AN ITALIAN ADVENTURE
The Travel Blog is Back!
25: a polarising age where a lot of friends are getting married and having kids, whilst others are hitting the bottle hard every weekend. I on the other hand, fall into neither of these categories, with a pretty regimented (albeit busy) schedule as I try to climb the career ladder. I enjoy a drink, but get little joy from boozing. I’m independent, but I live at home whilst I save. I’m always on the go, but I’m in bed by 10 o'clock. You get the gist.
As I approach the latter half of my second decade (it seems this is the age where we start to say “We’re getting old now”), I ponder on the question of my “why” behind my actions. Why is it that I’m so fixated on saving to buy a place of my own? Why is it I say no to social events in case they disrupt my routine? Why is it that I disregard leisurely activities such as travel, in case they offset my health and fitness goals?
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It stems from my obsession of having control, of ensuring all conditions are perfect so that I’m in the constant pursuit of progress. Isn’t that what your 20’s are for? Figuring your shit out? But this is “figuring your shit out” by following the standards defined by society (like getting a career, buying a house, getting married, etc), not necessarily by making success of your own. The truth is, I use routine as a comfort blanket. Routine is familiar, it is safety, it’s a means to reducing the chances of failure since after all, habits are the framework for improvement. It’s taken me a while to realise that trying to be perfect all the time actually makes you quite stagnant. It’s your internal resistance saying, “Not yet, you’re not ready yet”, or, “I have XYZ to do beforehand”, but if you listen to that voice forever then you will never be ready. That voice will never let you be ready.
There’s a fine line between being sensible and cock-blocking yourself from life’s greatest opportunities, and one of my key learnings in a post-covid state of affairs is that I’ve spent enough time with tunnel vision - blocking out opportunities to live life because these *might* mean that I experience a step backwards rather than a step forwards with my goals. It might mean imperfect circumstances, it might mean that work or another area of my life takes a hit, it might mean losing money (I’m carefully not using the phrase ‘wasting money’ here). 2022 was the year I said I would say “Yes” to more and to not let that internal voice stop me. With that, travel was one of the areas I felt I’d missed out on not only because of the pandemic, but I’d intentionally blinkered myself from the opportunity.
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When I arrived back from Australia in 2020, I was resentful to be back in England. Solo travel opened my eyes to the limitless opportunity for self-betterment and I’d never felt so liberated. What I loved was that I could be whoever I wanted to be, I could figure out a life for myself without the confinements of a social/cultural system I was imbedded in from the day I was born. To be back home was taking a step backwards; back to being around the people who had known me all my life, back to a system where I had little excuse to trip up and fuck around sometimes because these people were here to hold me accountable. Once Covid came around - when all we could do was stay at home - I was desperate to make something of the down time and became obsessed with working. I did everything I could to make marginal gains in my career when I knew others would be very much embracing the slowness of furlough. Don’t get me wrong, it was one of the best things I ever did - sending out my portfolio to numerous PR agencies exposed me to the work I needed to get me into the creative industry. However, this determination translated to a fixation with routine and now I can very openly admit that it led to a fear of stepping outside of that. Cue 2022, it was time to live into possibility and say yes to things that got me out of my soft and pillowy routine.
So Why Italy?
One word: Food.
I adore the simplicity of Italian recipes, the Italian passion for the best ingredients, the fact that food underpins the entire culture. Yet, food has the power to divide the nation as this shared cultural legacy is disturbed by fierce regional pride.
Italian cuisine is so much more than pizza or pasta and it remains current in our daily consciousness through its standard-bearing pantry essentials. Take olive oil or balsamic vinegar for example; these are staples in everyone’s cupboard. Parmigiano Reggiano and Grana Padano; two cheeses dating back to the 12th century. The Italians are particularly defensive of their ancient production methods, meaning that the taste is uncompromised and tastes like it was meant to back when the recipe was created nearly a thousand years ago. Cold cuts such as Parma’s prosciutto, Piacenza’s pancetta, coppa and salami, or Bologna’s mortadella are just a few of the renowned meats we know and love. The names of these ingredients are exclusively reserved to products produced in their place of origin, take Parma Ham for example. It’s illegal to name a product “Parma Ham” unless it’s actually from Parma and meets the strict product specifications.
Any experimentation with its culinary formula is frowned upon. The food is reliable; you know what you’re going to get and you can share a meal with even your fussiest of friends. Food is an expression of love, where people pause their busy schedules to spend quality time around the dinner table; a time to enjoy a sense of pleasure with one another. The phrase “buon appetito” literally translates to “good eating”. I really relate to this philosophy around food, since one of my greatest joys is cooking for the people I love. I want my friends and family to sit around the table with no distraction, to engage with one another and use my food as the means to do so. I want them to share food and taste flavours they might not try otherwise, scooping up the leftovers from one another’s bowls to get the last juicy bite. I want them to share common ground in food and feel mesmerised in this moment. I’m not suggesting my food is exceptional, more that it is the bridge bringing us to this occasion.
The native food culture is far less distinct back at home, though I don’t deny that England is a hive of gastronomic activity thanks to our ever-growing, diverse population. London is the epicentre of this, as heralded by one of the UK’s most prominent food voices, Jay Rayner. “Looking for the finest French restaurants? Go to London, not Paris”. It’s an interesting read that really got me thinking - I digress. Equally, my hometown of Brighton is bustling with great restaurants and I’d argue it’s not far behind London as one of the best cities to eat in the UK. However, what it lacks is a hearty, authentic Italian restaurant serving up unpretentious plates of fresh ingredients, or mounds of fresh pasta following Nonna’s original recipe. I’ve been saying it for years. Whilst I have no interest in opening a restaurant myself, I do wish I got to enjoy this beautiful cuisine at home more.
The solution? To go to Italy and learn about the food from its people.
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My trip consists of crossing four different regions: 2 days in Venice (Veneto), 4 days in Bologna (Emilia Romagna), 4 in Florence (Tuscany), and my final 4 days in Rome (Lazio). It seemed a good route to get a substantial feel of the Italian food culture, but I don’t deny there are many more areas each with their own unique customs around food. I’m already anticipating a second visit! My blog is more of a splurge of thoughts which I can look back on in years to come, but if you are interested then please do follow along to get some of my tips for places to eat and cultural learnings along the way.
Ciao for now!
