It feels strange to think that only five days ago I was still in Victoria, zipping my life up into a couple of bulging suitcases and saying so many goodbyes – to friends, to family, to all the cafés and restaurants I frequented, and to a whirlwind but ill-fated romance that managed to sweep me unexpectedly off my feet and then drop me painfully down again within the space of two intense weeks.
And now? Now I’m in Rome, getting settled in a new apartment, a new neighbourhood, a new way of life. It still seems so incredibly surreal – that after months of planning and daydreaming, this is actually my new reality, not just some passing temporary vacation that will be over just as quickly as it began. I live here now. La vita Romana – the Roman life – is my life. I can hardly string together more than a couple of broken sentences in Italian, but I have an Italian address, an Italian phone number, and (although this may have already been firmly in place before the move) a healthy respect for any and all foods based on carbohydrates or caffeine. I feel like I could really belong here. I feel happy here.