Have you ever visited a place you had dreamed of seeing, only to find yourself swallowed by crowds, unable to stop, unable to look, unable to simply... be there? If you have, you will know exactly the feeling I am talking about. And if you have not yet experienced it, chances are you will.
I had that exact feeling not so long ago when I returned to Florence after not having visited for a few years. I was not there at the height of summer, not during a festival or a public holiday, just an ordinary visit at a quieter time of year. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found. When I made my way to Ponte Vecchio, one of the most iconic and beloved landmarks in all of Italy, I found myself swimming in a sea of people. I was shuffling along with the crowd, barely able to catch a glimpse of the famous jewellery shops lining either side of the bridge, let alone pause to enjoy the breathtaking view over the Arno River below. It was overwhelming, and honestly, it was heartbreaking.
And yet, standing there in that crowd, my mind drifted back to another visit, one from a very different time.
It was the 1980s, and I was lucky enough to visit Ponte Vecchio when the bridge was simply walkable. There were not many people around, and I could stroll at my own pace and actually look, really look, at the jewellery displays that have made this bridge legendary for centuries. As I was admiring one shop after the other, what struck me was the contrast between the pieces on display: elaborate, intricate designs sitting alongside work of breathtaking simplicity, each one commanding attention in its own way through sheer craftsmanship. You needed time to appreciate that difference. You needed stillness. And back then, you could have both.
Looking back now, I realise just how privileged I was to have experienced Ponte Vecchio, the Trevi Fountain, Piazza San Marco and many of these extraordinary places before all of this madness took hold.
I still remember the moment I first noticed things were beginning to change. It was when selfie sticks started appearing at every famous landmark and piazza across Italy. I recall thinking that visiting these extraordinary places was becoming less about experiencing them and more about announcing "look where I am."
But it was another moment, a much quieter one, that truly made me realise how profoundly the way some people travel had changed. I was sitting at a café during one of my trips to Italy, not a particularly famous one, just a lovely ordinary place where I had stopped to enjoy a coffee. A girl sitting alone at the table next to me moved my bag and belongings from the bench we were sharing, without a word, so that she could rearrange everything on her table and have my belongings out of the picture. She spent what felt like an endless amount of time adjusting and readjusting before finally photographing the muffin and cappuccino she had ordered. It was in that moment that I said to myself, look where you are. And yet all this person was interested in was how her muffin and cappuccino would look on social media, completely oblivious to the fact that she was sitting in one of the most beautiful countries in the world.
Do not get me wrong. I have nothing against taking photographs or capturing a selfie in a memorable place. I have even been guilty of photographing a particularly beautiful dish in a restaurant that offered a truly special meal. Of course, you want to remember where you have been and share that joy with others. But there is something about watching someone spend an endless amount of time carefully staging a simple muffin and cappuccino in a café in one of the most beautiful countries in the world that made me stop and think, and if I am being completely honest, it also made me laugh.
I am fortunate to have visited so many of Italy's most celebrated landmarks before the crowds descended, and I completely understand why people still want to see them. They are iconic for a reason, and that will never change. But lately my own travels have shifted toward less visited places, quieter corners of Italy that most tourists simply never make it to. It has been a way of recapturing that feeling I once had at Ponte Vecchio, that sense of slow, mindful, immersive experience that is almost impossible to find when you are constantly standing in line, battling through crowds or being moved along because someone needs you out of their shot.
A quiet street in Calavino, Trentino Alto Adige - one of those little towns tourists don't go where you can experience the real Italy
There is a different Italy out there, one that is just as beautiful, just as rich in history and culture, and infinitely more peaceful. And that is the Italy I want to share with you through this blog and my travel tips you will find on my Discover Italy section.
And if you do still want to visit the famous landmarks, I completely understand, and I would not want to discourage you. Over the years I have learnt that timing can make an enormous difference to your experience. In my "top tips for travelling smart in Italy" you will find some practical advice on when to visit some of Italy's most beloved places to help you avoid at least the worst of the crowds, so that you can still have a moment of genuine connection with these extraordinary sites, even in the age of overtourism.
People call it mindful travel these days, but back in the 1980s we did not need a term for it. We were just... there. And that is exactly the kind of travelling I want to help you rediscover.