Before leaving Bologna, we went to Decathlon together and one of the main purpose of going there was to buy a tent. So after a week of staying in Calabria, we left for our first camping trip, all the way up to Scalea, near Basilicata, the neighbouring region.

Why there? Because it was close to a place in the mountain called Orsomarso where we wanted to go rafting, and I saw a photo of Arcomagno on Instagram which looked very beautiful.

After 3 trains lasting over 4 hours or so, and a bus ride, we arrived in San Nicola Arcella, where we had to walk up and down the rock, in the afternoon heat, to this Arcomagno beach. It was hot, and the back was heavy, especially my beloved pink backpack Antonio was carrying which had like 4 litres of water and also a tent tied at the bottom.

He was cursing me inside, I knew it.


At last we arrived at the place and jumped straight into the water. To be honest, I much preferred the water at the beach in front of his house in Saline. It was much clearer and cleaner there, and less crowded obviously. But after being all hot and sweaty all day long, jumping into that water was the best thing we could ask for.

After the sunset, people started leaving, but we stayed. We stayed on a big long beach near the entrance of the cave. Full moon was a good natural light for us as the night creeped over the sky. We lay on a towel, watching the stars and snacking on taralli and toasted chickpeas.

Yes, toasted uncooked chickpeas.

There were only us on the beach, and it was amazing. We went skinny dipping at around midnight before coming back up to dry ourselves and called it a night.

It felt so liberating. That was my first time camping with anyone but my parents.




The next night, we slept next to a small river in Orsomarso, a cosy tiny village up the mountain. After rafting that morning, we found ourselves with 10 euros cash in for the day because the rafting place didn’t accept card. There was no ATM in Orsomarso, and only one shop that accepted card there.

We were dancing like children when the lady came and open that shop, almost half an hour later than the ‘opening time’. At least we knew we would not starve to death.

And Antonio went crazy. He bought like 3 different kinds of deli meat and cheese, beans, bread, tuna and stuff. Then we walked out of town to put our tent up before walking on the trail along fiume argentino.


The trail was lovely, and walking along the stream really reminded me of my dad. We walked and talked and stopped to pick berries or explore varieties of tree. There was a small medicinal garden in there, and they even had fern!

We headed back after the sunset and got a little terrified because of stray dog and a pair of animal eyes staring at us from the woods. Then as soon as we got into the tent, we ate.

That was probably the most memorable meal I had in the whole of Calabria, not because of the food but the experience itself, where I was and who I shared that meal, that hike, and that journey with.

I had never seen Antonio as a (stereo)typical Italian guy, let alone Southern Italian which somewhat would have an even stronger ‘Italian-ness’ (if that’s even a word) Originally from Calabria, he had, more or less, been brought up in Bologna and only spent a few years of high school in the region where his family was from.

Before leaving Bologna, I was told how traditional and conservative people in the village could be. It was seen as a norm to marry someone from the same village and such. I found it hard to believe, especially when I see him as this ultra open-minded person he was.


But what he said was true. Saline was a small village and it reminded me a little of my hometown in Thailand. Every knew each other and old people sat outside in front of their houses at night, talking. Big birthday celebrations, the importance of your family.

I wasn’t quite sure what I expected before I got there, but certainly not something as traditional as this. This place was like an authentic village, where locals and only locals lived, an mostly old people.

And I saw the other side of my boyfriend, something similar to who I would become when I go back home to my family.

In Bologna, he had it all in control; his place, his space, his kitchen, his life. He was a grown-man taking care of other people in the house.


Here in Saline, I saw him as a brother, as a son, as a grandson. He let his guard down, and he was more like when he was with me with other people around here too. His smile was sweeter, his laugh seemed happier, more genuine. He let other people take care of him, look after him. He would call his dad to check in when we went out hiking. He was more relaxed here, and I loved seeing that.

Though how conservative and religious people from there were surprised me a little. It would not have registered in my mind if he had not told me that by bringing a girl home, it would indicate that you two would be getting married. In that case, it’s expected that you bring her around ad introduce her to your whole extended family.

Otherwise no one would be really that interested in you. Well, you are not planning to get married and become a part of the family, so why bother?

Basically there were two types of relationship there, the one for fun and the one for life, nothing in-between. Although he did explained to his dad later what we were, and how I was important to him.

Learning about all these things, about where he grew up, about his background, his past, and a part of his childhood, it made me want to share mine with him too.

I had never thought I would be travelling with someone.

Travelling with my Couchsurfing friends was imaginable, but other than it had barely ever crossed my mind. How did I ended up travelling around Calabria with my boyfriend, that I wasn’t quite sure.

Well, maybe because he was originally from there. Even though Calabria had never entered into any of my travel plans, it was a good opportunity to discover this rather ‘untouched’ region (and considerably unknown to many people outside Italy.)

When mentioned that I would be going to Calabria to Italians, question marks appeared on their faces, like they wanted to ask, ‘Why are you going there?’ and to people outside Italy, even Europeans, often asked where Calabria was.

After the quick 1 night stop in Rome, our Blablacar driver picked us up on the hottest sunny afternoon, and off we went down South, on a 7-hour drive to the toe of Italy.

We drove through the mountains and along the sea, the landscape of this place already had my heart.

I drifted in and out of sleep, listening to Italian conversations between the two sisters from the neighbouring town and my boyfriend, Antonio. At some point that night, we entered a small village by the sea called Saline Joniche, the place where Antonio came from.

From then, it was more about the experience, not the place. Every experience was new to me.

After a light dinner, we went out for a walk along the main street and he recalled the atmosphere of this village when he was a child to me, how people moved out to find work and the place was slowly dying. I could sense the nostalgic feeling in his voice when he talked about the big fair on the street he used to go, or how lively a bar next to his house was.

The next two and a half weeks in Calabria were quite interesting for me. This trip was definitely much different than any other I have experienced. I didn’t feel like I have learned, seen or experienced much of Calabria, but instead I learned about myself as much as what it’s like to share this travel experience with someone else. I learned to compromise and I learned about silly habits I would like to get rid of. It really was the trip about my relationship I thought it would be at the beginning, only so much more about that than I expected it to be.

There were more sweet than bitter moments, but both were equally important and valued. We learned to deal which each other’s mood and habits. I learned to stop and compromise. We learned to talk and apologise.

I also learned a lot about myself and the way I overthink things. I was scared of making decision because I was afraid of the consequence. Since I didn’t travel by myself, it wasn’t just me who would bear the consequence of my decisions, and I didn’t want to feel responsible for his feelings. I was afraid to be blamed when something went wrong, and sometimes I didn’t want to say my crazy weird ideas out loud because I knew that he would be likely to let me choose what I want to do just for me to be happy. But I wanted him to make the choices he want too.

Although I also knew that seeing me happy was what made him happy as well.

This trip also thought me about the beauty of sharing all these new experiences with someone. Someone who was willing to be a part of my journey. At the end, what I would remember from this trip was more likely to be those moments we shared, rather than beautiful places. Like the two hours of sweaty walk uphill and the conversation about travelling we had, running our of cash while we were staying in a small village or having rustic dinner in our tent after a long walk along the river; our sunset, sunrise and midnight (skinny) dips in the sea or lying on the beach, gazing into the stars under the moonlight. The beaches I had been to in Sardinia were no doubts much more stunning than here, but there were no beautiful shared memories created on those beaches.

Unlike when I was in Puglia, it wasn’t Calabria that had left an impression on my, it was being in Calabria with Antonio that did.

This had truly become a journey of my relationship. Something that had crossed my mind before but never thought it would happen so early. Right here, right now.