Lugano, Lucerne, and the strange feeling of missing a place while being excited to leave it.
For the first time in seven and a half months, we left Italy!
Until recently, we really couldn’t. I was advised not to leave the country while my Italian citizenship application was being processed, at least until I had my residence permit in hand. Three weeks ago tomorrow, I finally received my card. We were free to travel!
And wouldn’t you know it? After all that time waiting to leave, I found myself feeling a little nostalgic almost as soon as we crossed the border.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
An Anniversary and a Change of Plans
We had originally planned to leave on Sunday, heading north through Switzerland on our way to Belgium. But last Wednesday, we decided to leave three days early. Thursday was our 15th wedding anniversary, and what better way to celebrate than treating ourselves to a few nights at a beautiful spa hotel?
We chose Lugano, Switzerland, somewhat spontaneously. Daren had done an iFit cycling workout there and remembered the trainer riding around the lake, crossing between Switzerland and Italy. It had stuck with him, and Lugano happened to be right along our route.
So Thursday morning, we packed up the car, loaded Koji, and headed north.
We had all our paperwork ready. My American passport and brand-new Italian residence card, Daren’s Irish passport, Koji’s EU pet passport, and his rabies certificate. We were convinced that traveling with a large dog would guarantee some kind of inspection.
We approached the Swiss border, saw cars being pulled over for random checks, and prepared ourselves.
And then… Nothing. They waved us right through!
Seven and a half months of waiting, all that paperwork, and crossing the border took approximately three seconds.

Switzerland, But Not Quite Yet
Almost immediately, things began looking different.
The buildings seemed newer, more modern, more industrial. Although, to be fair, northern Italy had already started looking that way. We’d stopped in Modena for lunch, driven past Milan, and noticed how much the landscape and architecture had changed from our little corner of Tuscany.
It’s interesting because Italians are always telling us how incredibly different their regions are. And they are different, but perhaps not in the dramatic ways Italians themselves perceive them.
From an outsider’s perspective, Italy can feel remarkably uniform. The old stone and plaster buildings, the historic town centers/piazzas, the menus, even the trash along the roads. The differences are often subtle, gradually shifting as you travel north or south.
But here’s something we’ve been talking about as we drive today: having spent seven and a half uninterrupted months in Italy, we actually began to recognize those subtleties. We can now appreciate differences that we probably wouldn’t have noticed if we’d spent a few weeks in Tuscany, a few in France, and a few somewhere else.
Being required to stay put gave us something we hadn’t anticipated: a much better understanding of where we were.
And now, having finally left, we’re noticing things about other countries that might have escaped us entirely seven months ago.
Lugano was a perfect first stop because, in many ways, it was Switzerland Lite.
Everyone still spoke Italian. We could still use the language we’d been learning. There were familiar foods and customs, but the surroundings were distinctly different.
The buildings were tidier, the streets felt cleaner, and everything seemed a little more modern and larger. Daren immediately noticed how neat and well-maintained things looked compared with Italy, where even beautiful places can appear a bit worn down.
It felt exotic and strangely familiar at the same time. A little more like the United States, but definitely not American. Something in between.
Fifteen Years and a Little Luxury
We arrived early enough to enjoy the private spa at our hotel before settling in for anniversary aperitivos.
Not a bad way to celebrate fifteen years!









Dinner that night was just ok. We had a 3 course dinner package with our booking. We had curry, which was exciting simply because it wasn’t another Italian menu. But it wasn’t the quality we had grown a little used to. I like the pic below because you can see our reflection. I was texting my daughter Gabby and showing her how happy I was to be eating non Italian food.

First Full Day out of Italy
The next morning, we headed out to explore Lugano.
We took the funicular up Monte San Salvatore, enjoying spectacular views of the lake and surrounding mountains. The landscape felt different from Tuscany, with the mountains rising sharply around the water.















Then we headed into town with Koji, walking through the streets, browsing shops, and enjoying the atmosphere.
And the shops!
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing certain stores and products. There were familiar brands, things we hadn’t seen in months, and even my Olaplex hair products! Swiss watches, chocolates, army knives, and all sorts of things we recognize from home.
But it wasn’t just American familiarity and accompanying Swiss brands. There was a wonderful mix of cultures and influences.
In Italy, food can be fiercely regional. Certain dishes belong to certain places, and menus often follow fairly predictable patterns. In Lugano, we found an Italian-Austrian-Swiss restaurant just off the main square where the menu seemed much more willing to mix things up.
I ordered risotto with purple cabbage and a Lugano cheese. It was delicious and unlike anything I’d eaten in Italy.
Daren had orecchiette with Swiss cheese and broccoli rabe. It was Italian food, but prepared more like the Italian food we’re accustomed to in the United States. Not quite so bound by tradition.
We loved it.
We walked, shopped, and explored. Daren found some really cool clothes that I can’t wait to see him wear. We stopped for gelato, which tasted suspiciously more like ice cream than the gelato we’d grown accustomed to in Italy.
Another little reminder that we’d crossed a border.








That evening, Daren had a work call, so we ate at the hotel’s bistro.
Meh.
We were beginning to discover that Switzerland had plenty to offer, but consistently wonderful food wasn’t necessarily one of those things.
A Saturday in Lugano
Saturday morning, we walked back down into town.
What a difference a day made! The streets were more bustling, there was a car show, and the park was full of people running, walking, relaxing, and enjoying the beautiful weather.
We found a cute craft shop, wandered around, and let Koji enjoy the lake. He even went for a swim and sampled the water.
He was having a pretty good vacation himself! 🐾






















For lunch, we had pretzel sandwiches and a pretzel au chocolat.
Oh. My. God. So good!
There is something wonderful about discovering foods you haven’t had in months. A simple pretzel sandwich suddenly becomes a major culinary event.
We eventually made our way slowly back up the hill to the hotel. Koji had walked a tremendous amount over the past couple of days, so we took plenty of breaks, gave him water, and let him rest. Once we got back, all three of us enjoyed a long afternoon break.
That evening, Daren and I went out to dinner without him.
One funny thing about being in Italian Switzerland is that some things still operate on Italian time. We arrived at the restaurant around seven, and it was practically empty.
We found a steakhouse and ordered something we hadn’t eaten since crossing the Atlantic: regular sirloin steaks, broccoli, and mashed potatoes.
Nothing fancy. Nothing particularly Swiss. And it was fantastic.
We sat there for a long time, talking. We’ve had so many meaningful conversations during our time in Italy. We’ve read books together, talked about what we’ve learned, reflected on our lives, and spent more uninterrupted time together than we ever had before.
But this conversation was particularly memorable. We talked about our past, our present, things we’ve been through together, and how our understanding of ourselves and each other continues to change.
It was one of those evenings when you feel especially connected, when you realize how much there still is to discover about someone you’ve shared your life with for so long.
Fifteen years of marriage, and we’re still learning.
The Little Things That Make Anywhere Feel Like Home
One of the unexpected pleasures of this year has been the routines we’ve developed together.
We’ve read books and discussed them, sometimes watching a movie or series based on what we’d read. We’ve watched documentaries and shows connected to places we’ve visited or things we’ve been learning about, including Stanley Tucci’s travels, Pompeii, Herculaneum, and the Medici family.
We’ve watched some wonderful series, too.
And wherever we happen to be, whether at home in Figline or in a hotel somewhere along the road, we tend to keep the same evening routine.
We settle in, watch something together, talk about it, and I usually knit.
Most nights we laugh our butts off watching Jimmy Kimmel, Jon Stewart, or Bill Maher.
And then, to finish the evening, we watch an episode (or two) of Sex and the City.
Neither of us had ever seen it, and we decided it was time. An episode at a time, usually about twenty minutes, has become our little nighttime ritual.
Sometimes it’s the perfect lighthearted ending to a heavy documentary or an emotional drama. Sometimes it’s just a fun way to finish an ordinary day at home in Tuscany when we haven’t done much of anything.
Even when we’ve had guests, we’ve generally kept some version of this routine.
It’s funny how these little things become familiar anchors. We can be in an entirely different country, sleeping in a different bed, surrounded by a language we don’t understand, and still have our evening together.
The scenery changes, but our little world travels with us.
Of course Koji is by our side wherever we are on his bed or his travel blankie.
A Whole New Switzerland
Sunday morning, we packed up and headed toward Lucerne.
The drive took us through the Gotthard Tunnel, one of the major routes through the Swiss Alps. The tunnel is a 12 mile/20 mile engineering marvel through the mountains.
Getting there was another story. Traffic was backed up for miles because of the traffic lights that regulate access to the tunnel. We crawled along for what felt like forever, and by the time we finally got through the congestion, I was exhausted.
We stopped for gas and a break at a Swiss highway rest stop.
Another little cultural observation: Koji could come inside with us! Dogs are welcome in so many restaurants, cafés, and public places in Italy and Switzerland. It’s something we’ve grown accustomed to, and something we’re already realizing we’ll miss when we eventually return to the United States.
After our break, we continued through the tunnel.
I fell fast asleep. Daren later described emerging on the other side as though he’d driven into an entirely different world.
Gone were the Italian-looking buildings and familiar landscape. Suddenly there were wooden chalets, Alpine houses, and architecture that looked distinctly Bavarian.
And the signs were in German!
I woke up about twenty minutes outside Lucerne and couldn’t believe how different everything looked.
The mountains were still there. We were still in Switzerland. But the language, buildings, and entire feel of the place had changed.
And that’s when something unexpected happened… I felt a little sad.
Not because I didn’t like what I was seeing. Quite the opposite! It was refreshing and exciting. But I realized how accustomed I’d become to Italian.
For seven and a half months, speaking to people has required effort. I have to think about what I want to say, search for words, try to understand responses, and sometimes (ok almost always) stumble through conversations.
And now, suddenly, I didn’t have to do any of that. We don’t speak German. We don’t even know how to say hello!
So we were back to speaking English everywhere, and everyone could understand us.
It should have felt like a relief. In some ways, it did. But it was also a little weird. I kind of missed the effort, the chance to practice and to really think about almost every word I say. Something that had been a daily challenge had subtlety become part of my life, was I missing it???
Lucerne: A Different Kind of Familiar
We arrived in Lucerne before our hotel room was ready, so we dropped off the car and bags and headed out on foot with Koji.
We had lunch at a supposedly traditional Swiss restaurant recommended by the hotel. It was terrible.
Fortunately, Lucerne itself was beautiful. Fairytale could be an overly exaggerated word to describe a beautiful place, but if there was a fairytale set in a medieval town, Lucerne would be what it looked like.
We walked around the old town, explored the streets, and eventually returned to the hotel to get Koji watered and situated with his blankie for some well needed rest. Daren and I headed back out.
We visited the medieval city walls, the famous Lion Monument, and more of the old town.































A Quiet Night in Lucerne
By evening, we weren’t particularly hungry, and after a full day of walking and large, latter lunch, we didn’t feel like another restaurant adventure.
So we went back to the hotel, fed and walked Koji, and headed out for Thai takeout. We brought it back to the room, got comfortable, and watched the final three episodes of season two of Broadchurch.
What a great series and the Thai takeout Was So Good!!
It was one of those perfectly ordinary evenings that has become such a special part of this year.
We’d spent the day exploring a beautiful Swiss city, seeing things we’d never seen before. And then we came back to our little temporary home, ate takeout, watched television, and enjoyed being together.
Sometimes that’s as good as it gets.
The Strange Comfort of a Flat Floor
There’s another little moment from our first night in Switzerland that I keep thinking about.
I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. For the first time in months, I wasn’t worried about where I was stepping.
Seriously! Haha! We’ve stayed in so many old Italian buildings, with uneven floors, unexpected steps, strange layouts, and all sorts of little quirks, that I’ve become accustomed to being extremely careful when getting up in the dark.
But here I was, in this modern Swiss hotel, and everything was flat, predictable, and exactly where it should be. I felt completely comfortable.
And then, almost immediately, I felt a tiny bit nostalgic for those quirky old Italian buildings. How ridiculous is that?
Something that had driven me crazy was suddenly something I missed. Even the hotel smelled different.
I found myself thinking about how our family and friends must have felt when they visited us in Italy. How unfamiliar everything probably seemed to them, even when we had already grown accustomed to it.
Now we were the ones experiencing that feeling. I am getting a sense of what I’m going to be missing and what going home is going to feel like.
Familiar Things in Unexpected Places
This morning, we left Lucerne and are headed toward Belgium.
Along the way, we stopped at a highway service area, an Autogrill stop close to the border of France. These have become a regular part of our road trips in Italy.
For anyone unfamiliar with them, Italian Autogrills are highway rest stops where you can get coffee, pastries, sandwiches, meals, and all sorts of things. They’re a whole different experience from the gas station convenience stores we’re used to in the United States.
We’ve come to love them. But this one was different. There was a BP gas station! I hadn’t seen one since leaving the United States.
There were larger coffees, pumpkin spice lattes, pretzel sandwiches, and eggs cooked to order. Breakfast? An actual selection of breakfast foods!
After seven and a half months of Italian breakfasts, where a cornetto and a small coffee are the norm, this was a delightful surprise.
And yet, what did we order?Chocolate cornetti (with our sandwich & eggs). Of course.
They weren’t filled with Nutella, though. The chocolate had a little crunch to it, almost like a Nestlé Crunch bar. Swiss chocolate, perhaps?
And then Daren pointed at something he thought I’d like. A Dolce & Gabbana panettone.
Suddenly, I was thinking about last year. Around this time last fall, we were getting ready for our move to Italy, visiting places in Italy to look for a place to live. Panettone was beginning to appear everywhere, and I became completely obsessed with it. My dad had recently passed and it was a staple around my house growing up around the holidays. New Year’s Eve it was always the tradition at midnight to dip a piece in champagne. I never liked it, but my dad’s passing and seeing it in his home country (soon to be mine too)… it felt special.
I went home and made a ton of it. Everyone I knew got some of my homemade panetone last year. I even made gluten free versions for my gluten free peeps!
Now here it is again, coming out for the holidays like it did last year, when we were so excited about the idea of living in Italy, learning about its food and traditions, and experiencing everyday life there.
I also fell in love with the Dolce & Gabbana Bialetti moka pots (stove top espresso maker). I thought about buying one for months before finally taking the plunge in May.
I chose the blue one, knowing that someday we’d bring it home to Branford, where it would fit right in with our beachy décor.
And now, here we are. Last year, we were dreaming about moving to Italy. This year, we are living there. And in a little over four months, we’ll be leaving. It’s a strange feeling that is border crossing is bringing out in me.
Missing Two Places at Once
As we’ve traveled these past few days, I’ve been happily enjoying many things I’ve missed from home. The variety of food. Familiar stores. Modern buildings. Larger coffees. Different breakfast choices. A little less rigidity about how things are supposed to be done.
In some ways, Switzerland reminded me of the United States, where you can find all sorts of cultures, foods, and influences living side by side. You can be in New England, Virginia, or Texas and experience very different regional identities, while still recognizing that you’re in the same country.
Switzerland has its own unmistakable identity, but there seems to be more room for different influences to coexist.
And I love that!!
I love seeing new things. I love the differences. I love the feeling of crossing a border and finding an entirely new way of doing things.
However I’m a little surprised by how much Italy has become familiar too.
The language. The food. The buildings. The daily routines. Even the things that annoy me. For seven and a half months, Italy has been our world.
We’ve had the opportunity to settle into it rather than simply visit. We’ve experienced its quirks, frustrations, beauty, and ordinary daily life.
And because we couldn’t leave, we were forced to pay attention in a way we might not otherwise have done.
Now, every time we see something different, we’re comparing it to Italy. And of course to home in Connecticut, too.
I find myself missing things about the United States while I’m in Italy, and now missing things about Italy while I’m traveling elsewhere in Europe.
I suppose that’s what happens when more than one place begins to feel like home.
This morning, we crossed into France near Basel.
Another border. Another country. Again, nothing. The border crossing was practically closed up. We just drove through.
We’re now making our way toward Bruges, Belgium, excited to explore another new place. The further we get from Italy, the more I find myself missing(?) it, at exactly the same time, the more excited I am to keep going.
It’s an odd combination of nostalgia, familiarity, curiosity, and anticipation.
Four months from now, we’ll be preparing to leave Italy for good and return to our life in Connecticut. I’m excited about that, too. But after these first few days away, I’m beginning to realize that returning home may feel just as strange as leaving Italy does now.
For the moment, though, we’re in France.
Koji is sleeping in the back seat, Daren is driving, and there’s a whole lot more of Europe ahead of us.
And I’m enjoying every bit of this strange feeling of missing where we’ve been while looking forward to where we’re going.





