It’s not easy to explain why one chooses to live in the provinces without sounding sentimental or exposing too much personal detail. It’s always simpler to explain how rather than why I work across Italy (and sometimes beyond) while proudly living in Belluno.
To be honest, this is the first time I’m putting these thoughts into words. I owe thanks to the amazing Michele Sacchet, who not only launched this challenge but also helped me find the home I dreamed of here in Belluno — a house in the mountains, from whose balcony I now write, looking out at Nevegal.
To make it short: I’m a journalist. I mostly deal with health, healthcare, and the environment. That’s what I say when I want to keep it brief, which is often, because explaining what I do isn’t easy. When I say I’m a journalist, people picture a bohemian reporter chasing news, scribbling on wrinkled notepads and writing late into the night. The common reaction is: “Wait, how do you do that from Belluno?”
The truth is: my job looks very different. I’m a freelancer who writes for both scientific and non-scientific publications (mostly online), and I also provide press office services, manage social media, and consult on communication projects in the health sector — for both public entities (like health authorities, scientific congresses, university projects) and private ones (publishing houses, communication agencies).
Though I’ve always been based in Longarone and now Belluno, I’ve never worked with local clients. Not yet, at least. I collaborate with outlets in Milan, Rome, Trieste, Perugia, Turin, Venice, Pisa… and the same applies to most of the projects I take on.
The point is this: remote work is possible. Thanks to the internet, we have free platforms like Slack, which let us collaborate with colleagues all over Italy or the world. Skype allows face-to-face calls with anyone, anywhere. Google Drive and Dropbox let us co-edit documents in real time. And the web gives us access to databases, files, and resources as if we were in a city office.
And when in-person presence is needed? That’s what trains and planes are for. Personally, I chose a quiet, green home within walking distance of the train station, since I travel often.
Of course, not every profession lends itself to this mode of working, but many so-called “intellectual” jobs now do. And I believe — this is the core of what I want to share — that this shift can benefit our personal well-being and rural living, and can help spread a culture of counter-urbanization, a freedom from the compulsion to move to cities.
Forgive the long preamble about what I do, but it gives needed context. And forgive me if this gets even more personal. For me, the “how” and the “why” go hand in hand. Since I started working, I’ve tried to shape my idea of work around a life I truly want. I like nature, calm, and places that aren’t crowded. I like having plants and flowers around me, and I like being able to say “no” so I can spend time doing what truly matters to me.
I don’t like traffic or skyscrapers. I don’t like people who think they’re “living in the world” just because they’re surrounded by others. I grew up in green Longarone. That’s my beginning and my destination.
Just yesterday I finished reading The Eight Mountains by Paolo Cognetti. Beautiful. I had tears in my eyes at several passages. One made me smile: “They didn’t really choose it – he said. If someone goes to live up high, it’s because they can’t find peace down low.”
“And who’s down low?” “Bosses. Armies. Priests. Department heads. Depends.”
For me, living here is therapeutic. My job requires constant connection — often online, interacting with people non-stop, especially on social media where shouting often replaces conversation. Sometimes I feel I see the worst of us.
Let’s talk about solitude. I used it in the title. I won’t add much to what Fabrizio De André once said while introducing his album Anime Salve (“Saved Souls”):
“Anime salve means solitary spirits. It’s a kind of praise of solitude. Not everyone can afford it: the elderly can’t, the sick can’t, nor can politicians — a solitary politician is usually doomed. But when one can be alone, I believe it’s easier to connect with the surrounding world. And that world includes everything: from a leaf sprouting in a field at night to the stars.”
And so, that’s enough personal prelude. Let’s get political.
Rethinking work is essential if we want to stay balanced between who we are and who we want to become. Today we’re living in a contradiction: cities are promoted as “resilient” hubs (as per UN and government policies), while at the same time we long for green spaces, air, and silence.
In smaller towns, rent is cheaper. A 30-year-old can afford a home and live independently. Transport is easier, especially in terms of time. The air is better (at least here in Belluno, it is).
Sure, there aren’t 27 cinemas or 10 judo schools. But as Miss Marple said: “In the end, life is essentially the same everywhere, in the things that matter.”
Meanwhile, urban dwellers flee every weekend to find solitude — clogging our local roads (two Sundays ago, 33,000 cars were counted on the SS51!). People, as a friend says, “pass through places like zombies.”
We haven’t truly grasped the difference between necessary and unnecessary. We keep pushing the wheel that chases us as we run from it.
In the end, I couldn’t separate personal from social. But as feminists say: “the personal is political.” Our personal choices are inherently political. They shape our communities. What we choose for ourselves matters to others.
Coming back to Michele’s original question: I believe the internet lets us live rurally while engaging globally. Contamination is good, if we don’t lose our genius loci. Let’s not turn into animals building gray cubicles filled with identical office plants.
What gives me hope in Belluno is that something is moving. My generation (born in the ’80s and ’90s) is doing things. I see vibrant digital agencies rooted in the territory, a creative coworking space in the center, and the incredible Dolomiti Contemporanee project. This is what we call hyperlocal.
These are signs of evolution. Proof that there is an alternative to the tired duality: “If I want more, I must leave / If I stay, I must give up what I could have.”
I’ll end on a broader note. I agree with Noam Chomsky: the digital age offers fertile ground for a new libertarian ethic, where technology supports autonomy and helps us break free from the idea that to live fully, we must live in cities.
It’s not about dystopia or utopia. It’s about recognizing the coexistence of conflicting forces in our time. If we reflect on contradiction and tension, we might just move toward something freer, truer, and more human.
Cristina Da Rold
[Note: I was born in Belluno, but moved away at 18 for university – Venice, Florence, Trieste – and returned at 25 after finishing my master’s degree and opening my VAT number.]