IAD→MXP, One-way.

With that click of a red button, our Idea-turned-Plan entered the Go phase. Che emotivo comprare biglietti di solo andata. How emotional to buy one-way tickets. Washington to Milan, no return. Seismic sensations rippled through me like aftershocks. This tectonic shift is also why I’m waving arrivederci to SOMMniloquy and buongiorno to L’Avventura, a title that better befits this new adventure.

We can bask in romantic notions of what’s in store later – €1.30 cappuccino, life without a car, yoga pants worn only in yoga class. First, those freak-out questions:

Um, but what about the five children?
And how about Barboursville Vineyards?
Will you have a job?
Are you selling your house?
Where will you live?

During our Covid-era quest for citizenship, the family acclimated to an uptick in life-abroad musings. At first, it was all low-stakes daydreaming, like when lottery jackpots swell to absurdity and chitchat turns to, “What color yacht would you get?” Quite different to put meat on that bone and entertain real possibilities, especially when they don’t fit everyone else’s vision board. My weekly Italian lessons and monthly pasta-making were non-threatening to the status quo. Me fawning aloud over faraway apartments and blurting what-ifs to dinner guests, though, sent my daughter to her room in silent tears. What a lump-in-the-throat moment when I realized how my pursuits were hail-storming said daughter’s sunny aspirations. Here I am pining to pull the rip-cord in July and all she wants is daddy’s help hanging posters in the freshman dorm come August. We’re addressing these thorny matters now. There’s grief to process when a shared life is diverging.

Our children were 6, 5, 4, and 2 when my wife and I got together. They’re 22, 21, 20, and 18 now (plus the 11-yr-old). Over time, the rough seam between our Brady Bunch smoothed to imperceptibility. For years, the greatest compliment anyone could give to us as a blended family was noting that they couldn't tell which kids were mine and which were hers. (I wrote about the nuances of this once.) Oh, but how that weld fractured when citizenship came to pass.

Jure sanguinis is Latin for "right of blood." It’s the principle behind Italy’s law allowing people like me to claim citizenship via ancestry. We’re a family of seven, but I could only earn four passports. My three biological children and I got our bloodline citizenship while the love of my life and her two kids were marooned on the wrong side of Club Italia’s velvet ropes. My wife will earn her cittadinanza after jumping through some pretty serious hoops, but, for my stepchildren, no promise of gelato cioccolato later can sweeten the foul taste of segregation now. We’re navigating the fine-print of VISA options and long-term solutions. Mending our fissures before we depart is daily work that we meet with chutzpah and hopefulness.

Getting the family on-board with our decision took a year. My parents first heard it second-hand at a party (oof, my bad) and that led to the silent treatment for a month. Thankfully, once the hurt passed, they saw our dream as an invitation to realize their own. They put their Virginia house on the market and, as so many Jersey-bred grandparents do, moved to Florida.

Given the gravity of family issues, everything else feels light. Housing? All signs continue to point to the city of Verona in northern Italy’s Veneto region. I’ll get into why in subsequent posts. After multiple visits, we’ve even narrowed our choice of neighborhoods, but we likely won’t have a landing place until we’re actually there. It’s the kind of busy big little city where you find an apartment not with an agent, but by spotting a handwritten sign taped to the door just yesterday.

A tale of two rivers: from Richmond’s mighty James to Verona’s fiume dell’amore (river of love), the Adige. Here’s how Google Earth renders where we are and where we’re headed….

Job? For two decades plus, between my roles as writer, sommelier, photojournalist, ambassador, and emcee, I’ve enjoyed steady work, including arguably the best wine gig on the East Coast. As National Brand Director & Chief Sommelier at Barboursville Vineyards, I held keys to the cellar and manned a forward post promoting the rise of Virginia as a world-class region. In 2023, Wine Enthusiast named Charlottesville, VA Wine Region of the Year and Barboursville was a finalist for American Winery of the Year. That same season, I gave the Estate a proper two years’ notice. I’ll leave them in excellent shape and walk away proud of my contributions.

Barboursville’s founder – Casa Vinicola Zonin – is the largest family-owned wine company in Italy. I met with top brass in September 2024 at headquarters in Gambellara just outside Vicenza for mio colloquio, my interview. In a bespoke suit and Borsalino hat, I chummed it up in Italian with the CEO, Vice President, and HR Director before switching into English to talk turkey. By the end, these truths emerged:

It’s the practical choice to stick with Zonin, but my heart’s not there.
The Zonin company adores me, but they don’t have a role for me.
I have the skills to engage with any Italian lifestyle company.

From 2002, when I published my first book and moved to Virginia, to now, I’ve known where my paychecks are coming from. Beginning this summer, and for the first time since Dawson’s Creek and Buffy the Vampire Slayer went off the air, I am a free agent. Letting go of one trapeze without another to grab can be terrifying. At present, whether because I’m a Sagittarius or an optimistic fool, it’s absolutely liberating.

How many times in life do we have an opportunity to change everything on our own terms? Great-granddaddy Angelo did it in 1904 at age sixteen with eleven dollars in his pocket. Naples→New York, One-way. His trip took 16 days. Ours from Washington→Milan will take 11-ish hours. He left to find work and a better life. I’m leaving to expand my world and reconnect ancestral lines severed a century ago. Boldness is built into the Tesauro DNA. I believe this.

With 165 days to go, my mission is now to make a gentle transition as I disentangle myself/stuff physically and prepare my family/circle emotionally. Oh, and along the way, find new digs, land a gig, and identify some grown-ups who might want to rent our home.

Che strano. How strange. It’s dawning on me that those words on the family crest aren’t ornaments … they’re instructions.

HOC ITER EST SUPERI COGNITIONE IN VIRO
This journey is of the divine understanding in man
PARIT PATIENTIA PALMAS
Patience produces victory

I hope you’ll stick around for the adventure.