In 42 days, I’ll board an Emirates flight bound for Italy. I’ve upgraded myself to Premium Economy, a move that I fear will never see me fly standard economy again and will undoubtedly lead to an unhealthy obsession with Business Class. Second time around, I feel like I’m a bit of a pro at this relocation thing. I’ve figured out what to pack, definitely not the clothes I haven’t touched in 12 months, and I’ve got a solid handle on what needs to be sorted before I leave and what can be tackled once I arrive.

Now, the apartment situation. Well, that’s still a work in progress. I don’t have one yet, but I’m holding my nerve. Unlike last time, this time around I’m stepping onto that plane with a job, a clearer sense of purpose, and, most importantly, the gift of hindsight. I know better now. This time, I will savour the small things, the little bits of Italian magic I missed in the haze of trying to “blend in” with locals (let’s be honest, I’ll always be the Aussie with the wrong accent). I’ll explore the nightlife with no self-consciousness, after all, I’m not just a tourist anymore, I’m a local-in-training! I’ll network my way to new friendships, speak Italian without cringing every time I conjugate a verb wrong, and embrace the wonderful chaos of the city.

But enough about what’s already ticking along, I’ve got big plans for this next chapter. In the immediate future, I’m going to find that elusive apartment, preferably one with a good bar nearby for the morning espresso, and I’m going to get stuck into what will become my new normal. Let’s face it, having a job and relocating makes this move feel so much more “grown-up.” There’s a small part of me that’s terrified of failure when it's gone wrong in the past, but this time it's different and I'm not the same person. But I know I’ll get the hang of life in a different country again. That’s what this next chapter is all about, right? Figuring things out.

Then there’s the more long-term stuff, the dreams I’ve been nurturing quietly in the background. I’m determined to lean in to finish writing my novel next year. It’s time to let the story continue to unfold, to return to the places my memory eludes me to allow me to take my writing deeper. To provide my characters, and truthfully, myself, with the kind of experiences that make life feel complete. I want to spend mornings in cafés, notebook open, writing about life in Italy from the perspective of someone who’s truly living, not just passing through. And if I can’t find an apartment right away, I’ll just treat myself to more time in those beautiful cafés and piazzas, watching the world go by. Let’s call it research.

And let's not forget about the food. After all, what's life in Italy without it? I've already made a list of the first few meals I want to enjoy at some dearly missed restaurants. Additionally, I'm setting a goal to learn at least two new recipes each month from the people I meet along the way. I'll dive deep into regional dishes I've never heard of, testing my culinary skills and sharing the results with you. Who knows, I might even create an Instagram-worthy dish so enticing that it makes you consider booking a flight to Florence just for a taste.

Looking ahead, I’m thinking long-term, too. I want to create a life here in Italy that feels grounded, stable, and most importantly, fulfilling. I want to continue growing professionally, building my connections in the online safety world, and finding ways to contribute to a cause that’s grown close to my heart. But beyond that, I want to feel truly at home, living not just in Italy, but with Italy - its culture, its people, its rhythms.

And then there’s the simple joy of the familiar. The second I land, I’m making a beeline for Esselunga or COOP. There’s something about the thrill of navigating an Italian supermarket that just can’t be matched. I can already picture myself roaming the aisles, grabbing too much dried pasta from new brands, plus all the stracciatella and focaccia I can carry. Sant'Ambrogio Market is on the list too, of course. The hustle and bustle, the vibrant colours, and the fresh pasta stall that makes my mouth water upon sight. It’s not just food; it’s an experience.

And then there's the coffee. Coffee Mantra, how I’ve missed you. The Italian Snoop Dogg, bringing his unique blend of coolness and caffeine to every cup. I’ll be back at Ditta Artigianale for that pain au chocolat that makes mornings feel right again. And let’s not forget Retrobottega for a sciachiatta, that irresistible Florentine bread that always seems to make my day better. I’ve missed those familiar faces, the ones who greeted me like an old friend. It’s these little moments, these familiar routines, that make Florence feel like home.

Here’s the outlook: in the next few weeks, I’ll be juggling apartment hunts online, work, and all the thrilling unknowns that come with a big move, because no matter how organised you think you are, there’s always something that’ll catch you off guard. When I finally land in Florence? It’s all boots on the ground, visiting every real estate agent in the areas I’ve decided are perfect for this new life - while, of course, squeezing in some time to soak in everything Florence has to offer. It’s all about balance, right? Mostly work, but a little bit of gelato never hurt anyone.

Looking further ahead, I’m envisioning a life where each day brings a new adventure, a fresh challenge, and plenty of opportunities to savour both the grand moments and the small ones that sneak up on you. Because, let’s be honest, it’s those little moments, the ones that make you feel alive and deeply connected to the world, that shape the life you’ve always dreamed of. And guess what? I’m all in. I’ll be writing stories about every little twist in this journey - the good, the bad, and, of course, the ugly. The kind of stories that’ll make you feel like you’re right there with me, wandering the cobblestone streets of Florence, cappuccino in hand, completely clueless about what’s next, but completely in love with every moment of it.

So, bring on Italy. Bring on the food, the coffee, the chaos, and everything in between. This time, I’m ready. And let’s face it - if I’m not, well, there’s always another espresso to get me through.

42 days and counting....