When we left Vienna for our trip to Italy last week, it was definitely winter. We’d gotten a little snow earlier in the week, and then we were surprised with some more the morning of our departure. There was even more, fairly significant, snow forecast here in Vienna for our first few days in Italy. We were really cold the night we got on the train and headed for Rome. Our train was delayed by about 20 minutes, but they didn’t announce that until we were already arranged on the platform, in sub-freezing temperatures with snow and wind. We weren’t quite dressed warmly enough, because we didn’t want to over pack for Italy, so we stood, waiting for the train and shivering.
We woke up on the train to a northern Italian landscape covered in snow (it was so snowy we shared a moment of worry that we were in the wrong place). And then we arrived in Rome, and although it wasn’t as warm as we’d expected, it didn’t feel like winter. The plants were green, the rain was rain, not snow, and none of the puddles were icy in the mornings. I think I probably enjoy winter more than the average person, but even I was won over by our visit to spring.
And then, completely contrary to our expectations, Venice was warm (and even dry). It was so lovely. We were sometimes a little chilly in the shade, but a few moments in the sun warmed us right up. The boys ventured out a few times in fleeces instead of parkas, and I didn’t put my hat or gloves on once (not even on our evening gondola ride). Liam did get a little cold once when we stopped for gelato, but otherwise, Venice was truly a taste of spring.
And then we arrived home in Vienna to 38 degrees and a strong breeze. Brr. But, even here, spring snuck in while we were away. The days are suddenly and noticeably longer. There are flowers peeking out from window boxes and beneath bushes in the park. We still need to bundle up, but the thaw has definitely begun. It’s a good thing, because as much as I love winter, Italy spoiled me with spring, and I’m ready for it now.