I was a teenager living in a small hilltop village near Ancona, in the Marche region. Every morning, on my way to school, the bus would wind its way down through the hills until it reached the Adriatic coast and the city of Senigallia, where my hospitality school was.
From the bus stop we walked to class, and along the way my friends and I talked about whatever surrounded us. Sometimes, though, my thoughts drifted elsewhere. I imagined what it would be like to live in Senigallia—on flat land, close to the sea. I dreamed of a place where you could get around by bicycle, without burning fossil fuels, moving quietly through the world.
Pedalling in silence, reaching your destination with nothing but your own strength, felt to me a bit like sailing. Life seemed lighter that way, as if you could carry it in your pockets and in your heart. On a bicycle you can think, observe, and let the world pass gently around you, because your slowness disturbs no one.
Today I live in Ravenna—a city as flat as I once imagined, filled with bicycles, frames, and wheels that anyone can dream of riding toward their own horizons.
