My course is over and I am dreaming in Italian

I had my last lesson last week and I had my exam this morning. My course is over. I can’t believe how quickly the past 10 weeks have flown past.

The first time I came to Italy was with Janet in March 1986, almost 25 years to the day and in a bizarre case of déjà vu, that year Ronald Reagan bombed Libya while we were in Italy, and a few weeks later Chernobyl exploded.

Other than the bizarre repeat of history 25 years later (Libya and Fukushima) two things stick in my mind about my first visit. The first is the very odd feeling that comes from looking like you belong without any of the shared life experience of actually being local. Like when you are asked for directions by Italians and can only shrug your shoulders.

The feeling is very difficult to describe. It actually has its advantages. You are less easily picked as a tourist and I have never been ripped off, even in Naples where I have been four times.

The second was the frustration of not being able to communicate beyond the basics of food, transport and accommodation – especially when Libya was exploding just to the South.

This is my fifth time in Italy. I am now very comfortable here and by virtue of 10 weeks of intensive Italian and having to use Italian everyday to communicate, my language skills are much better than they were.

As Libya and Japan unfolded in recent weeks I could watch Italian television and read Italian newspapers and understand the detail of what was happening in a way that I could not have done 25 years ago.

I am not fluent yet, the grammar still bothers me but I am understanding more and more as each day passes and I am now dreaming in Italian.