My Italian Story
Like every good story, mine has a happy start, a tragic middle, and an ending full of hope.
I hope you enjoy reading it!
Hello, my name is Nick.
I was born in England, my mother was born in Scotland, but my father was born in Italy. Like his mother—my Grandmother, Marisa Benincasa—and all her descendants, my father was Italian.
A happy start
My Italian family is from Tuscany, mainly from Poggibonsi and Motteriggioni-Siena.
My English name—Salloway—is taken from my English Grandfather, who married my Italian Grandmother at the end of World War II.
I have few connections with my Scottish descendants because my mother was an orphan, and I never knew them. My British grandfather's marriage to my Italian Grandmother ended when I was very young, so I also have few connections to the Salloway family outside my immediate family.
However, I have many connections to my Italian family and Poggibonsi, which they call home.
During my childhood, I spent holidays in Poggibonsi with my Italian family.
I have countless happy memories of staying at Aunty Mara's house in Via Mura, Poggibonsi. It was a tiny, cosy house with six of us crammed into its two small bedrooms. That little house was my first Italian home.
I spent my days in Poggibonsi with my cousin Mauro, his friends Paulo, Beppe, Alessandro, and Simone, and the entourage of Italian girls who often joined our group. Together, we roamed the streets, drank Spuma in bars, and swam in the river Elsa. Our little group enjoyed the passeggiata most evenings in Via Maestra before riding Vespa scooters around the streets until it was time to go home.
Of course, there was food—lots of food! We enjoyed fabulous long family dinners cooked by my aunts Tecla, Mara, and Marcella. We visited Tecla's family farm for dinners and pizzas made in the magnificent oven under the vine-covered pergola.
Uncle Mario took us for family picnics in fields by rivers, places now lost to the past. We visited the homes of Francesco and Enzo, my dad's childhood friends and enjoyed evenings eating dinner outdoors under the fading Tuscan evening sun.
These were the happiest of times.
My childhood in Italy left me with a life-long connection to the place, the people, and my Italian family.
These times in the Tuscan countryside sowed the seeds of my love of the outdoors.
The red soils, endless rows of vineyards, olive groves and Cypress trees - the sight of lizards basking on sun-baked walls, pipistrelle flying around and crickets chirping as the sun began to set, left an indelible mark on an English boy who became a man with a deep routed sense that Italy, and Tuscany in particular, was my true home.
A tragic middle
My great-grandfather Vittorio Benincasa passed away in 1978, followed eight years later in 1986, by my great-grandmother, Anna Gamberucci ved Benincasa, who passed away in the Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala, in front of the Duomo in Siena.
Tragically, I also lost my father in 1985, a year before my great-grandmother, when he was only 40 years old. I was fifteen. My dad's loss at such a young age was tough.
One year after my father's death, in 1986, we revisited my Italian family, this time, of course, without my father for the first time. In some ways, it was no different from every other visit before; we spent time with friends and family and went to all the places we loved, but it was strange to be there without my dad. There was a sadness we all felt.
When I was twenty years old, I travelled once more to Poggibonsi, this time alone, without my mother or siblings. Although I enjoyed seeing my Italian family again, I was still sad after losing my dad at such a young age. I didn't realise it then, but I wouldn't revisit Poggibonsi or my family for another 34 years.
Life continues
Despite the tragic loss of my father and the inevitable challenges that followed, I spent thirty years working hard to create a life for myself in England.
I met a beautiful English girl, and we have two wonderful daughters, Ashley and Bethany, of whom I am very proud.
I am also incredibly lucky to have three beautiful granddaughters, Lucy, Annabelle, and Violette, and I have a grandson on the way!
After studying electronic engineering and working in digital agencies, I founded two companies in 2011 that helped businesses better use technology in their operations.
However, my connection to Italy and my Italian family has never left me throughout my life and work. I often spoke to my daughters about their Italian heritage and thought about my Italian family. From a distance, I watched as, one by one, my aunts and uncles passed away, all the while feeling like something was missing from my life. I was somehow disconnected from who I am and where I'm from. When I finally lost my Grandmother in 2020, I understood that unless I returned to Italy, my connection to the place of my ancestors and my family might be forgotten, perhaps forever.
After a tumultuous year - personally and professionally - in 2023, the sense that I had to reconnect with my family and my past overwhelmed me.
I decided I must return to Italy.
So I contacted my cousin Massimo – Mauro's brother. I explained that I was going through a difficult period and needed to come to Italy. I asked him: "If I come, will you look after me?". Massi asked no questions.
He replied: "Of course, stupid English!".
The return
And so, thirty-four years after my last visit, I returned to Italy and my Italian family.
When I boarded my flight in October 2023, I was nervous about what I would find and how I would feel about seeing family for the first time in such a long time and being back in a place that once made me so happy but still brought back painful childhood memories of the loss of my father.
But if you're an Italian reading this, I'm sure you will know how this part of the story goes; Italian families are, after all, Italian families!
When I heard Massi call my name on the station platform in Firenze, I embraced him and his wife, Simona, whom I never met before, as if we'd known each other forever and never been apart.
In the days that followed, I visited all the places I spent time as a child and teenager. I went with Rita and Gianluca to visit my grandparents, aunts, and uncles in the cemetery. I even went to see Poggibonsi play a home game at the stadium. "It ain't the Premier League," I told Massi, but it was fun.
I met Massi and Simona's children, Federico and Giulia, and Matteo's (Giulia's boyfriend) family. People I'd never met welcomed me as if I had known them my entire life and was one of their own.
I visited Strove and Castel Pietraio, where my father was born, enjoyed family dinners with Massi and Mauro, and spent days driving aimlessly around the Tuscan countryside while I thought about what I wanted for my life.
I met old friends and reconnected with Dad's friend Francesco, who joked that I once told him I was coming to Italy, but he didn't expect me to take ten years to arrive.
I made new friends.
After a lifetime of feeling lost, I felt at home.
Hope
Now, I look forward.
Sadly, I lost my Nonna in 2020 at the age of 98, but her last gift was to bestow on me the right to Italian citizenship by descent.
After years of thinking about Italy, I'm in the process of becoming Italian and learning to speak the language!
I want to spend the next phase of my life living and working in Italy, the land of my father and ancestors, my home.
I will buy a home in Poggibonsi and invest in a new business there. I want to work with my Italian family- Federico and Giulia- and spend time in the Tuscan countryside.
I want to help people connected to my ancestors' land respond to climate change's challenges in a place that has always been a visceral part of my soul.
This is my renewed purpose.
I hope one day we can meet and that you may allow me to become part of your story.
