ghost town

For the past few days, I've been holed up in my flat, eating home-made soup, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer non-stop and coughing and spluttering into my hot water, honey and lemon concoction. Living the dream...

Since arriving officially in October, I've been intent on making the most of my precious time here in Italy, craving to get started on real lessons and experience La Dolce Vita for myself. My wanderlust couldn't be abated and my fascination for the beauty of each new place I went to always left a smile on my face. As the weeks passed and my dreams of having a busy schedule at the Conservatorio and being a part of a group of friends who were as passionate about enjoying every bit of their time here as I was began to came true, the free days filled with nothingness that I used to complain about became fewer and fewer. My work ethic at the Conservatorio was forever increasing with each new and incredibly talented singer I met.

And then, after spending a Thursday afternoon sat in awe and delight in a huge classroom, watching my singing teacher lead the final rehearsal of the one-act Opera Il Signor Bruschino by Rossini, performed by eight truly spectacular young singers from the Conservatorio, I walked home happy, but feeling much worse for wear. My body had finally caught up with me and was not at all enjoying not getting any free time any more... So it gave out on me - left me exhausted and tired and shakey and fluey. And bed-bound.

I've spent this long, cabin-fevery weekend half wishing I could be with my family and not in Italy, and half just wanting to leave the house. I was truly glad that my friend Meg came to visit (and helped me eat the soup I made). So when I woke up this morning managing to keep the cough at bay, I walked with her and her friends to the bus stop and waved them off on their way to watch the Rugby.

I don't know if it was because I'd been watching and listening to things non-stop all weekend long but I suddenly noticed how quiet it was. Even on the main road. Then I began to walk towards the river and try and see as far as I could into the distance, enjoying the emptiness of the paths, the roads and even the skies. The trees seemed to all be surrounded by mist showing off their recently-bare branches in the stillness of the air.

My cabin fever had subsided and I walked around my empty town enjoying feeling like the only one there.

It was like Winter had finally arrived here. It had seemingly sneaked up on the town overnight and no one had noticed the change.