People love the fantasy of retiring abroad: two people strolling through narrow streets, coffee cups clinking on a sunlit table, life finally slowing down to the rhythm they always wanted. And yes, some parts of that are real. But the thing no glossy article says — the thing I’ve started thinking about more and more when I talk to couples planning their move to Italy — is that a relocation this big doesn’t magically strengthen a marriage. It magnifies it. When you remove the

I thought I knew Italy from summers, Rome, and traveling the country—then these books showed me whole new sides: the chaos, the humor, the real daily life most of us never see. They made Italy feel bigger, more human, and—without meaning to—turned my “someday” into an actual plan.

Retiring in Italy is more than visas and logistics. This piece explores the deeper truth of aging abroad, what happens when life takes an unexpected turn, and how to build a community that actually holds you when you need it.

And why it became the next chapter in my interactive guide series, Veni. Vidi. Vici. There are parts of Italy that hit you over the head with their beauty. Tuscany insists. The Dolomites don’t ask for permission. Liguria throws cliffs and pesto at you and hopes you can keep up. Puglia works differently. It’s patient. It stays on the periphery until you realize it’s been quietly rearranging your thoughts about what life could look like. My introduction wasn’t glamorous. I ende

You’re not just retiring abroad — you’re exiting a financial system that’s being reshaped in real time by tariffs, currency shocks, and political volatility. The 4% rule wasn’t built for this world. Pretending it still works isn’t optimism — it’s negligence.