At the peak of a pandemic, I shipped around 45 moving boxes to Italy. While most of my friends and family asked me if I had completely lost the plot, I was more certain and in love than ever.
It all started on August 20th, 2018. I boarded a plane from London Heathrow to Bologna to meet Leo, an Italian boy I had met a decade earlier on the beaches of Sardinia. This teenage boy, who had grown into an extremely charming young man, turned out to be the love of my twenty-seven-year-old life.
On our first date, he took me to try the Emilian speciality tortellini in brodo, hand-rolled and meat-filled pasta swimming in a hot broth. We sat on the terrace facing the rolling hills of the Colline Modenesi. Amongst flirtatious smiles and knee caresses, I found myself indecisive on what had caused my body temperature to rise: him, this hot broth I would normally only eat if I had the flu, or the outside temperature of 28ºC (82ºF)! Probably a combination of all three.
In 2018, London had 8.9 million residents of which I assume around 50% were male.
Without getting too much into statistics, I had unsuccessfully been dating for a while. Love seemed to be a foreign word in England’s capital, so as destiny would have it, I found amore 1,471 km (915 miles) from my Marylebone apartment. More specifically, in the province of Modena; the closest I had gotten to Modena prior was the balsamic vinegar of Modena I drizzled over my salads.
Leo (chosen name deriving from the guilty’s zodiac sign), funny enough a balsamic vinegar producer, welcomed me into his Italian world, and I never wanted to leave it again. My previous “let’s go for a drink at this new bar in Soho” dates turned into thought-through experiences like eating the catch of the day in a fish restaurant set on a long pier above the Adriatic Sea, sitting on the back of a vintage Vespa driving along wheat field roads, exploring little castle towns and having one too many Spritzes in their piazzas. Leo always had an idea: we would wander through Mercato Albinelli in Modena, through the portico arcades to San Luca in Bologna and spend nights in nearby cities like Verona or Florence. Every single time I left, I was longing to come back.
After more than a 100 flights, countless FaceTime calls and consistent ups and downs–as most long distance relationships endure–our story faced a screeching halt: the pandemic. Planes stopped flying, video chats increased and the saudade was a wrench in the stomach. Although this pause seemed eternal, it turned out to be something igniting, the factor that motivated me to move to Italy.
The reason I am still here, nearly five years later, is because I discovered two loves of my life: not only my Leo, but a country that has made me feel more welcomed and joyful than anywhere else in the world.
