Weekly blog #137: It’s summer in Europe

Although summer only officially starts this week, it unofficially already started when considering the fantastic weather of the past week. In the Netherlands, from where I received tons of sunny photos last weekend of family and friends who were at the waterfront, who went out dancing at festivals, who were collecting hay from the fields, who went skating early in the morning and, of course, and who fired up the barbecue. It made me realise once again what a wonderful country the Netherlands is in summertime. 

A beautiful kind of hidden beach where mobile phones didn’t have reception anymore and where only young Spaniards hung around while enjoying their bocadillos con jamon they brought

But in Spain, too, summer had already begun. I was in Alicante until Wednesday morning, and for those of you who know me a little, know that I spent much of my time in the Spanish city on the beach. On Monday, I went to the lovely wide, accessible sandy beach of San Juan, and on Tuesday I found myself climbing over steep, rugged rocks to get to the water. The latter was a beautiful kind of hidden beach where mobile phones didn’t have reception anymore and where only young Spaniards hung around while enjoying their bocadillos con jamon they brought, sandwiches with Spanish ham. In Alicante, there was a constant, lovely sea breeze and with the open blue sky, I never considered it too hot. It was what I would call: perfect early summer days under the Spanish sun. 

These days, my thermometer starts beeping well before I put it under my tongue. That beeping means it has already done a successful measurement.

And in Italy? Well, these days, my thermometer – which I use every morning to measure my body temperature (if you wonder why: especially for us women it’s very good to monitor body temperature fluctuations) – starts beeping well before I put it under my tongue. That beeping means it has already done a successful measurement. Apparently just by measuring the air. It is worth noting however that my thermometer has a measuring range that only starts at 32 degrees… That says it all, right? And that’s the temperature indoors, in the (fairly) early morning.

Last weekend, I could only conclude one thing: the great exodus of Romans had already begun

A house without air conditioning in Rome during summer is like a house without heating in Holland during winter. From the second half of May onwards, it has been warmer than thirty degrees every single day, and now it’s more or less thirty-five degrees every day. It stays like this until the end of September. I don’t exaggerate when I say that’s rather challenging at times, especially on days when the busy Roman traffic creates a cappa, a thick cap of smog that blocks all fresh air. Last weekend, I could only conclude one thing: the great exodus of Romans had already begun. I was in the park, where it’s usually full of recreating Romans doing some sports or picknicks. Now, it was completely deserted.

It’s a phenomenon as old as the ancient Romans themselves

It’s a phenomenon as old as the ancient Romans themselves who, two thousand years ago, left for the green hills in search of refreshment. It still happens today. Everyone – or at least, everyone who has the possibility – spends the weekend in the countryside, by the sea or in the mountains in houses that have been owned by the family for generations. Many of these places were bought by the grandparents back in the sixties and seventies, when Italy enjoyed its greatest economic boom.

At the end of August, I stuck a post-it on my closet with the clear words: “August 2022: not in Rome”. I kept this promise to myself

Those readers who read my blogs already last year may remember a specific blog in which I describe how it’s just a little bit harder to love Rome in the summer. All year round I am hers, but not in July or August. Last year I did spend most of the summer here, mainly due to work commitments I had. At the end of August, I stuck a post-it on my closet with the clear words: “August 2022: not in Rome”. That was quite a bold statement in which you could clearly feel the frustration of my favourite coffee shop being closed for three weeks and the melting tarmac ruining my shoes. But here’s the thing: I kept this promise to myself. Next week I will be leaving Rome for a summer of adventures. First up will be Croatia with my five best friends. I really can’t wait! Because you guessed it: also in Croatia, summer has started.