There’s something special about traveling slowly in Italy. I’m not talking about just taking your time — I mean really slowing down, letting the day unfold without trying to squeeze ten towns into it. It’s the only way I know how to travel now, and it’s the only way I want to show Italy to others.
Because here’s the truth: Italy is full of beauty, not just in famous cities but in the tiniest villages — places you’ve never heard of. You can stumble on a Roman arch in a forgotten alley, or find yourself sitting in a church that looks like a museum but has no entry fee and no tourists. It’s the most monument-rich country in the world, and yet some of the most amazing places aren’t on any official list.
Food is the same. It might sound strange, but even after a lifetime here, I keep discovering new things — a different type of cheese, a traditional way to preserve vegetables, or a pasta shape I’d never seen before. Italy’s culinary tradition is so wide and deep that no one can know it all. Every region, every province, even every family does things a little differently.
And the only way to find those things?
You have to slow down. You have to talk to people.
That’s why I don’t plan my tours like a military operation. We move freely. We have structure, of course — we need to get to the hotel by night — but beyond that, we’re open. If someone tells us there’s a tiny farm making fresh pecorino just down the road, we go. If we smell bread baking and there’s time, we stop. That’s where the real experiences live.
I always say: the best things on a trip are the ones you didn’t plan. The ones you couldn’t plan.
Slow travel also lets you build real memories. Not a list of “seen it, ate it, next.” But stories. Conversations. Moments of silence on a hill with a view you’ll never forget. A dish so good it makes you stop talking for a second.
So no, we don’t rush. We don’t tick boxes. We live each day as it comes, with curiosity and good appetite. That’s how you discover the real Italy — and maybe a piece of yourself too.