by Ralph Muncaster
It’s the week after Easter in San Vincenzo, and the town awakens like a bouquet of spring wildflowers— fresh, vibrant, and filled with promise.
Shops and restaurants swing open their doors, the scent of espresso and sea air drifting onto the worn, stoned streets. Like nature’s own love song, a new season of life begins, and with it comes the joyful return of travelers from across the world. They arrive with curiosity and wonder, blending effortlessly with locals and annual visitors alike, gathering along the Corso or basking on sun-dappled beaches.
Here, strangers become friends over glasses of spritz and platters of seafood, the sounds of local music floating gently on the salt-kissed breeze. The Mediterranean, painted in deep sapphire and aquamarine, stretches out like a dream. As the waves whisper against the shore—a soothing, rhythmic lullaby—you might find yourself wondering about Napoleon’s days on nearby Elba, or picturing Etruscan footsteps echoing through the hills. Or maybe, you’ll just delight in the joy of people-watching in this everunfolding theater of life.
In San Vincenzo, every spring brings rebirth, reflection, and surprise. And it never loses its magic.
Three years ago, my wife (in her 60s) and I (in my 70s) made a bold decision. We left behind our home in the San Diego area, speaking no Italian and knowing no one here besides our real estate agents. We purchased a half-built home in San Vincenzo, returned to the U.S. to sell our house and belongings, and began the complicated process of shipping furniture and arranging our move. Though we were in the process of visa assurances, the leap was daunting—would we be able to manage the language? Make friends? Navigate healthcare, taxes, transportation? Would we fit into the Italian way of life?
Now, three years in, we’ve found our answers—and more.
San Vincenzo feels like it was made for us. Life flows in two distinct seasons: summer and winter. Summer here is a celebration—lively, colorful, and absolutely electric! The town swells to about 50,000 people, and the Corso becomes a canvas of human joy: families strolling beneath twinkling lights, street performers playing for applause, laughter and clinking glasses at every café.
Children play, the sunsets dazzle, and the beaches—stretching 20 kilometers, with half of them bordered by a protected nature reserve—offer something for every mood. And best of all, there’s no overwhelming commercialism—just genuine charm.
Winter, on the other hand, is quiet, intimate, and deeply fulfilling in its own way. The town settles to around 7,000 residents, many of whom we’ve come to know personally. Life slows to a lovely hum, full of cozy evenings and warm connections. We lack for nothing—with nearby towns just a short train or taxi ride away—and winter evenings often find us at Casotto Pub, enjoying its familiar, cheerful welcome.
When we arrived, the idea of making friends without speaking the language felt improbable. But the reality has been beautiful. As I shared in an earlier piece about my 73rd birthday party, we hosted 48 people—most of them half my age, most with limited English—and the celebration lasted over five hours! That kind of open-hearted camaraderie just doesn’t happen everywhere. Here, we’re not outsiders. We’re neighbors.
Learning Italian hasn’t come easily for me, but I now get by. My wife, with her involvement in choir and community events, is almost fluent. We’ve found the Pimsleur app helpful, though it’s no substitute for regular conversation. Immersion is key.
One of the few real challenges has been getting a driver’s license. For Americans, unlike EU residents, there’s no simple transfer. Once the international permit expires, the test must be taken in Italian (or French/German). I spent three months taking over 500 practice quizzes before confidently passing virtually all. But I did it! I highly recommend Autoscuola Marradi in Livorno—they made it manageable.
Italy’s medical system has exceeded every expectation. We initially chose private insurance (very affordable), and the care has been excellent. Prescription medication costs are a fraction of U.S. prices.
Dentistry, too, is first-class. Both my wife and I have had stellar experiences. The team at Studio Dentistico Buoncristiani of San Vincenzo uses cutting-edge technology and delivers outstanding care.
Most of what we need is within walking distance. For rainy days or extensive shopping, we each have a compact electric car—quick-charging, efficient, and easy to maintain. For longer journeys, the train is effortless. Occasionally we take taxis, which are far more economical than owning a traditional gaspowered car given our limited needs.
Just a few for now (I’ll share more later):
• Casotto Pub – Pure fun with fantastic meats and a lively team. Say hi to Stefano and Andrea!
• Zanzibar – Seafood at its finest. The scallops (when available) are heavenly, and the crème brûlée is unforgettable. Be sure to greet Marco!
• Laspicia Gallery Fashion & Food – A fun, outside spot on the Corso, with great pasta with spinach, mussels and pasta, and many great pizza choices. Miki and Riki will welcome you like family—we have eaten there many times since arriving!
• Ristorante Lupo Càntero – Lobster spaghetti and tender mussels are my favorites; and there is frequent entertainment. Don’t miss Riccardo and Vittorio!
Almost every night, my wife and I look at each other in quiet amazement. How lucky we are to be here, in this home, in this town, in this life. Some evenings, we sit on our veranda with aperitivi in hand, watching the sun melt into the Mediterranean, or gazing out over the olive-speckled Tuscan hills. We often host friends—especially in the summer—and this house has become more than a home. It’s a gathering place for joy.
We’re forever grateful to Antonio and Mary of Nama Real Estate, not just for helping us find this perfect home, but for becoming some of our dearest friends. We share laughter, stories, and many glasses of wine together.
Thank you again, Antonio and Mary.
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