My Second Home: Tocco Da Casauria

Growing up, Tocco Da Casauria was never just a random place in the non-touristy region of Abruzzo. It was the town where both my mum and dad were born, where generations of my family built their lives, and where many of the stories I heard growing up began.

I've always felt connected to my heritage, but there's something different about walking the streets where your parents once played, or bumping into people who somehow know who you are before you've even met them, simply because of your family name. It makes you realise that part of your story started long before you did.

When Jay and I decided to take the opportunity to purchase my family's home, it wasn't a financial decision. It was an emotional one.

The house itself isn't some glamorous villa overlooking the countryside. In fact, it's exactly what you'd expect from a home that has stood for generations in a small Italian mountain town. It has character, history and the kind of imperfections that tell a story. We've completed a few thoughtful renovations to make it a little more comfortable for modern life, but the charm that made us fall in love with it remains untouched.

Walking through the front door for the first time as its custodians, rather than just visitors, is a moment I'll never forget. It felt surreal knowing that this wasn't simply somewhere we were staying anymore. It had become our responsibility to care for a small piece of our family's history.

None of it would have been possible without the incredible generosity of my Zia and Zio, who entrusted us with the home, or my cousins, who worked tirelessly on our behalf. From painting and organising deliveries to helping with countless jobs while we were on the other side of the world, they poured so much love into the house before we ever arrived. We'll always be grateful for everything they did.

When we first bought the house, I dreamed about bringing Jay and our twin girls to experience the town that means so much to our family. Since then, we've been lucky enough to do exactly that not once, but twice.

Watching my daughters run through the same piazzas, eat gelato with our neighbours' two beautiful girls, explore the narrow streets and slowly fall in love with the place their Nonno and Nonna once called home has been incredibly moving. They may have been born in Australia, but they're creating memories in Italy that I hope they'll carry with them for the rest of their lives.

I also can't go any further without acknowledging our incredible neighbours. From the moment we arrived, they welcomed us as though we'd never been away. Seeing our two girls form such a beautiful friendship with their daughters has been one of the most unexpected joys of owning this home, and we can't wait to watch those friendships grow over the years.

Tocco Da Casauria is a place where I've never truly felt like a tourist. The moment we drive past the sign that reads "Tocco Da Casauria", something changes. It's almost like muscle memory takes over. The streets feel strangely familiar, as though I'm walking through memories that somehow belong to me, even though they were lived by the generations before me.

When we're there, life slows down. We buy fresh bread from the local bakery, chat with neighbours, spend long evenings in the piazza and embrace the rhythm of everyday life. It's a reminder that some of life's richest moments happen when you stop rushing.

That's become one of the greatest gifts this little home has given us. It reconnects us not only with our family history, but with a way of living that's centred around people, community and appreciating the simple things.

I often think about what this house will mean years from now. Hopefully it becomes a place our girls return to with friends, partners and, one day, families of their own. A place that keeps our Italian heritage alive for generations to come.

Because, in the end, we didn't just buy a house.

We found a way to keep our family's story going.