PRACTICING WHAT I PREACH

Selfie by Positano marina

It’s taken me a few days to get this written partly because I spent the first two back at home feeling crappy (great timing, thanks body), and partly because I just needed a minute to actually take a moment after Italy.

If you read my last blog, Solo in Sorrento, you’ll know I finally ticked off something that had been sat on my list for years: a solo trip to Italy. That one was about proving to myself I could actually do it.

This one’s more about what’s stuck with me since I got home: the bits that made me stop and think, the little lessons I didn’t know I needed, and yes, the mishaps (like my rings managing to leave Italy before I did).

Because stepping out of your comfort zone doesn’t just change how you feel when you’re away. It changes how things look when you’re back, too.


Normally, I’m a planner. Lists, schedules, backup plans. But this time, I told myself I’d just get to Sorrento and see what happened.

The only thing I did know? It was going to absolutely pour down on day two. So I booked a cooking class up in the hills at Chez Barone. And thank goodness I did, because that morning the heavens opened. Proper thunderstorm. The roads turned into rivers, drain covers were lifting, cars sliding everywhere. I took a call from back home and was told the storm, “sounds biblical.” They weren’t wrong.

But here’s the funny thing, I loved it. I’ve always found storms relaxing, and there I was in my favourite country, listening to the loud bangs. Perfect. The cooking class ended up being one of the highlights. Good food, good wine, good company, and the comfort of being tucked away while nature did its thing outside.

That set the tone for the week: expect the unexpected.


The rest of the trip was a mix of chaos, beauty, and those little emotional gut-punches you don’t always see coming. The Amalfi bus (where queues were more of a suggestion than a rule). The Anacapri chairlift has amazing views, but a little scary to know you are not actually held in. Pompeii, still one of the most interesting places to visit, I still cannot get over the paintings on the walls that have been preserved for all these years. 

But the moment that really stuck came in Positano. After wandering the steep, winding streets and spending a few lazy hours at a beach club, I checked in on the boys. Elliott had scored at football, a big deal for him after a tricky season of change. I was gutted not to be there, and mum guilt hit me like a wave. But behind the tears was pride. Pride in how brave he’s been and hope this was the start of a boost he really needed.

And then, of course, the selfie. I am rubbish at them. Turns out I don’t really like smiling when I’m on my own (I’m not a massive fan of smiling in photos, I think I look weird I prefer the non smiles but then can look moody) . But the photo I’m sharing was taken sitting on the floor of the marina in Positano, waiting for a ferry. Not glamorous, but real. And I kind of love that about it.


Being away taught me loads about myself,  but it also reminded me of what I’m always saying to clients. At home, I’m in organiser mode. Keeping the show on the road, juggling work, kids, life. Everything has to run to time, because if one thing slips, it all unravels. Italy was the opposite. Queues that went nowhere, ferries that turned up when they felt like it. And do you know what? It felt… freeing.

That’s financial planning, too. You need a plan, sure. But you also need wriggle room. Plan A, Plan B, Plan C. Because life will throw curveballs,  it always does. The goal isn’t to micro-manage every detail. It’s to know you’re heading in the right direction, and you’ll get there, even if the route changes along the way.


The boys have already made me promise to take them with me next time, and honestly, I can’t wait. Seeing Italy through their eyes will be amazing. But this trip was about me. About pressing pause, doing something I’d always wanted, and proving to myself I could. Travelling to Italy reminded me that stepping away from what’s familiar can change everything. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is give yourself permission to grow.

And on a lighter note; yes, I did manage to leave my rings at the hotel when I checked out. Thankfully, they emailed straight away to say they’d found them and sorted a courier. I’m pretty sure my rings actually left Italy before I did (thank you, delayed flight), but I’m just relieved they’re safely on their way back.

If nothing else, I came home with a selfie that proves I was really there,  even if smiling solo still feels a bit awkward.