Emerging from our cocoons, some would argue prisons, we look out (at the risk of hackneyed phrasing) a changed world. Of course, we remember the outside, but a little help never hurts; what better balm for the gloom of the inside than the sunshine-drenched climes of Italian winters that feel, without fail, like summer? Specifically, the kind of summer feeling you couldn’t help but want after the credits rolled on Call Me By Your Name: absorbing the pastel colours and traversing quaint and quasi-whimsical warm-toned streets to lie under the overhanging branches of an umbrella pine.