…We arrived in Poggio Nativo, a tiny town in the very center of Italy, tucked into the hills. It’s where my family home is, and it’s where we spent the next month and a half. Time moved differently there. Slower. The air smelled of sun and rosemary. I read books outside, ate tomatoes like fruit, and fell asleep to the sound of crickets. There’s a peace in that place that I can’t explain — only feel. Like the land is holding you, just softly enough to let you breathe.
And then, as all dreamy stretches do, the time came to begin the journey home.
We left Italy the same way we came, slowly. That first night we stopped again in Parma, returning to the familiar streets and ordering vegan pizza at a local spot that felt like it had been waiting for us. It was quiet, easy, grounding.
From there, we headed into France, spending two nights in Colmar. I’d always seen photos of it online, the flowerboxes, the canals, the pastel buildings, but being there felt like walking through a storybook. We wandered markets, bought things we didn’t need, and let ourselves be charmed. The whole town seemed to glow.
On our final stretch, we made our way toward Calais to catch the train, but not before one last detour. Dunkirk. For me, this stop was everything. As a lifelong history enthusiast, getting to plan my own road trip and weave in places I’d studied was surreal. I stood on the beach and imagined what it must have felt like in 1940. It was windy and quiet and strangely moving. Being there felt like closing a circle — not just geographically, but emotionally, too.
Soon after, we drove onto the train, crossed beneath the sea again, and made our way back to the UK.
The whole trip, from South Wales to central Italy and back again, wasn’t about the fastest route. It was about presence. About making the journey part of the destination. About letting the road surprise us, feed us, break down on us, and remind us that time is something we can stretch when we choose to.
I didn’t just get from point A to point B. I experienced every letter in between.
And honestly, that’s how I want to keep traveling.
