From attending a ball to moving to Italy in four months

Published in its original version in JAUNS OK magazine, November 2025 issue.

This year (the article was written in 2025), I was living in Riga in May, and by September – already in Turin. And no, this has nothing to do with some romantic fling. Unless we’re talking about burrata and olive trees.

But really, it all started back in that distant second Covid winter, when I simply couldn’t take everything that was going on in Latvia anymore and quite literally escaped to spend the winter in Sicily (just a reminder – we’re talking about winter 2021). That’s where the conviction – and the desire – to one day move to Italy was born. Because, let’s be honest, warm weather is much kinder to aging bones…

At the time, though, I returned to Latvia in mid-January – my partner, my mum, my son, and two cats were waiting for me in Riga, and life quickly pulled me back into its everyday whirlwind. Still, somewhere deep down, that quiet thought about “the Italy factor” never really went away (needless to say, the following Latvian winter felt physically unbearable).

And so I continued traveling to Italy several times a year – and specifically to Sicily in the autumn. But this spring, while I was at Lake Garda, a message lit up on my phone:

“Hey, I see we’re both battling the Italian owl (Duolingo)!? I mostly live and work in the south of Italy… Do you also have an Italy plan, or are you just learning the language?”

Zanda. We had met and gotten to know each other backstage at a fashion event.

The very next day, I had bought a one-way ticket to Bari for early May. And not just to go enjoy everything Puglia has to offer – but for a BALL. A real ball, with a black tie dress code. My heart was honestly singing, because how often in Latvia do you actually get to wear an evening gown without feeling overdressed against a sea of jeans and sweaters – even at opera premieres?

Call it manifestation, the power of thought, or fate – but I still remember that feeling when I was scrolling through Zanda’s Instagram and thinking to myself: one day, I’d love to be at that ball.

A little bit of action starts already with the first flight – the departure is delayed by almost an hour, and this time, very unlike me, I’ve booked both flights with just an hour and a half in between (a gentle reminder: don’t do this…). Luckily, the Ryanair cabin crew are kind and helpful – before landing, they move me to one of the front rows, and since there’s no need to re-check in at Vienna International Airport, I basically shoot out of the plane like an arrow 8 minutes before boarding closes for my next flight. And by pure luck, my Bari gate turns out to be right next door (a small detail – both flights, being with a low-cost airline, are operated via those attachable boarding bridges).

Still, there was a bit of stress, because I really wanted to make it there today. And this is also a reminder of how, back in spring 2020, when all flights to/from Riga were suspended for a month, Wizz Air never resumed its direct route to Bari (and due to Riga Airport costs, has currently closed other routes as well).

It’s the first days of May, but as I step out of the plane in Bari, I’m greeted by warm, soft southern air. The airport is small – a few steps and I’m already outside. Waiting for me is a cheerful, smiling crew: Zanda, her daughter Madara, and Madara’s boyfriend Michelangelo, aka Miks – and of course, the holy bubbles of prosecco!

Straight from the airport, we’re all taken to lunch by the sea. Between the sun, the warmth, and the laughter, I already feel so good that I could just stay here forever.

A little side note – I landed in Bari on May 7, and on the evening of September 4, a bus filled with my most beloved belongings, me, and my cat rolled into the town of Turi. Hello, Puglia!

Then began the most complicated – and slightly stressful – process (or, how to let go of half a lifetime in three months). I had to sell most of my furniture, paintings, clothes, and everything else you inevitably accumulate while living in a 110-square-meter apartment – rented, by the way. This time, I also seriously tackled the family library, which I had carefully carried with me from apartment to apartment over the years, keeping only those books I truly couldn’t imagine living without.

All summer long, while all of this was unfolding, I felt such a deep sense of calm and certainty within myself – it actually surprised me. It felt like I had chosen the path that was meant for me, the one life itself had been very clearly nudging me toward over the past six months. And so I acted with this quiet confidence that everything would somehow fall into place – as my friends’ kids like to say.

And no, I didn’t move with savings or a safety cushion. What has always guided me is the belief that the moment we truly choose a path or a goal – and feel it deeply, with our whole heart – the ways and means to make it happen somehow appear.

Yes, I had been thinking about and wanting to live in Italy since the winter of 2021, but I was so deeply attached to our apartment on Miera Street that it was, in a way, holding me back. This April, coming back from Lake Garda, driving through the night streets toward home, a thought suddenly landed in my head: this (everything around me) is not about me.

I came home, sat down in our beautiful white apartment – the one I had built from scratch – and realized that what I actually needed was Mona, my white cat (she came into my life thanks to Zanda Paeglīte’s care for animals and her initiative Zanimal Hope), and that’s it.

I let go of the apartment.

And that was the moment when everything else fell into place at lightning speed.

But back to the events that gave me that powerful push – not just to want, but to actually dare and change my life. Those eight days in Puglia in May felt like stepping into a film. And the director had clearly planned a grand script. Needless to say, I fully surrendered to my role – wholeheartedly and with pleasure.

May in Puglia is vibrant, colorful, overflowing with flowers and the scent of blooming spring. Bougainvillea and oleanders delight the eyes, poppies and wildflowers bloom beneath olive groves, Sicilian jasmine fills the air with its intoxicating fragrance, and the fields between the olive trees and the coastline quite literally explode in blossoms.

A small irony is that while I do eat fish, I don’t eat seafood like shrimp, octopus, and the rest – and moving to a region where all of that is so present and constantly on the table is… well, kind of funny, right? But never say never – maybe in a few years…

Thank God there are also amazing grilled dishes here, and honestly, even popping by your local butcher feels like a trip to a foodie sanctuary.

The ball. Venusio Gala Ball 2025.

The ball was something truly wonderful – gentlemen in tuxedos, ladies in evening gowns. A four-part musical experience: during the reception and cocktails, a jazz trio played music from the 1930s; after a light dinner, served by waiters in white gloves, came a round of waltzes accompanied by live music.

After the waltzes, the evening moved into the castle courtyard, where various delicacies were being grilled, and Italian folk dances took over, with Gruppo Folk 2000 (a great way to gently shake off the dinner pasta). And finally, for those whose energy hadn’t yet run out – a DJ in one of the basement halls (I didn’t quite make it that far this year, but it’s firmly on next year’s list).

My warmest thanks to the hosts of the ball, Michelangelo and Madara – they had put so much energy and creativity into making sure every guest (and there were quite a few, around 60–70 people) truly enjoyed the evening!

From thoughtfully curated entertainment to exquisitely delicious dinner, to the chance to enjoy beautiful musical performances – in short, it was all done in the true spirit of Italian celebration!

They had also put together a fantastic program for their international guests – because the ball brought together not only locals, but also Miks’ friends from his Oxford days, flying in from Portugal, England, Canada, and Azerbaijan.

The evening before the ball, there was a dinner (as they jokingly called it) for the international guests – essentially a friends’ meet-and-greet – held in one of the castle halls. And of course, a quick waltz rehearsal before the big night.

In the days after the ball, we enjoyed wine at Bufano Sirose Wine gardens in the charming little town of Locorotondo, seafood in Monopoli, cocktails in Polignano a Mare, and some of the best grilled dishes at La Tradizione – Fornello Pugliese, located in Sammichele di Bari.

During my stay, I also managed to visit the local market, which takes place on Fridays in the main parking square – and you can find everything there, from underwear to food. I tasted insanely delicious strawberries (1 EUR for a box – and not a small one) and juicy apricots (around 5 EUR per kilo). And just like that, almost without noticing, eight days had flown by, and it was time to pack my suitcase for the return trip – something I really didn’t want to do.

By the end of the trip, I had made up my mind to come back and spend the winter in Turi. But life, as the great artist that it is, had something else planned for me (or maybe I was already ready, deep down, for my new path).

At the end of May, it turned out that my nearly 10-year-long relationship had come to an end – and that was the moment when I knew, with absolute clarity, that I was moving to Italy for real. Either now… or (most likely) never.

All of July and August were spent wrapping up my work in Riga, and in between – meeting and saying goodbye to friends. What was interesting is that, apart from literally a couple of people, my announcement that “in a month I’m moving to Italy” didn’t surprise anyone.

In fact, the most common reactions were: “yes, this is so you,” “that’s amazing, we’re happy for you,” “you belong there,” and things along those lines. And they’re right – I’m expressive, I enjoy life, I laugh a lot.

I love being so close to cultural landmarks. As a photographer, my eye naturally sees life in potential frames. Bari has its own opera house – Teatro Petruzzelli – where, for example, in May 2026, the Berlin Philharmonic will be performing with Riccardo Muti. And hopping over to exhibitions in Rome, Turin, or Milan feels almost like catching a bus to Kuldīga. Okay, slight exaggeration – the flight is about an hour, while the bus to Kuldīga is three and a half – but the ticket is only slightly more expensive.

My everyday life now unfolds in a relatively small town, about 30 km from Bari – Turi. Bari Airport is 45 km away, the Adriatic Sea about 20 km, and the Ionian Sea – with its sandy beaches and crystal-clear water – around 100 km (often referred to as the “Caribbean” or even the “Maldives” of Salento). Turi has around 12,000 inhabitants (as of the end of 2024).

You might know Turi best for its famous “Ferrovia” cherries, which even have their own annual festival in June. During this time, the town fills with colors, music, and local delicacies. The historic center, with its narrow white streets and quiet courtyards, holds stories of the past, while the Festa di Sant'Oronzo reflects deep-rooted local traditions and faith.

Festivals, in general, are a huge part of life here. For example, the very next day after I arrived, the town kicked off a three-day celebration – Festa del Borgo Antico e Sagra delle Delizie Turesi. One evening featured two different comedians performing in the main square, the next was dedicated to folk dancing, and it all wrapped up with an ’80s disco concert by the band Vega 80. And every single evening came with the chance to taste regional delicacies.

On top of that, the night before the festival even began, a symphonic orchestra with a soloist performed in another old town square. Needless to say, both nights – despite not knowing a single person and being there on my own – I danced my heart out… and felt incredibly, overwhelmingly happy.

One evening in Bari, after visiting an exhibition, we were slowly making our way with friends toward an aperitivo in the old town. We wandered into a small square – people were casually sitting on curbs, on chairs outside their homes, there was a long line at one of the pizzerias, and we chose to sit down at Trattoria Donna Carmela.

A playlist of the most iconic Italian pop songs was playing, when suddenly one of the waiters ran outside, jumped onto a crate, and started singing along to the music. I mean… how can you just sit still after that?!

In Riga, my “old self” would have probably been shy, but here – without a second of hesitation – I was already on my feet, dancing and singing a duet with this incredibly charismatic waiter… for about three songs straight. And it feels so good, because you don’t feel out of place – you feel like a local. And instead of awkwardness, it sparks smiles around you and makes others want to join in. And of course, the tourists are filming it all :)

Around Turi stretches the characteristic Apulian landscape – olive trees, vineyards, and almond fields that change colors with the seasons. This is a place where the true spirit of dolce vita still exists – unhurried, warm, and full of real flavor.

The blooming fruit trees smell like honey – and I had never, until now, recognized the scent of honey in blossoms.

At the moment (at the time of writing – October 2025, just a little over a month since the move), I’ve already come quite far. Within a week of arriving, I had found a small studio apartment in the old town, registered my residence (yes – I got a rental contract, which required a Codice Fiscale), got an Italian phone number, and I’m close to receiving my Italian ID card.

Since I had a trip to Sicily planned for early October (booked almost a year ago), I’ll return to all the admin processes at the end of the month. Huge thanks to my friends in Turi – for example, even something as simple as being able to put out the trash required filling out several forms, and I was very glad Miks came along to help.

And yes – the language. I started learning Italian last September, but at a rather relaxed pace (as you probably guessed – via Duolingo). Partly because I wanted to be able to speak more once I was actually here, and partly with a long-term idea that it might become my everyday language. Since that “future” arrived so quickly, I now find myself needing to take it much more seriously. Of course, in daily life, trying to communicate and translating words helps some of them stick – but I want to integrate faster, to truly become part of the city’s rhythm, and to communicate freely in the language of the country I’ve chosen to live in.

If you ask me whether I regret my decision, the answer is quick – NO. Absolutely not. Because it’s a million times better to regret something you did than something you could have done but didn’t (read: fulfilling a dream). There’s never really a “perfect” moment – the right moment is the one when you decide to act.

I encourage you to follow your dreams, to dare to take action. The worst that can happen? It won’t work out, and you’ll try a different way. But most likely – it will work out, because when you follow a dream, how could it not?

On my website – while it’s mainly a space for web design work and photography – I also write a little about my travels. So if you’re looking for inspiration, I’d be happy if-even from afar-I can bring a smile or spark the desire to go somewhere new.

Warm and sunny greetings – currently from Sicily! ☀️

Ragusa Ibla, Oct. 2025, Sicily

PP.S. 2026 – I received my Italian ID card shortly after returning from Sicily. Over the past year, I’ve changed my place of residence, re-registered my “trash situation” (good news – it can now be done online), made new friends, enjoyed a winter where I didn’t wear gloves even once, and slowly started creating my own blooming flower garden on the rooftop terrace.

Thanks to a friend, we’ve also brought to life her idea and plan for an art gallery – https://www.galleriaroma53.com/ – we’d love it if you follow along. I’ve become a blonde. And I still don’t regret ANYTHING! The best decision of my life.

And no, my everyday life isn’t all carefree ease – but I’m living my dream, not just dreaming about it. And I truly enjoy every day, every moment, every experience. But that’s a story for another article.

Even if something doesn’t work out, at least I will have tried. Cheers! 🥂

Gargano, March 1, 2026, Italy (and yes, I went for a swim in the sea four times that day :))