Imagine you’re doomscrolling X at 2 a.m., and you stumble across a post about buying a house in Italy for €1. One. Single. Euro. It’s the kind of thing that sounds like a TikTok scam or a fever dream from binge-watching too many HGTV shows. But it’s real—well, sort of real.
My partner and I, deep in our quest to find the perfect European home while trying to live our healthiest lives, decided to see if this was legit. Spoiler: it’s a wild ride, and it led us to a story way bigger than a bargain house.
We ended up in a tiny Sicilian village, the kind of place that looks like it was designed for an Instagram aesthetic board—cobblestone alleys, weathered stone houses, and views that make you want to yeet your 9-to-5 and become a poet. We rented a cozy townhouse in a neighborhood dripping with old-world charm, but it was weirdly quiet. Like, ghost-town quiet.
Why isn’t this place buzzing like some trendy coastal town back in the States?
The answer was a gut punch: jobs. Or the lack thereof. Young folks are bailing for big cities, leaving behind empty homes that just sit there, aging like fine wine but without the charm of a Napa vineyard. To fix this, Italy’s government cooked up a bold plan: sell these houses for €1. Yup, one euro. But before you start Googling “how to move to Italy,” there’s a massive catch.
To get the real tea, we met up with Anna and Marco, a couple we connected with through a mutual friend in a digital nomad Slack group. They’re the kind of people who make you feel like you’re not living adventurously enough—think The Alchemist meets a Wes Anderson movie, but with a toddler named Sofia in tow. They’ve been blogging about their journey on Chasing Slow, documenting their pivot from globe-trotting to putting down roots in Sicily. When we pulled up to their 1,000-year-old townhouse (no big deal), we were hyped to hear about their €1 house experience. Except… they didn’t buy a €1 house. And they hit us with a plot twist: their place was actually cheaper.
Hold up, how?
Anna and Marco laid it out. The €1 house deal sounds like a steal, but it’s basically a Cyber Monday deal with a novel’s worth of fine print. You’re on the hook to:
- Renovate the place within four years.
- Submit a reno plan that the local government has to greenlight.
- Actually move to the town full-time (no AirBnB side hustle allowed).
Also, most of these €1 houses are straight-up ruins. Like, no roof, no floors, just a vibe and a dream. Renovations can cost €100,000 or more. But if you go private and skip the government program, you can snag a fixer-upper for €2,000 to €10,000—better shape, no hoops to jump through. Anna and Marco went this route, doing some light TLC on a house that was already in decent condition.
“So, is the €1 house too good to be true?” I asked, bracing for a diplomatic dodge. “Totally,” they said, cracking up. “Way too good.”
The Real Dream: Olive Groves and Ocean Views
Here’s where it gets good. That stunning townhouse? It’s not even Anna and Marco’s forever plan. Their real dream is a sprawling olive grove with a sea view, the kind of place you’d see in a rom-com starring Florence Pugh. After scouring Italy, they found it in Sicily: 1.5 hectares (about 4 acres) of land, covered in ancient olive trees and the ruins of an old building they’ll eventually turn into their dream home.
We tagged along to check out the land, and holy wow, it was gorgeous. The kind of spot where you’d film a “morning routine as a writer” Reel and rack up likes. Olive trees swaying, the sea glittering like it’s been FaceTuned, pure serenity. They’re learning to farm it, soaking up wisdom from local elders who’ve been working the land since dial-up was cutting-edge.
“You guys know how to farm?” I asked, half-teasing. “Nope,” Marco grinned. “But we’re figuring it out. You don’t need a PhD to start—just the guts to learn as you go.”
That hit me. In a culture obsessed with “10x-ing” your life and instant expertise, there’s something dope about people who embrace the messy, slow process of learning.
The Plot Twist: A Brush with Death
Then things got heavy. Like, TherapyTok heavy. Anna and Marco opened up about a moment that flipped their world upside down: in October 2022, when Sofia was just seven months old, Marco had three strokes. One night, he woke up whispering, “Help, help…” before collapsing. His heart stopped. He wasn’t breathing. They were in a remote mountain village, miles from a hospital. Anna, who’d taken a CPR course back in the day, kept him alive, following instructions from Italy’s 118 emergency line until help showed up.
Marco pulled through, but the recovery was brutal. He was paralyzed on his left side, lost motor skills, and had to relearn how to walk and use his hand. Part of his brain was damaged from oxygen loss. “It changed how we see everything,” Anna said, her voice steady but raw. “Money, houses, clout—none of it means anything if you’re not healthy. When you can’t move, can’t talk, can’t be with the people you love, you’re just… stuck.”
That trauma stuck with them. Their old home in Piedmont became a constant reminder of that night, so they packed up and moved to Sicily, chasing a clean slate.
Healing in the Olive Grove
That olive grove isn’t just a pretty plot of land—it’s their safe haven. Some of those olive trees are over 1,000 years old, and Anna says they feel almost sacred. “Being there recharges us,” she told me. “It’s like free therapy for your mental health. A place to log off and just exist.”
We spent the afternoon with them, munching on blood oranges (officially my new obsession) and digging into homemade Sicilian food from their neighbors—arancini and pasta that hit harder than a SZA track. We talked about their plans, their kid, and how they’re crafting a life that’s intentional, not just Insta-worthy.
What I’m Taking Home
Hanging with Anna and Marco was like holding up a mirror to my own life. I’ve been chasing this fantasy of the “perfect” property—Portugal, Sweden, now Italy—thinking it’d somehow complete me. But their story made me hit pause. A €1 house or a dreamy olive grove isn’t the goal. It’s about health, connection, and building a life that feels as good as it looks on your X profile.
For now, we’re shelving the property hunt. 2025’s got me focused on balance—less grind, more grounding. We’re planning some chill adventures, trying stuff we might love or totally flop at. Maybe I’ll finally launch that newsletter I’ve been overthinking since Substack was the hot new thing. Who knows?
What I do know: life’s too short to chase a deal or a dream that doesn’t make space for what really matters. Thanks, Anna and Marco, for the reality check.
