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A Diary Extract: 2 Hours in Roma.

Rome, Metropolitan City of Rome, Italy 14/11/2017
Hello, current readers. I wrote this back in August 2017 but never completed it. It seems too charming to let slip by the wayside and so I've decided to share it as it was. Hope you enjoy.

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August, 2017.

It’s been over a week since I left Rome. I’m yet to even publish the Naples piece but I thought I ought to crack on and get writing whilst I have the opportunity. 

I’m currently at my family’s home in Udine you see, staying in the house where my nanna, her sisters, and their families grew up. There are only two living there now and apparently, people of that generation see no need for wifi. This, though at first exhausted all of my data, I am now treating as a blessing. I haven’t wasted time scrolling endlessly through social media or checking WhatsApp (which I have discovered makes me very insecure and sad). Instead, I have read two books in less than 36 hours and been adored by the numerous cats that seem to congregate outside the house. I’ve even done a bit of yoga outside in the sun, which I think is very Eat Pray Love of me.

Looking back, I think Rome was my favourite. I was told by someone beforehand, whose opinion I held quite highly at the time, that Rome was overrated and was, actually, a bit shit. I no longer hold their opinion is such high regard, as I wholeheartedly, and truly believe that I am in madly in love with Roma. How could one possibly not be?

Arrival. The heat was overwhelming. From the moment we emerged from Termini, we were engulfed by the weight of the breezeless air; as though the sun had chosen to target us specifically with his searing rays. 

I had been forewarned of the heat but I still couldn't quite comprehend the intensity. How was it possible for it to be this hot? It was far hotter than Naples which I'd, incorrectly as it happens, assumed would be much hotter given it's proximity to the equator. Perhaps I ought to reassess my geographical comprehension.

Given the heat (have you gathered that it was hot?), we sat under the shelter of the bus stop, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with the unrelenting "ice, ice aqua" men who were forcibly trying to sell us refreshments. This was a decision I regretted when the number H bus did not stick to it's 'every thirteen minutes' timetable. It did not stick to it three times, in fact.

Thankfully it came, as I was beginning to worry than Shannan would commit a murder-suicide if I didn't get her to a Fanta Lemon and air-conditioned room within the next hour.

We boarded the bus seeking respite. If only we knew...

End.

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