Six months ago, I was wading in wellies through a freezing, flooded single-track country lane in South Devon, trying to assess if it was too deep for my tiny Toyota IQ to pass through safely. It was 8.30am and we were late for school – navigating the pothole-ridden roads was a nightmare as usual. As my glasses steamed up, my boots filled with water and my six-year-old daughter screamed, “We’re going to be late, Mummy!” from her car seat, I could have sworn I heard Percy Shelley’s immortal words, “Go thou to Rome”, from the other side of the hedge amid the bellowing cows.

Temporarily back in Devon

At 39, for the first time in over a decade, after stints in Montreal, Mexico City and most recently Oslo, I was temporarily living back home in the UK, in Devon. At first it had been a welcome relief to regroup after so many years overseas. I was overcome with nostalgia for my bucolic childhood spent enjoying Devon’s coastline and fields and wanted my daughter to experience it, too. But last winter, after just over a year in Totnes, I knew I had reached my limit. The grey skies, damp playgrounds and deserted streets after 4pm were suddenly overwhelming – not to mention the endless rushing along country lanes I was out of practice navigating. (Photo: Taste the Image/Getty/iStockphoto)

Fully committing to Rome

I had met my French partner whilst we were both living in Oslo three years earlier, but neither of us wanted to endure another Norwegian winter. As we are both self-employed (he’s an entrepreneur and I am a writer) we could theoretically live anywhere and Rome was top of the list. I had once spent a summer living off Campo de Fiori in my twenties, and had longed to return. It had all the things we missed in Oslo: sunshine, delicious food and friendly, sociable people. My partner went ahead (as a French citizen he can still move freely in the EU, unlike me) and after struggling to find anywhere affordable to rent centrally, decided instead to buy an apartment, fully committing to Rome. I began the lengthy visa process to join him and needless to say, when my Italian elective visa finally arrived and my rental contract ended in Totnes, I was delighted to switch the flooded lanes for a school run that instead casually takes in the Colosseum, the Forum, the Pantheon, and a quick €1.50 espresso standing at the bar with other parents. (Photo: Antonio Masiello/Getty)

A tricky start to Italian school

We put my daughter in Italian school because we wanted her to learn Italian as quickly as possible and have Roman friends (rather than just expats). Whilst the initial few weeks were undoubtedly tricky, we started school slowly – just an hour a day and built up from there. The school was extremely flexible and supportive, and soon she was happily making new friends. Contrary to popular belief, Romans do still live in the centre of Rome, and whilst it’s true that Airbnb has unfortunately led to many locals having to leave the centre, most of the school community lives within walking distance. This means that, rather than hurtling around to some expensive after-school activity, kids at the schools in the centro storico neighbourhood tend to simply play in the nearest piazetta, inventing their own games whilst us parents sit in the sun.

Great weekends in rain or shine

Our weekends are usually spent on one of the many beaches reached easily by Italy’s excellent and cheap trains: 45 mins and €3 gets you safely to a big plate of delicious fried fresh fish (€12) and a cold beer (€4) overlooking the sea and you can watch the kids play safely for hours. We don’t have a car (my partner cycles everywhere and my daughter and I use the excellent public transport or walk) but there are plenty of car share schemes should we need one. If it’s raining, we go to a museum (many are free for Rome’s residents). I am not the only Brit to recently make the move to Rome, with many London-based British digital nomads and their families apparently eyeing the new relatively affordable property developments coupled with low flat-rate taxes and a higher overall quality of life.

An Airbnb-dominated historic centre

For those not wanting to buy, outside the Airbnb-dominated historic centre, there are rental options for well under €2,000 for three bedrooms. A friend is about to move into a three-bed apartment in Monteverde Nuovo, for example, paying €1,600 for 120 sq m with her two young kids. In London, she notes, with average rents for a small two-bedroom now hitting £2,243 (though easily topping £3,300 in parts of central London), this would be impossible. With the digital nomad visa only introduced last year, it is of course too early to know exactly how many Brits will qualify for it, and in turn whether the controversial “digital nomad gentrification” will also drive up rental prices in parts of the city currently still more or less affordable to actual Romans. With an ageing population and a drastically falling birth rate, Italy is perhaps hoping that some of these nomads choose to finally settle down here and invest rather than merely pass through. (Photo: Lionel Bonaventure/AFP)

Oslo the right place to raise children?

When I lived in Oslo, I was told that it was a wonderful place to raise a child as it was so safe, but I felt invisible there and missed very simple human things like eye contact and small talk with strangers. Our days here are brimming with these micro connections, which arguably has the single biggest impact on our quality of life. We see the same doormen, shop owners and waiters every day and my daughter is greeted like a long-lost friend. When she completed her first week at school, a waiter from a nearby restaurant gave her an ice cream and clapped. Grannies will stop and chat to her in Italian wherever we are. I have seen how her confidence has grown as a result of people’s kindness and how quickly she has felt a sense of belonging and community. (Photo: Morten Falch Sortland/Getty/Moment RF)

Easy to be spontaneous

Learning Italian is proving painfully slow, but my partner and I have both been surprised how easy it is to make new friends. In Oslo, I found people often stick to the same group of work or school friends they have always had and don’t really have the need or desire to make new friends – in Rome people are quick to invite and include newcomers and throw old and new friends together. It helps that socialising here thankfully doesn’t require weeks of planning in advance or formality – with the good weather and wealth of places to grab a cheap coffee or glass of wine, it’s easy to be spontaneous. (Photo: Alessandro Bianchi/Reuters/X90015)

Downsides just a small price to pay

We no longer worry about frantically cleaning the flat first and have embraced a more relaxed approach where carbonara and Lego merge on the table. It of course helps that parents are far less worried about strict routines, and if our kids are happily playing in the street we simply stay chatting and grab a slice of pizza on the way home. Yes, there are downsides: Rome is chaotic, sweltering in summer and the Italian visa system requires patience – I’ve yet to complete the full residency process that enables access to public services like healthcare (and must therefore have private coverage). Everyone here complains that the bureaucracy is famously tricky to navigate, but I believe it is a small price to pay for the generosity of the city and its people. (Photo: Riccardo De Luca/Anadolu Agency via Getty)