I Knew Lucca When Bicycles Still Belonged to the City.

There was a time when Lucca felt like one of Tuscany’s true hidden gems. It was a small walled city with a long memory, graceful habits, and very little need to explain itself to the outside world. People came because they had found Lucca, not because Lucca had become fashionable.

That is what feels different now.

Today, Lucca is no longer hidden. It has become one of those places people speak about with excitement and urgency — where to retire, where to move, where to begin again, where to buy before everyone else arrives. And I understand why. We are seeing this in many countries now. People are searching for beauty, culture, walkability, and a gentler way of life.

I do not fault anyone for that. But when a place becomes widely sought after, the experience of it begins to change. The old promise of the hidden gem begins to fade. We hear it everywhere now. People say they thought Rome would be quiet in winter, only to find it so crowded they can barely walk down a street. The same thing happens in smaller places once the world begins to notice them.

And yet, Lucca is still Lucca in the ways that matter most.

I knew Lucca when bicycles were still the primary way to get around the city, and part of what gave it its quiet elegance. You saw it everywhere. Women riding through the streets in high heels, so confident and so at ease. Friends gliding in and out of the city gates. Baskets filled with bread, flowers, or whatever was needed for the day. It was never a performance. It was simply the natural rhythm of daily life.

That is one of the things I remember most.

The Lucchese gave the city its rhythm. There was a way people moved through Lucca — not hurried, not showy, simply assured. The Sunday passeggiata was always part of life here. People dressed well, stepped out into the streets, greeted friends, and took their place in the city with that easy confidence that belongs to people who truly know where they belong. Lucca was never only beautiful because of its walls or churches. It was beautiful because of the people who knew how to live inside it.

I remember meeting friends and riding our bikes into the walled city. We would stop at a deli and order sandwiches, then make our way up onto the walls and find a grassy place for a picnic. Pure heaven. Afterward, we would ride back down into the city and have a gelato. It was simple, elegant, and entirely unforgettable.

That is the Lucca I still carry with me.

Now it is far more difficult to ride a bicycle through Lucca as we once did. That may sound like a small thing, but it is not. It tells you something about pace, pressure, and the way daily life begins to shift when a city that once belonged mostly to itself becomes a destination for everyone else.

Still, so much remains.

The walls still hold the city in their quiet embrace. The churches still rise from the stone streets. The piazzas still invite you to linger.

One of the changes I do welcome is the shopping. There was a time when Florence was the obvious destination for a proper day of browsing and buying. Now Lucca has grown into that role beautifully in its own way. Via Fillungo, the main shopping street that runs through the heart of the city, has become part of that story. Today, you can spend a wonderful day wandering its elegant shops, local boutiques, artisan storefronts, and stores at a range of price points without ever feeling you must go farther afield.

What I love is that shopping in Lucca still feels manageable. It is not the intensity of a big city shopping day. It is more relaxed, more local, and far more enjoyable. You can browse along Via Fillungo, stop when something catches your eye, enjoy a wonderful lunch, and still be home before dark.

I understand why some people call Lucca a small Florence. Not because it is trying to be Florence, but because you no longer have to leave Lucca to enjoy a beautiful day of shopping.

Lucca has also grown into a city of culture, art, and celebration. There are art exhibitions inside the walls, a summer festival that seems to spread its energy further each year, Lucca Comics, and so many other events that bring life and variety to the city. There is always something to do in Lucca, and more importantly, always something to love.

That richness of life is part of what keeps Lucca from becoming only a beautiful backdrop. It is still a city that lives.

And the food — thankfully — still tells the truth.

Because I lived in Barga, in the Garfagnana, I came to know a style of cooking that felt like the best meeting point between Tuscany and Emilia-Romagna. It was rustic, generous, deeply local, and full of the kind of dishes that stay with you long after the meal is over. The food had substance, but also comfort. It felt rooted in the mountains and the countryside, yet shaped by traditions that reached beyond one province.

So when I came to Lucca, I found myself looking for those same flavors.

And often, I found them.

That is one of the things I have always loved about Lucca. The food here still feels honest and grounded, with that same satisfying mix of Tuscan simplicity and the richer, more comforting notes of Emilia-Romagna. It is not food made for show. It is food made to be enjoyed properly, at a table, with time.

Especially the tortelli Lucchese.

It still remains one of my favorite dishes. There is something about it that says Lucca to me — rustic, flavorful, and tied to place. It is the kind of dish that reminds you why Italian regional food matters so much. It tells you where you are. It gives you history, tradition, and pleasure all at once.

That is one of the reasons Lucca still feels true to itself. The city may be more talked about now, more discovered, more pursued than it once was, but when you sit down to eat, you can still find the Lucca that remembers where it comes from.

Perhaps that is what matters now. Not whether Lucca is still hidden. It is not. That time has passed. The better question is whether Lucca still knows itself.

I believe it does.

Byline

A personal reflection on the Lucchese rituals, rustic food, everyday grace, and the city that still knows itself.

Hook

Before Lucca became the place everyone was running to next, it was a city that moved to the rhythm of bicycles, passeggiate, shopping on Via Fillungo, and long local lunches.

Pull Quote

I knew Lucca when bicycles still belonged to the city, and the Lucchese still taught you how a beautiful life was meant to be lived.

Simple Photo Placement for Wix

Hero image: Lucca walls or a street scene with bicyclesPhoto 2: Via Fillungo shopping scenePhoto 3: Lucchese street life or Sunday passeggiata feelingPhoto 4: View from the walls or picnic scenePhoto 5: Festival, art exhibition, or Lucca Comics imagePhoto 6: Tortelli Lucchese or rustic mealPhoto 7: Closing golden-hour image of Lucca

If you’d like, next I’d suggest a closing quote in the same style as your Sechelt and Venice pieces.

I Knew Lucca When Bicycles Still Belonged to the City

There was a time when Lucca felt like one of Tuscany’s true hidden gems. It was a small walled city with a long memory, graceful habits, and very little need to explain itself to the outside world. People came because they had found Lucca, not because Lucca had become fashionable.

That is what feels different now.

Today, Lucca is no longer hidden. It has become one of those places people speak about with excitement and urgency — where to retire, where to move, where to begin again, where to buy before everyone else arrives. And I understand why. We are seeing this in many countries now. People are searching for beauty, culture, walkability, and a gentler way of life.

I do not fault anyone for that. But when a place becomes widely sought after, the experience of it begins to change. The old promise of the hidden gem begins to fade. We hear it everywhere now. People say they thought Rome would be quiet in winter, only to find it so crowded they can barely walk down a street. The same thing happens in smaller places once the world begins to notice them.

And yet, Lucca is still Lucca in the ways that matter most.

I knew Lucca when bicycles were still the primary way to get around the city, and part of what gave it its quiet elegance. You saw it everywhere. Women riding through the streets in high heels, so confident and so at ease. Friends gliding in and out of the city gates. Baskets filled with bread, flowers, or whatever was needed for the day. It was never a performance. It was simply the natural rhythm of daily life.

That is one of the things I remember most.

The Lucchese gave the city its rhythm. There was a way people moved through Lucca — not hurried, not showy, simply assured. The Sunday passeggiata was always part of life here. People dressed well, stepped out into the streets, greeted friends, and took their place in the city with that easy confidence that belongs to people who truly know where they belong. Lucca was never only beautiful because of its walls or churches. It was beautiful because of the people who knew how to live inside it.

I remember meeting friends and riding our bikes into the walled city. We would stop at a deli and order sandwiches, then make our way up onto the walls and find a grassy place for a picnic. Pure heaven. Afterward, we would ride back down into the city and have a gelato. It was simple, elegant, and entirely unforgettable.

That is the Lucca I still carry with me.

Now it is far more difficult to ride a bicycle through Lucca as we once did. That may sound like a small thing, but it is not. It tells you something about pace, pressure, and the way daily life begins to shift when a city that once belonged mostly to itself becomes a destination for everyone else.

Still, so much remains.

The walls still hold the city in their quiet embrace. The churches still rise from the stone streets. The piazzas still invite you to linger.

One of the changes I do welcome is the shopping. There was a time when Florence was the obvious destination for a proper day of browsing and buying. Now Lucca has grown into that role beautifully in its own way. Via Fillungo, the main shopping street that runs through the heart of the city, has become part of that story. Today, you can spend a wonderful day wandering its elegant shops, local boutiques, artisan storefronts, and stores at a range of price points without ever feeling you must go farther afield.

What I love is that shopping in Lucca still feels manageable. It is not the intensity of a big city shopping day. It is more relaxed, more local, and far more enjoyable. You can browse along Via Fillungo, stop when something catches your eye, enjoy a wonderful lunch, and still be home before dark.

I understand why some people call Lucca a small Florence. Not because it is trying to be Florence, but because you no longer have to leave Lucca to enjoy a beautiful day of shopping.

Lucca has also grown into a city of culture, art, and celebration. There are art exhibitions inside the walls, a summer festival that seems to spread its energy further each year, Lucca Comics, and so many other events that bring life and variety to the city. There is always something to do in Lucca, and more importantly, always something to love.

That richness of life is part of what keeps Lucca from becoming only a beautiful backdrop. It is still a city that lives.

And the food — thankfully — still tells the truth.

Because I lived in Barga, in the Garfagnana, I came to know a style of cooking that felt like the best meeting point between Tuscany and Emilia-Romagna. It was rustic, generous, deeply local, and full of the kind of dishes that stay with you long after the meal is over. The food had substance, but also comfort. It felt rooted in the mountains and the countryside, yet shaped by traditions that reached beyond one province.

So when I came to Lucca, I found myself looking for those same flavors.

And often, I found them.

That is one of the things I have always loved about Lucca. The food here still feels honest and grounded, with that same satisfying mix of Tuscan simplicity and the richer, more comforting notes of Emilia-Romagna. It is not food made for show. It is food made to be enjoyed properly, at a table, with time.

Especially the tortelli Lucchese.

It still remains one of my favorite dishes. There is something about it that says Lucca to me — rustic, flavorful, and tied to place. It is the kind of dish that reminds you why Italian regional food matters so much. It tells you where you are. It gives you history, tradition, and pleasure all at once.

That is one of the reasons Lucca still feels true to itself. The city may be more talked about now, more discovered, more pursued than it once was, but when you sit down to eat, you can still find the Lucca that remembers where it comes from.

Perhaps that is what matters now. Not whether Lucca is still hidden. It is not. That time has passed. The better question is whether Lucca still knows itself.

I believe it does.

Byline

A personal reflection on the Lucchese rituals, rustic food, everyday grace, and the city that still knows itself.

Hook

Before Lucca became the place everyone was running to next, it was a city that moved to the rhythm of bicycles, passeggiate, shopping on Via Fillungo, and long local lunches.

Pull Quote

I knew Lucca when bicycles still belonged to the city, and the Lucchese still taught you how a beautiful life was meant to be lived.

Simple Photo Placement for Wix

Hero image: Lucca walls or a street scene with bicyclesPhoto 2: Via Fillungo shopping scenePhoto 3: Lucchese street life or Sunday passeggiata feelingPhoto 4: View from the walls or picnic scenePhoto 5: Festival, art exhibition, or Lucca Comics imagePhoto 6: Tortelli Lucchese or rustic mealPhoto 7: Closing golden-hour image of Lucca

If you’d like, next I’d suggest a closing quote in the same style as your Sechelt and Venice pieces.