By Thomas Pigeon
The morning air in Florence is crisp. Sunlight drips through narrow streets, illuminating cobblestones polished by centuries of gentle footsteps. Here, amidst this exquisite ballet of light and shadow, I first encounter Rob Murgatroyd. He approaches effortlessly, more like a seasoned Hollywood actor than the chiropractor he once was—radiating warmth, elegance, and charm.
From our very first handshake, Rob exudes a balance of sophistication and genuine warmth. Like many drawn to this land, he fell deeply under Italy’s magnetic pull. With infectious energy and passion for living, Rob with his wife, partner and confidante, Kim, chose to fully embrace the lyrical rhythms of La Dolce Vita. I had the pleasure of walking through the streets of Florence chatting with him as well as dining with him at one of his favourite Florentine rooftop restaurants, Osteria delle Tre Panche, and hearing some of his story.
Italy isn’t just a place; it’s a feeling, a state of being. Each day, I wake knowing something beautiful awaits. It might be the laughter of friends, the rich aroma of espresso, or the gentle murmur of history in these ancient stones. It’s endlessly renewing.
— ROB MURGATROYD
“Many visitors come to Italy,” Rob confides gently, his voice reflecting amusement and empathy. “Upon first visiting Italy many drop to one knee and vow passionately beneath the Colosseum to return and build lives here—but 99% never do. To some extent it’s understandable. It’s a big step”. A twinkle lights his eyes. “But we’re the stubborn one percent. We planted ourselves firmly and never looked back.” Indeed, the Murgatroyd’s have become threads in the vibrant tapestry of Florentine life, interwoven seamlessly into its colorful culture. Through artful storytelling on their social media channels, they’ve captivated countless hearts yearning for Italy, weaving narratives filled with wonder and authenticity.
Walking Florence’s intimate alleyways with Rob is like rediscovering the city through youthful eyes, filled with wonder and discovery. He points reverently to details easily overlooked: “See Luigi’s trattoria? His Nonna still shapes gnocchi every Thursday morning.” Or pausing and looking at a hidden café: “You’ll never find an affogato more decadent—a fabulous swirl of coffee and gelato.”
His passion for Florence has not gone unnoticed by the city itself. Recently, the city of Florence honoured Rob with a civic recognition—an acknowledgment of his heartfelt contribution to sharing Italy’s beauty with the world. ‘It was deeply humbling,’ he tells me. To be seen not just as an American living in Florence, but as someone helping reflect her spirit back to the world—it meant everything.”
We continue our journey and meander through the city, savouring each anecdote as if sipping fine Chianti. Curiosity overcomes me, and I ask Rob directly about his inspiration to move.
Rob smiles knowingly, “It was a trail of breadcrumbs. My grandparents hailed from Naples, and I grew up wrapped in an Italian American embrace. Kim fell in love with Florence as a teenager. When it was time to propose, Positano called—it had to be amidst candles flickering in the Duomo. We knew our lives would forever intertwine with Italy.”
Another breadcrumb Rob reveals is his serendipitous introduction to likely his closest friend here, Michele Capecchi, a charismatic lawyer who helps North Americans navigate Italy’s notorious bureaucracy. “Michele was introduced through a friend,” Rob laughs. “He quickly became essential. It was as if Italy herself conspired to ease our path.”
Yet, their journey wasn’t without hurdles. Rob recalls the frantic scramble for a visa: “I needed it urgently before a trip to Greece. And the process demands you surrender your passport until they have approved the process. I was applying at the same time for a visa to stay for the entire year in Italy at the Italian Consulate. The clerk’s incredulity gave way to laughter—imagine, getting a visa in a week! Yet somehow, miraculously, the impossible became possible.” He pauses reflectively. “Literally the day before we need to fly to Greece our passports were returned, and our visas were in hand. That’s Italy—infuriating yet endlessly flexible.”
Italy’s leisurely pace has profoundly reshaped Rob. Not an easy move for a triple type A American. He shares, eyes twinkling, how adopting “piano piano lentamente”—slowly, slowly—became essential. “Once, dropping off some dry cleaning, I discovered the shopkeeper was leaving the next day and like many Italians would take the entire month of August off, for a month at the seaside. ‘They’ll be ready when I return’ the shopkeeper quipped. This country teaches patience and appreciation in equal measure.” His response is more one of astonishment than upset. The rules are different here; the time frames are different. and surely for Italians their commitment to vacationing for a month by the sea or celebrating Ferragosto is only eclipsed by their commitment to family and religion. Gino D’Acampo, a celebrity Italian chef, noted during an interview: “On Ferragosto (August 15), everything is closed, even the hospitals. It’s a bad day to get sick. If you get really sick you die that day”.
In four short years, Rob has masterfully articulated the poetry of Italian life through storytelling. His tales resonate deeply, touching those yearning for Italy’s charms and amusing locals who recognize themselves in his commentary. Yet fame has brought unexpected complexity. He’s developed a celebrity status of sorts that makes him somewhat uncomfortable. I observed it firsthand when walking through the streets of Florence and chatting as countless acquaintances and shopkeepers would pop their heads out to say hello and acknowledge him. Rob admits candidly, “Being recognized constantly is surreal. As much as social media is our medium, I try to stay somewhat away from it—I don’t read comments or engage online. You can have a hundred positive comments, but one bad one can ruin your day.”
Beyond digital presence, Rob has expanded into entrepreneurship, offering webinars for aspiring expats, curating unforgettable experiences like private access to Florence’s iconic Duomo, flying guests to a special vineyard in Toscana by helicopter, or doing bicycle tours and stopping for an elegant roadside picnic while doing an olive oil tasting. His newest project is penning a forthcoming book, I Like You Better in Italy. “The title emerged from a heartfelt moment with Kim,” Rob confesses. “Observing my newfound happiness, she simply stated, ‘I like you better in Italy.’ That revelation became our guiding star.”
Italy’s sensory magic infuses Rob’s stories—from the sweet fragrance of freshly baked schiacciata con l’uva to the guarded secrets of Tuscan truffle hunters. “We joined a truffle hunter who meticulously concealed his vehicle beneath branches when we arrived at his hunting spot. ‘If rivals find this spot,’ he whispered dramatically, ‘it’s lost forever.’ Watching him reward his eager dog merely with a stick left me awed by the mere simplicity and passion.”.
He acknowledges the simple things and the truism that craft is everywhere in Italy as he speaks passionately of a rolling-pin artisan, “Can you imagine, rolling pins? His family has crafted them for generations. His young sons, already apprentices, mastering the craft. There’s profound pride in tradition here.”
He notes with passion his belief “Authenticity is vital; creating from the heart matters most to me.”
“Just when you think you got it all figured out, I’m like, “Well, I didn’t know that.” For example, last week I go to get a suit made, and the guy who makes suits here are called ‘Sarto’. And he says to me, ‘You know why my shop is called Sartorio?’ I’m like, ‘No!’ He says, ‘There’s a muscle that goes from the top of your hip to the top of your knee. It’s called the Sartorius muscle. So, the way we check, when you buy a suit, we have you cross your legs, and they look to see how the suit is to be cut based on how you cross your legs, using the Sartorius muscle as a measurement tool of sorts. Hence why the word is associated with suit
The conversation naturally moves to wine, and we order a nice bottle of from Antinori. Rob takes this opportunity to talk about his admiration for the company history and story. “Antinori is maybe the world’s oldest winery, 700 years. Every generation has had at least one male child, to run the company. This last generation, three girls. The patriarch is 80 years old. The bloodline’s broken. It was a big deal. He sells 50% of Antinori to a German beer company. It doesn’t go well. The three daughters say, ‘Dad, give us a chance.’ He’s incredulous, ‘You’re not farmers. You are women, you’re going to have babies.’ They say, ‘Please papa, give us a chance.’ He said, ‘Okay,’ he bought the company back, had the three girls run it, and they went up 5X, from what they’ve ever done before.”
Rob adores Italy’s devotion to seasonality: “There’s a season for everything here. Every taste is fleeting yet exquisite—olive oil harvested at peak, grapes plucked at perfect ripeness, there’s a pear season, a black truffle season, a white truffle season. Italians embrace nature’s rhythms with reverence, savouring each moment fully.”
We laugh together over Italian breakfast rituals. “I’m a runner, I like to work out in the gym, getting enough protein is difficult here. We once bought 18 eggs; the shopkeeper assumed a grand celebration. Italians usually indulge merely in sweet pastries and espresso. Our North American hearty breakfasts and my quest for protein mystify them completely.”
The title emerged from a heartfelt moment with Kim, Observing my newfound happiness, she simply stated, ‘I like you better in Italy.’ That revelation became our guiding star.
— ROB MURGATROYD
One of Rob’s favorite rituals, he tells me, is simply wandering. “Some mornings, I walk without a destination—just letting the rhythm of the streets guide me. I’ll find myself in a sun-drenched piazza, maybe watching a shoemaker polish a pair of weathered shoes, giving them hope for a longer life. There’s a stillness in that. It’s where you meet yourself.” He pauses, then adds, “In America, I was constantly chasing the next thing. Here, I’m learning to savour what’s already in front of me.”
Reflecting thoughtfully, Rob urges prospective expats, “Identify your fears—routine disruption, financial uncertainty, cultural adaptation—then immerse authentically here for 90 days. Let Italy speak to your soul.”
Rob embodies Italy’s lessons—authenticity, patience, and joy in simple pleasures. His and his wife’s story inspires reflection: “Life is short—approximately 4,000 precious weeks. Pursue meaning passionately. For me, it was Italy. Your path might differ, but you’ll never discover your destination without that first courageous step.”
We pause on a bridge beside the softly flowing Arno River as Rob shares a final insight. “Italy isn’t just a place; it’s a feeling, a state of being. Each day, I wake knowing something beautiful awaits. It might be the laughter of friends, the rich aroma of espresso, or the gentle murmur of history in these ancient stones. It’s endlessly renewing.”
As we part, the setting sun paints Florence in shades of amber and rose. Watching Rob disappear into this enchanted landscape, I’m struck by a resonant thought: true joy emerges when we bravely follow the breadcrumbs laid by our heart’s deepest yearnings. – VV
