Where am I?

“Marble, Citrus, and the Sound of Change”

It was March 2020 — a month that would split history in two. The air carried that strange tension of a world not yet closed but already uneasy, like the sky before a storm. I was spending my days in a capital city older than democracy itself, wandering marble boulevards lined with citrus trees. The scent of oranges hung in the air, sweet and sharp, blending with the sea salt and the faint piney whisper of a local wine poured freely at every corner café.