Summer in Rome.

Expectation: breathe the soul of the classics, soak up the history, feel the romance.

Reality: breathe in the AC, soak in a pool of sweat, feel ever so slightly unhinged.

My plans to indulge in Italy’s time-honored tradition of la passeggiata — strolling around looking stylish, gelato in hand — were quickly nixed by the Cerberus heatwave.