The Grisly Truth About Moving to Italy

Chase, Cutting To: They Don't Want You

The breathtaking views in Orte, a medieval village that sits above a valley. Photo by Stacey Eskelin

I love Italy. Crazy about it, and for all the reasons you might think—the weather, the food, the jaw-dropping beauty. Unlike, say, the French, Italians are not only patient with my highly eccentric use of their mother tongue, they encourage it. They know, as I did not when I first came here, that the only way to learn to speak Italian is to be okay with mangling it. No, you will not learn a foreign language through osmosis or by “just living here.” Yes, it will require real study. Yes, your mother tongue will always be easier. No, most Italians do not speak English.

Italy is like living in a fairytale. Sometimes the fairytale feels as though it might be trying to kill you, never more so than when you are attempting to become a legal resident of the country. Bureaucracy is labyrinthine here, but that’s not what’s going to hang you up. Like most countries, including the U.S., immigrants (even Americans) are not necessarily wanted here.

That’s ugly, but it is the truth, and I’m not afraid to say it.

I don’t pretend to know the reasons for this. There is a general anti-immigrant feeling all over Europe and in the U.S. To be fair, some of that feeling might be justified when it comes to Italy.

Italy is a woman, and she expresses all her moods by painting the sky. Photo by Stacey Eskelin

Italy is a country that is half the size of Texas but with twice the population. There are barely enough jobs for Italian nationals, let alone immigrants, and the social safety net is not as robust as what you’ll find in Germany or Northern Europe. The national debt is abysmal, and it keeps growing. Young Italians tend to live abroad where jobs are more plentiful; those that stay open coffee bars. Coffee bars are local. They are not a growth industry. This is a problem.

Even affluent Americans have trouble becoming legal residents of Italy (unless they’re George Clooney). I’m not talking about citizenship, mind you, just permission to legally live within a comune (municipality).

Let me describe this process, and then explain why even if you follow it to the letter, you may not succeed.

Visa. Anyone staying in Italy longer than ninety days will need a visa. You must go to your nearest Italian consulate in the U.S. to obtain one. READ THE GOOGLE REVIEWS BEFORE YOU GO. It will help to manage your expectations. Some Italian consulate officials are helpful, but many of them are awful. The stories are legion: people screaming at you, insulting you, arbitrarily denying your application. These officials are not representative of Italians as a whole, and I have no idea what their childhood traumas are, but they do have the power to make you miserable. And they will.

If you go, and your experience is lovely, know how lucky you are. I know people who have temporarily moved to a different district, just so they can talk to someone who isn’t openly hostile to their application. Establishing a legal foothold in Italy is a trial by fire—think “Ten Labors of Hercules,” only in rapid-fire Italian.

There is plenty of paperwork for you to do, too, so make sure you have every single form, tax return, health insurance receipt, proof of income they ask for. Oh, and you’re going to need a property rental or purchase agreement with your name on it. An AirBnB address won’t cut it. This can be a bit terrifying since you need the rental or purchase agreement FIRST, before you are approved for residence. If things don’t work out, too bad.

Vitorchiano. In Italy, you are spoiled with beauty every moment of your life. Photo by Stacey Eskelin

Here are a few types of visas you can apply for: a student visa, a work visa (straight up next to impossible unless your company stationed you in Italy), a visa for the dependent of a legal resident or citizen of Italy, or (your best bet), a visa for someone who doesn’t plan on working and has A STEADY MONTHLY INCOME to support herself. An amply-provisioned retiree, for example.

You’re not guaranteed legal residency, but at least you stand a fighting chance if you can prove money isn’t a problem. I’m not talking about a big chunk of cash in your bank account or even a steady paycheck; I mean a generous monthly passive income (i.e., a retirement pension, a trust fund) that you can prove exists. The dollar amount changes regularly, but the last I heard, it was at least $30,000 a year.

Once you get to Italy, you’ll need to parlay that visa into the holy of holies, a permesso di soggiorno. This is the document that allows you to legally stay longer than ninety days. You can only apply for it once you get here, and it will take months to complete. Months. Your application is submitted to your local questura, or police station, where they will review all the documents you gave the Italian consulate, a fingerprint card and a background check by Interpol.

Expect hideous waits in crowded rooms. In addition, you may be required to take a civics class before they issue you a permesso di soggiorno (the rules change all the time, so this may or may not be an absolute). Invariably, that civics class will be in another city, infrequently offered, or offered at irregular hours, and you will need to call to confirm that it even exists. Don’t expect people to speak English, especially the further out from the major cities you go. You’re in Italy now. It’s up to you to learn the language. Barring that, you will need a fluent speaker who can make phone calls on your behalf and can hopefully deal with some of the more terrifying bureaucratic obstacles.

Before going to the questura, take every single scrap of paper you think you might need, organize it in a folder with tabs, KEEP ALL YOUR RECEIPTS no matter how inconsequential, and bring a folding chair, a beverage, and some form of entertainment. You will wait. The rules may have changed because of Covid, but so far, all that means is people queue up outside, not inside, a government building.

The port city of Salerno. Photo by Stacey Eskelin

Now for the bad part.

I know people who have lived illegally in Italy for most of their lives. They own property, speak fluent Italian, and some even have businesses and pay taxes. None was able to obtain legal residency, not even with teams of lawyers. No reason is given by the authorities, and gone are the pre-European Union days when you could just grease the right palms. It’s almost as though the admissions window flies open a few times a month, and whatever face appears inside that window is the face they choose. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it except that people who are willing to go through a gauntlet of bureaucratic horrors AND who have a generous passive income are, perhaps, not as rudely laughed at.

Are there exceptions? Sure. But are you going to be one of them?

I’ve given you a realistic idea of what to expect.

So, what are your options?

Three things, actually.

One, you could marry an Italian citizen. This worked beautifully for a friend of mine. She knew a man, recently divorced, who was short on funds, and she needed a ring on her finger in order to stay in the country. Win/win. A word of warning, however. The Italian authorities WILL show up at your house at five in the morning, and they expect to see signs of spousal residency there. If you get caught play-acting, you could get expelled not only from Italy, but from the European Union.

Two, you move to a country like Portugal and after a few years, you are able to establish residency. There are tons of English-speaking expats in Portugal. As a resident of the country, you are allowed to move anywhere within the Schengen Region (Europe), including Italy. Unlike most EU countries, Portugal doesn’t impose physical presence requirements, which means you could pop in for two weeks out of the year, no harm, no foul, no questions.

Your third option is jus sanguinis, or Italian citizenship by bloodline. The particulars of achieving this are too vast a subject for the scope of this one article, but you can expect many of the same headaches as people who have no prior claim to residence in Italy. Personally, if I had even a drop of Italian blood, which I don’t, I’d hire a legal specialist to help me. It’s difficult, but it’s doable.

There are caveats. If your Italian-born ancestor became a naturalized citizen of the U.S. before June 14, 1912, you are ineligible. There are other wildly sexist ineligibilities (i.e., you were born before 1948 or your only Italian legal parent is female) that are being reviewed, but not fast enough. Expect headaches and delays. Recruit help.

One of dozens of UNESCO sites in Italy. Photo by Stacey Eskelin

Given the obstacles, why would anybody try to live in Italy?

You live in Italy when you can’t imagine living anywhere else.

You live in Italy when the idea of going home makes you physically ill.

You live in Italy when you are willing to make any sacrifice to be here. And you will make sacrifices. The way forward is fraught with peril, but that’s true whether you move to Italy or stay right where you are.

In the end—and I truly believe this—you don’t choose Italy; she chooses you.

Do you have aspirations of living abroad? Drop me a line in the comments section!