Rome is in the summer. She always embraces me with her full heat. The pine lined boulevard and eternal monuments, dry aqueducts, melting gelato, thieves reaching into pockets, loud street sellers, Romans and Tiber make the city living in a constant summer even in the spring. In the Circo Massimo area where I was staying this time, the street is clean and wide, the flag flies high, and the view towards the Palatine Hill and Piramide are naturally breathtaking.

Venice, on the other hand, welcomed me like a northern beauty. The chilly winds gushed through canals, and then came down the cold rain. Tourists still braved Piazza San Marco in hordes, but locals were nowhere to be found. Pasta al Nero (pasta with squid ink) at Da Bepi was extremely delicious. The island of Murano, Burano, Torcello and San Lazzaro provided welcoming escapes from the main Venice winter isle.