January and February have always felt like our quiet invitation to Italy. While much of the world hunkers down, we would usually be packing bags for a personal Italian adventure —wandering Milan’s elegant streets, lingering over lunch in Rome, freezing but, very much at home in Florence and likely taking day trips to other towns and cities. We woud always be on the move. Those winter trips were never about escaping the cold entirely but, about trading the damp, grey English winter for espresso bars, crisp air yet bright blue skies and the comforting rhythm of Italian life.
This year, though, is different. Instead of historical piazzas, velvety church bells and the clink of coffee cups, I find myself at home in the Cotswolds and wrapped in layers. The countryside here is still beautiful, I walk the familiar valley with a friend's dogs but, there is a heavier mood at present and I cannot help but notice how far away Italy feels.
Still, the longing comes with hope. Italy has a way of waiting patiently. With any luck, we will reunite later in the year and return —to enjoy that unmistakable feeling of being exactly where I feel I am meant to be, on a BA flight taking in the beauty of The Alps and landing safely into Milan or Bologna ready to take the Frecciarossa to begin our adventure.
BW, T.
Photo (c) 2025 Teddy McDonald
look closely in the far distance and you can spot the Matterhorn [centre] the tallest mountain in The Alps and to the left before the wing tip the distinctive pyramidal shape of the Matterhorn, my favourite mountain located in Zermatt, Switzerland, somewhere to visit next.
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