I’m originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, and living in Italy was never really part of some grand plan. For years, it felt like one of those distant ideas — something to admire, maybe dream about, but not something I seriously expected to do. My path here was anything but direct, shaped mostly by travel and a quiet sense that many places I lived, while enjoyable, never quite felt like home.

Before Italy, I spent several years living in Hoi An, Vietnam. It was welcoming, beautiful, and incredibly easy to settle into. But over time, it began to feel less like a place to build a life and more like an extended vacation. That realization was a key inflection point. I spent time traveling Portugal and Spain, and eventually began moving through Italy. Much of what I encountered was undeniably beautiful, yet often felt heavily oriented toward visitors rather than everyday living.

Arriving in Grottole felt different immediately. The village didn’t feel staged or polished for outsiders. I felt like I stepped into a time capsule, and that is exactly what I longed for. People knew each other. Daily life moved according to long-standing habits. The connection between land, food, work, and community was visible everywhere. What I had been searching for without quite naming it suddenly felt very clear.

I met my partner, Iryna, while living in Ukraine, where my family roots also extend. Just before the war began, I encouraged her to leave while I was temporarily back in the United States. Thankfully, she was able to do so in time. When we later returned to Italy together one month later, Grottole became her first real experience of village life here. Coming from Kyiv, the shift in scale and pace was understandably jarring. Yet over time, she began to recognize something familiar — echoes of the rhythms and traditions she had known growing up.

By 2026, we will have lived in Grottole for four years. I still remember our first winter here. The streets felt quiet, the air cold and damp, and Iryna kept asking, “Where is everyone?” Of course, most people were simply indoors. Even small things required adjustment. A mid-afternoon trip for groceries quickly revealed the reality of village hours, with shops closing from early afternoon until evening. Like many aspects of Italian life, it wasn’t really an obstacle — it was a different logic.

What initially felt like inconvenience gradually became understanding. We learned to approach the day more like locals do. Mornings for errands and shopping. Midday for lunch and rest. Later hours for work, visits, and social life. Over time, those patterns stopped feeling foreign and started feeling deeply sensible, even comforting.

Today, we live in Grottole as participants in village life rather than observers. We work the land, take part in community events, and contribute where we can. I’ve volunteered teaching conversational English, and when photographs are needed for local activities, I’m often the one called. Our intention has never been to change the village, but simply to live here with respect, curiosity, and appreciation for what already exists.

This website grew naturally from that experience. It is my attempt to share an honest, lived-in view of life in Grottole — as we have come to know it — for those who feel genuinely curious about small-village Italy and willing to understand a place on its own terms. We hope to encourage and invite others with similar goals to join us, for a month or maybe, to build your own Italian dream.