Going Native

Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's because I have been on lots of holidays recently, or even it could be that Enrico's work is finally going well, but I have to admit that - ooo, it hurts, it's so hard to do - I think I am going native. A little bit. Just a smidge.

Aieee. There, I've set down in black and white what I haven't admitted to anyone so now it's out there. I don't know when I began to realise it but it's slowly dawning on me that I am totally used to eating seasonal, regionally specialised ingredients - that don't have, 'locally sourced!', 'Seasonally produced!', 'Only organic products used, don't worry!', 'Feel free to be smug about your diet to your friends!' 'This will cost you twice as much as a normal product!' (I made up a couple of those) stickers all over them. I am truly blessed having a wonderful cook as a partner and I am conscious of this on a daily basis - 'cos he cooks most meals on a daily basis. Because of him, I've got used to eating high quality produce and recognising anything inferior. Italian people really do eat so well, yes, it's regional, seasonal and limited in scope to an English person used to eating a huge variety of international cuisines, however, the meals cooked in our house could easily win awards. The food is often very simple - we had spaghetti with olive oil and truffle today for example, simplicity itself - but E had bought the truffles from a friend who had a friend go over his land in Tuscany with a dog to get the fresh truffles, the olive oil we get by the jerry can from a mill down the road - simple, seasonal and delicious.

I can't believe it's possible, but I am even getting used to the driving. I don't like it any more than I did, but I am wise in the ways of the Italian driver now. Returning from a week in the UK recently, after a smooth, worry-free, civilised drive on the M25 to Stansted Airport, E picked us up at Ciampino and we headed home. I actually laughed. It was like a scene out of Grand Theft Auto (I imagine) or grown-up bumper cars at the very least. Don't try to tell me that UK drivers are bad either, until you have driven in Italy. The rule to driving in Italy is that there are no rules and once you get used to it, you are fit to drive here. On a journey recently I saw a beautiful example of this - an articulated lorry blocking a slip road because the lorry driver had clearly realised he'd taken the wrong direction, so instead of carrying on and coming off at the first opportunity, he was going to reverse back up the slip road and head on down the right way by hook or by crook. In his articulated lorry. I see so many cars parked, hazards flashing, on the chevrons between motorway junctions, I could well believe that in Italy, they are taught in their Highway Code that the chevrons are actually another symbol for Parking. Last minute swerving is commonplace too. I don't get it - is everyone just really indecisive ('Ooo, this way this way this way NOOOO, I'm going to go THIS WAY!!'), or just so busy talking on their mobile phones while driving that they are paying no attention to the road signs? I'll go for the latter - it's 5 points and a fine for talking on mobiles while driving, not that anyone cares less. Children apparently should be strapped in at the back too but again, it's normal to see kids stood chatting to parents in between the two fronts sears. Yikes.

I am falling deeply in love with the Italian countryside and the amazing variety it holds too. There are still so many areas to visit, but so far I am loving the opportunity to see more. My latest favourite place is the Dolomites, where we recently spent a week near Cortina. Wow. Probably one of my all-time favourite places at the moment, actually. Beautiful, clean, breathtaking scenery, an amazing wealth of things to do. I'm looking forward to seeing it in the winter and hopefully getting some skiing in too. Of course, there's Tuscany, and Puglia, and Umbria, Lazio too has some really special places. We are so lucky to be able to explore them and as soon as the kids are old enough, I am hoping they will appreciate us carting them around with us. I am really hoping that they don't turn into the kind of adults who say, 'well our Mum and Dad made us go on route marches up mountains at the age of three', which while technically is true, doesn't capture the beauty and splendour of the mountains they were being route-marched up...

So, there. It's out in the open and I can finally say it. I am happy in Italy. At the moment. I have to attach caveats because, by it's very nature, Italy is transient, volatile and prone to throwing curveballs at you from no-where. Come over and see for yourselves. We'd love to have you. Just, I still wouldn't recommend coming to this actual spot. It's full of dog-crap and graffiti, but for all that, it's finally starting to feel a bit more like home...