A little piece of Italy came home with me
I’m home, but I left a little piece of my heart in Italy.
This trip touched me deeply. After eight years away from Italy, being back reconnected me with a part of myself that has been there since childhood. The culture, the traditions, the food, the way of life — all the things I grew up surrounded by, even here in Australia. A connection to my roots, my family and the place that has always been part of who I am.
For more than twelve months, I’d been dreaming and planning this trip, bringing together everything I love about Italy — its food, its people, the little towns and the traditions that make it special. And then, suddenly, there we were. Fifteen people sharing this adventure, some familiar faces and some new ones, each bringing their own story. For some, it was their first time travelling overseas; for others, their first time in Europe. I knew what a big step this was for them, and I felt a huge responsibility to make it something special.
A trip like this is shaped just as much by the people you share it with as the places you visit.
I feel incredibly lucky I had Barbara alongside me. A complete stranger I’d connected with online, by chance, and from the beginning I had this feeling that she was the right partner to bring my vision to life. Her knowledge and love for her country and the care she put into every detail made such a difference. And then there was my sister Paola, who I asked to come along for support. She brought so much joy to the group, always had my back and was there quietly supporting me throughout.
For those who followed along on social media, I’m sure you’d agree just how beautiful Italy is. The gorgeous towns, the coastlines, the food, the architecture and all those picture-perfect moments. But photographs can only ever tell a small part of the story. They don’t capture the conversations, the laughter around the table, the warmth of the people we met.
And that’s what really stayed with me.
Italy isn’t perfect. Its big cities are dense, busy and often chaotic. There are crowds, traffic, little apartments and very little space. Life isn’t necessarily easy for everyone. In many ways, we have so much more space and greenery here in Australia. But what struck me was that, amongst all that busyness, there is still such a strong connection to the things that matter. A deep respect for tradition, culture, family and the craft of doing something really well.
You see it everywhere, but especially in the food. Italians don’t just make food; they protect it, celebrate it and take enormous pride in where it comes from. Take Parmigiano Reggiano, for example. It can only be produced in a specific region, following traditions and strict standards protected for generations. It’s not simply parmesan cheese. It’s a piece of their heritage.
Even a little coastal town like Camogli has its own special sweet treat, a beautiful pastry filled with chocolate and rum that is part of the town’s identity. I loved the idea that something so simple could be so treasured. I bought a whole tray and took it back to our group in Santa Margherita so everyone could have a taste. It wasn’t just about sharing a dessert. It was about sharing a little piece of Camogli.
I found that so beautiful. In Australia, we’re a relatively young country, and while we have wonderful food producers and makers, I don’t think we experience that same deep-rooted connection between a place, its history and the food it produces. In Italy, these traditions aren’t something people talk about nostalgically. They’re living, breathing parts of everyday life.
And then there’s their gusto for life.
Food is never just about eating. It’s part of the conversation, the connection and the rhythm of the day. We’d wake up and the conversation would somehow turn to what we were having for lunch, and before lunch was even finished, we’d be talking about dinner! It wasn’t an obsession with food; it was the genuine excitement and pleasure of knowing another beautiful meal, another gathering and another opportunity to sit together was coming.
There was no rushing through a meal to get on with the next thing. People sat, talked, laughed, poured another glass and enjoyed one another’s company. Even on a Monday or Tuesday, restaurants were full. It made me wonder, when we became so busy that we stopped making time for this.
And despite the long lunches and all that beautiful food, we were incredibly active. Some days we clocked up 20,000 steps, wandering through towns, exploring little streets, climbing hills and taking in everything around us. We were on the go from morning until night, yet somehow never seemed to tire of it. There was always something new to discover. Life felt full, not with obligations and things to tick off, but with experiences.
Perhaps that’s the difference. It’s not necessarily that Italians have less to do or an easier life. It’s that they seem to understand the importance of making room for enjoyment along the way. It’s a blend of work and life – they don’t start and stop work, and then enjoy life, it’s all interwoven
Being back in Italy reminded me of where I’ve come from. It gave me a deeper understanding of my parents, their upbringing and the world they carried with them when they came to Australia.
I think many children of Italian immigrants will understand this. Our parents brought their culture with them — their food, their traditions, their strong opinions and their very particular ways of doing things! As children, we didn’t always understand it. I sometimes saw their stubbornness as an unwillingness to change, but being back in Italy, I began to see it differently. It wasn’t stubbornness at all. It was pride. A deep-rooted connection to their culture, their identity and the way of life they knew and loved. Somehow, being surrounded by it all again, I felt a little closer to them. I understood them in a way I hadn’t quite before.
And then there were the fifteen people who shared this journey with me. Some arrived knowing each other, others were complete strangers. But spending almost every waking hour together, sharing meals, stories, laughter and even a few gratitude tears, created something quite special. There were conversations that went well beyond travel, moments of kindness and a genuine sense of looking out for one another. Friendships formed in the most beautiful and unexpected ways.
I hope everyone who travelled with me took home their own special memories and little pieces of Italy. For me, it was a chance to reconnect with my heritage, make new friendships and be reminded of what makes life so rich.
I came home with an even greater appreciation for where I am today.
Italy, grazie di cuore. ❤️
Fi x
