Admittedly, it is not as much a new place to live as it is a new way to get lost.

I am living this time with a beautiful Italian woman in her thirties. I haven't had much time to get to know her because she spent my first few days on a ski vacation in Switzerland. And, I spend the next couple of days in Assisi.

This much I know about her -- her apartment is fabulous. Spacious, full of light, over a happening, but not noisy little strada. Her apartment is in un palazzo vecchio -- an old building -- but newly renovated. I suspect her family owns the building. The neighborhood is called Monti. It is populated predominantly by Italians -- rarely do I see tourists here. Oh -- and what look to me to be Albanians. There are many restaurants here -- mostly cucina italiana. But, there is one place called Il Guru. Another called Maharajah. Cucino Indiano. Also -- there's a restaurant called Ali Baba -- obviously Arabian food.

On my first day here, I saw a group of school children gathered around something of great interest to them. When they cleared out -- I saw the attraction. It was a very old man anziano sitting on a bicycle. He had affixed his bike into a stationary position and was pedalling like mad. In the basket in front of him, a rotary flint. He was a mobile knife-sharpener. Alas, I did not have my camera.

My first lunch in Rome was typical. And memorable. When my friend and I entered the restaurant, the owner handed us an application. I suspect it's a way for him to dodge Roman taxes. But, I am happy to say, I am now the proud owner of a membership to the restaurant.

Without going into the minutia of the fabulous meal we consumed -- suffice it to hear about the dessert: (dolce, signore?) -- a slice of fresh ricotta topped with Nutella and Grand Marnier. The meal was exquisite.

Simplice, ma squisito.