The Writers’ Retreat
I spent my house deposit on a six-day writers’ retreat to Tuscany, and it changed my life.
I sat at my desk in the open plan office, iPhone in hand and tears in my eyes. After six months of fighting with solicitors and estate agents, six months of emails and paperwork, six months of telling myself, “Yes, this is what I want,” the tiny one-bedroom flat purchase had fallen through. Without skipping a beat, I opened a new tab on my work laptop and started to type.
Over the years, I have seen even my happiest friends go grey in the face when discussing mortgage rates, chains, and stamp duty, and I had sworn this could never be me. But something happened when I hit 34. I felt left behind, immature, out of place. I was still single, renting, and I’d just run the Manchester marathon – because what else would a child-free woman in her thirties be doing on a Sunday afternoon in April? I had to join the real world, and whilst I couldn’t seemingly do anything about the being single bit, I decided I could affect other areas: I decided to buy my own place.
I have never followed the ‘typical’ path. In 2018, I quit my career as an English teacher to work as an elf, a Halloween scare actor, and a dinosaur hunter at kids’ theme park. In 2020, I came out as gay at the ripe old age of 29, and in 2023 I flew to New York for Pride weekend and performed improv comedy at a dive bar in Brooklyn. I haven’t had your ‘run-of-the-mill’ girl-from-a-mining-town-in-Yorkshire life, let’s put it that way. Which is why when I was sitting at my desk that Tuesday afternoon and the solicitors called me to say the new home was not to be, I clicked back into my spontaneous, fun-time-girl factory settings and Googled ‘writing retreats Europe’.
I love to write, and I had neglected it for the past three years. The last project I’d finished had been a play I’d written and directed in 2022, which was based on my first relationship with a woman. After this I’d somehow lost my way, and now my fingers typed before my brain had chance to catch up. The money I had saved on the deposit was burning a hole in my bank account and, £5000 later, I was reading the itinerary for my next adventure.
“Wow, that’s brave.” “I could never do that.” “Don’t you want to save up for a house?” The reactions of those I told didn’t surprise me, but all I could think was if I’d spent five grand on a wedding dress, the same people would be ooh-ing and ah-ing and asking for photographs immediately. We’re taught to invest in weddings and houses and children, and investing in ourselves seems almost frivolous. “What will you do after that?” The truth was that I didn’t actually know. But I packed a bag with my book, notepad and a few bikinis and jetted off to Pisa to meet eight strangers who reshaped the way I framed my life.
Picture this: rows of olive trees stretching towards the horizon, a crystal blue pool reflecting a cloudless sky of the same tone and a traditional Italian villa overlooking the scene, each charming room within getting a panoramic view of cypress trees and vast countryside. I felt like I’d become Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun. “Step into your new world. Leave the old one behind.” The course leaders welcomed me into this Pinterest board of Italy.
What happened for the following six days and nights in that villa is almost sacred. Every person in the group had their own wonderful story to tell, each one subtly – and some not so subtly – influenced by their own lives and backgrounds. I was in awe. To be surrounded by those with such depth of experience was to understand that there is no blueprint for what life should look like. The advice shared between us over three course feasts and local wine solidified for me that I was exactly where I should be. The sunsets we admired together made me choke up at the beauty of the world we often miss because we’re simply not looking up. What we noticed as a group was we’d all found ourselves there for a range of reasons, each of us motivated by diverse factors in our individual lives back home, but the synchronicities between us were astounding. Our love for the written word was a given: reading aloud our own work, vulnerable to feedback of new friends, was both daunting and thrilling. But our shared passion for ‘embracing la dolce vita’ (borrowed from Write Away Europe’s website) meant we connected in ways I didn’t expect. Morning swims after breakfast, midnight conversations about music that inspires us, comparing Zodiac signs and how they seemed to complement each other, belly laughing during a game I tried to teach them, the rules of which nobody understood after a bottle and half of pink fizz.
Saying goodbye to people who were strangers six days earlier should have been easy, but what we learned from and taught each other meant we created extremely deep bonds, and getting on a train to the airport with a handwritten postcard from one of those new friends both filled and broke my heart. “Cross the threshold to the adventure of your life. Thank you for seeing me and reminding me of the value of connection and synchronicity.”
At the airport, I bought a book recommended during one of many conversations by the pool – the newest release of my favourite author. After I finished it, I sent a message to that author, who replied with such grace and who wished me luck with my own writing. This felt like the perfect end to the week I’d just had.
Since I got home, the words have poured out of me. I’ve taken more risks with my work, made conscious decisions not to pursue projects which no longer serve me, and I have a confidence and trust in my choices that I never had before. Being amongst people who think and feel like I do, who appreciate that life isn’t just about mortgages and desk jobs and living for the weekend reminded me that who I am and what I choose is valid, that being single, child-free and still renting at 35 is a valuable way to live, and following the pull that takes you to the rolling hills of Italy to meet eight wonderful strangers might just change my life. Spending half of a house deposit on less than a week in Tuscany seemed reckless from the outside, but it was the smartest investment I ever made. ⚭
Rachel CracknellMore 2G4
