Jonathan Self: ‘In Ireland, summer smells sweet, effervescent and damp. In Tuscany, one almost has to push one’s way through it’

Jonathan Self’s recent move to Italy has brought a fresh challenge. Or rather, a hot and heavy one.

‘The plains that reel to southward, dim,/The road runs by me white and bare’, to quote Archibald Lampman on the subject of heat, ‘Up the steep hill it seems to swim/Beyond, and melt into the glare.’ The road isn’t the only thing melting here in Florence, either. Within 10 minutes of leaving home for my morning walk I’m perspiring so freely that I look as if…