The Last of the Grand Tourists

Yesterday in my exam on the Grand Tour in Italy I was asked as a final question how I could relate my own experience as an Erasmus student to that of such grand figures of literature as Byron and Wordsworth. In fact there are plenty of things in common
1. Residency in Italy for about a year or so
2. Expensive
3. Cultural encounters with 'the Other'
4. Learning the language
5. Studies of art, architecture and literature

In fact Erasmus students are in a way a continuation of this grand tradition. When you take a holiday somewhere for a week or two, you see the sights, you are amused by the idiosyncrasies of other people and then you return home, a little more tanned, a little more 'worldly'. You return to your cold house which looks strangely new in its familiarity and put the kettle on for 'the real cup of tea' which has been eluding you for the past 14 days, hiding down cobbled side streets unrecognisable in a funny hat.

Living in a place for months on end gives one a completely different feeling. Every day you feel a little more integrated into 'society', whether it is taking a caffe at your favourite place, or cycling down the same tree lined path into the city. You begin to be more than just a little offended when you are mistaken for a simple tourist, but in some ways you still are. In fact, after 6 months of residency in a place away from 'home' (wherever that may be) you begin to lose your concrete sense of identity. I haven't seen England since February and I have already forgotten the feeling of the place, what it looks like, what it means to walk down the high street and know exactly just what is going on. I don't feel Italian, but there are plenty of things I do now which I would never have considered as being part of my life in England. Things I will always relate to Italy. Yet when the rain comes, I am the only person on the terrace, reading in the dwindling light while my incredibly conservative and residentially minded neighbours retreat indoors. They probably think I am crazy, and I suppose I am. I wouldn't want to be any other way.

The hardest question for me to answer is 'so how's Turin - what have you been doing'. "Il dolce fa niente." is probably the best reply I can give.