next best thing to God on earth. A character who is protected by an odd group of absurdly dressed Swiss soldiers. Oh, and this is also the place where the likes of Mr P and Mr B strut their funky stuff, so to speak.
Yes, I’m off to Rome tomorrow, to help someone understand what the blazes he is supposed to do. Let’s call it a training session.
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.
Am I looking forward to this little jaunt? You bet I am. Nothing like a change of scenery to break the routine of everyday life, or so I humbly reckon.
I shall blog about the whole experience, once I have, er, experienced it.
I like my work, I really do.
