But as all vacationers need to eat, food stories are a travel writer’s staple. From London’s gastro-pubs to Bangkok street food, it’s a world of rich pickings. Admittedly, pickings are sometimes strange, but ‘strange’ is part of the job.

More on sea urchins shortly, but first to Murcia—a jewel of an art-and-culture university city. Once a Moorish stronghold, its old town is a warren of narrow lanes and little plazas shaded by orange trees, palms, jacarandas and magnolias. It’s also a byword for gastro-tapas. Small dishes of hot and cold food—tapas—are served throughout Spain, but Murcia takes the experience to new levels.

Most locals hit the tapas trail before dinner, but after a hearty lunch, an evening tapas feast is often enough for many visitors. There are bars all over the city, but there’s a wondrous cluster in Plaza Santa Catalina and adjoining Plaza de las Flores, a haven for flower-sellers.

Murcian tapa classics include michirones—plump broad beans stewed with cured ham, chorizo sausage, garlic, and sweet red peppers. Pastel de carne are flaky pastry mini-pies of minced beef, hard-boiled eggs and chorizo. A marinera is an anchovy-topped helping of Russian salad.

Most tapas cost $2.50 to $6.35. At the sophisticated end, my favorites included a pasta cylinder stuffed with scallop and boletus mushrooms in a bechamel sauce. Heaven on a plate for $3.80. But the $3.20 pastry parcel of blood pudding topped with a smear of foie gras in a sauce of dried fruits was just as good. The most I paid for anything was $6.35—for lamb braised in black beer, served in a creatively-latticed basket of crispy potato.

If you do intend writing about food, don’t forget vegetarian publications. The Murcia region is Spain’s market garden, so interesting vegetable combinations abound. One veggie delight is morcilla de verano. Although the name suggests “blood sausage” and “summer,” this meat-free tapa is served year-round. Sprinkled with oregano and toasted pine nuts, it’s eggplant braised in olive oil with minced onion and garlic.

Chefs also have the bounty of the Mediterranean and the Mar Menor, Europe’s largest saltwater lagoon. Now, although I could happily live on seafood paella, swordfish, shellfish and squid rings, I’m not enamored by the prospect of sea urchins. (Or rather, what sea urchins contain.) To me, the idea of scooping out and swallowing any creature’s reproductive parts is more repellent than mouth-watering.

Small, spiny and globular, sea urchins are a prized Spanish winter delicacy. What makes them prized is their contents—a five-pointed star of soft, orange roe. Some U.S. chefs euphemistically call these egg sacks ‘tongues.’ I’d call them appetite suppressants. Yes, they taste of the sea. But so does a mouthful of seawater.

I’m not going to lie and say “mmm—it was delicious.” It wasn’t. But for a travel writer, a sea urchin makes a great way to kick off a story about Murcia’s tapas bars.

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to learn more about ways you can pay for your life or travels overseas, including travel writing, sign up for Fund Your Life Overseas, a free e-letter from International Living. Sign up here and we’ll send you a free report: Fund Your New Life Overseas With These 5 Portable Careers.

Recommended Reading:

• The One and Only Time it’s OK to Duck a Tab

• Travel: Getting Paid for Your Passion

• Start a Blog to Fund Your Travels

There are wine merchants, estate agents, delicatessens, bakeries and beer gardens for summer. Concrete monstrosities? Not from what I can see.

With its numerous cafe-bars, boutiques and Saturday gourmet organic food market, Prenzlauer Berg is among the most sought-after neighborhoods of the former East Berlin, Germany. On warm summer evenings, Kollwitzplatz stays lively until well into the early hours.

Often built around an inner courtyard, many Prenzlauer Berg houses were constructed between 1880 and 1920. Although apartments were State-issued for 50 years, the houses remained in the original Altbau style. The name means “old build,” but most have been stylishly refurbished over the past 20 years.

A typical Altbau apartment has high ceilings, original wooden floors and a balcony. Grander buildings have facades with Jugendstilfeatures—Germany’s version of Art Nouveau. Although anti-socialist propaganda painted everywhere east of the Berlin Wall as architecturally dreary, Plattenbau (pre-fabricated concrete) apartments only account for around 15% of the city’s housing stock.

Compared to other major European capitals, Berlin property is remarkably inexpensive. For example, 89,900 euro ($117,000) buys a well-maintained, 45-square-meter apartment with stucco details in a Prenzlauer Berg Altbau dating from 1902. Prices like that don’t exist anywhere in London or Paris, let alone in their fashionable districts.

I had lunch at Endlos, a cozy brasserie-style restaurant on a street flanking Kollwitzplatz. (43-45 Knaakstrasse). Eavesdropping on conversations, it seemed quite a few diners were involved in IT. Berlin is at the cutting edge of European tech start-ups.

Like me, most chose the daily special: a three-course feast of goose liver on lambs’ lettuce, roast goose with red cabbage and dumplings, then chocolate mousse. At 12.90 euro ($17), incredibly good value. I could have eaten cheaper—many neighborhood places had three-course lunchtime menus from $10 – $13—but roast goose is irresistible.

In GDR times, Prenzlauer Berg was a workers’ quarter but with elements of the subversive, the avant-garde, and the bohemian. Ten minutes walk away, on Schönhauser Allee, the Gothic-looking KulturBrauerei is at the heart of the local cultural scene.

An old brewery with red brick towers and chimneys, its cobbled courtyards once echoed to the sound of rolling beer barrels. Now people come to eat, drink, shop, catch movies, experimental theater and poetry readings.

During the Christmas run-up, the Kulturbrauerei hosts the Scandinavian-themed Lucia market. It’s not remarkably different to Berlin’s other magical Christmas markets, but the hot spiced wine is called Glögg instead of Gluhwein—and lots of Scandinavian woolen gifts are for sale.

But Prenzlauer Berg still offers one taste of Ostalgie—nostalgia for the East German past.

Continue up Schönhauser Allee to Eberswalder U-Bahn station. Under the arches, Konnopke’s Imbiss is a traditional sausage stand that survived both World War Two and the subsequent decades of Communism. Konnopke’s has been in business since 1930. Wrapped inside a bread roll, a $2.50 Currywurst slathered in spicy sauce is gastronomic heaven on a Berlin winter’s night.

Look for more on Berlin and its property market in an issue of International Living magazine coming soon.

Four weeks? I was leaving for Berlin, Germany in four days on a last minute assignment. So there was no chance of the tourist office helping me to get a free hotel stay or a special media rate. These things take time to arrange.

You have to fill in forms, provide credentials.

But I don’t enjoy spending my own money. Not if I can spend someone else’s. After all, travel writers give publicity to a destination which then helps ‘sell’ it to a wider audience. And studies have shown that readers pay far more attention to a travel story than an advertisement.

When on assignment for International Living, I get a travel allowance. But this doesn’t cover any activities or tours I want to take in my own time. On this trip, my brief was to write about real estate, lifestyle and Berlin’s Christmas markets.

But I’d spotted something I really yearned to do—a foray into Berlin’s musical past. During the 70s and 80s when it was still divided, some of my favorite musicians had lived and partied like demons in the city. I wanted to see where David Bowie, Nick Cave and Blixa Bargeld had hung out.

The three-and-a-half hour jaunt with Fritz Music Tours included a visit to the legendary Hansa Studios. I’d never been inside any recording studio, and the Irish rock band U2 had made their Achtung Baby album in the “Hall by the Wall”. It once was literally right beside the Berlin Wall. Musicians could see the armed border guards of an East German watchtower from its windows.

Admittedly, I didn’t expect IL’s editor to thrill at the idea of sending subscribers to Club SO36, an infamous punk hangout. And although I’m a fan, I’d be worried about readers with heart problems encountering Einstürzende Neubauten. This German experimental band—the name means Collapsing New Buildings—use drills and industrial equipment in their performances.

But I reckoned it wouldn’t be too difficult to sell an article either to a musical publication, or a UK newspaper’s travel section—they tend to like offbeat stories.

Trouble was, the private tour cost €45 ($59) per head. I had my husband (aka the “bag-carrier”), with me, who shares many of my musical tastes (though not Einstürzende Neubauten), so it would come to €90. Which is $118. Ouch.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained. So I dashed off an e-mail to Thilo Schmied, an ex-sound engineer who runs the music tours and asked if he could offer a media discount.

Nein. But Thilo gave me a contact name at the Berlin Tourist Office who might possibly be persuaded to fund the tour for us at short notice. Note ”us”. When I’m looking for freebies, the “bag carrier” turns into my “photographer”. I’m not exactly telling untruths—he does shoot videos any time I have to stand in front of the camera.

By now, I really was down to the wire. The e-mail to the tourist office didn’t go until the night before I left for Berlin. But it must have been persuasive. My contact not only agreed to fund the music tour, but also sent around a press pack by private courier to my hotel.

Tourist offices can often do a lot for travel writers—if you give them enough time. For example, I’ve seen everything worth seeing in Barcelona without paying a cent. In Estonia, Tallinn’s tourist office arranged a special private tour for me that wasn’t even on offer to visitors—I wanted to delve into the city’s ghost stories for a Halloween article.

So never be shy about asking if they can help fund all or part of your trip or special activity. It will keep your travel costs down. Of course, you generally need to have a track record as a writer or a definite assignment—and it’s expected that you’ll send them a copy of your story after it has been published.

By the way, the music tour is awesome.

Editor’s Note: Travel writers don’t just get free flights to interesting locations…free stays in expensive hotels…and free meals in top restaurants—they actually get paid to go to these places. Sound like something you could picture yourself doing? This industry is far easier to break into than you might think. At our upcoming Ultimate Event 2012, Steenie will be revealing the secrets of the trade she learned the hard way. Make sure you’re front and center.

You may ask “why Murcia”—a region that’s almost unknown to North Americans. Especially when Spanish property values have slumped. In many places, prices have plummeted 50% and more below their pre-crisis level. Some commentators suggest they may have even further to fall.

But in my view, properties are unlikely to get much lower here. This seems exactly the right time to stake a claim—and here’s why.

You see, this October, Paramount Pictures got the final go-ahead for a $1.5 billion theme park in Murcia to rival Disneyland Paris. Planned opening is in 2015 and the construction will deliver a huge amount of employment. I heard figures of 20,000 jobs mentioned. To serve the expected number of visitors, a brand new international airport is coming into operation next summer. The runways and terminals are built.

There’s a palpable feel of excitement, but at present you can still bag bargains. One place I visited was Camposol, a 15-minute drive from the beaches at Puerto de Mazarron. The new airport is 20 minutes away—around the same distance as the Paramount Park site. Small terraced bungalows (around 645 square feet) are on the market for 49,995 euro ($65,000).

This two-bedroom detached villa-style property with its own pool could be yours for 116,000 euro ($152,000). But that’s the asking price, not selling price.

The agent says an offer of 90,000 euro to 95,000 euro ($117,000 to $123,000) will probably be accepted. Back in 2007, such a property would have cost more than twice that…maybe a lot more.

Camposol is an urbanization—a 15-year-old residential village similar to North American suburbs. With something like 5,000 homes and 3,000 permanent residents, it’s a large and well-established village with its own golf course.

Unlike some smaller urbanizations, there’s almost everything in Camposol for day-to-day living: banks, bars, restaurants, a large supermarket, a computer repair store, hairdressers, real estate agencies, a veterinary surgery, a translation service, a health clinic and a dentist—and undoubtedly much more.

Camposol’s wine store and supermarket are Spanish, but I thought the overall vibe was British—there’s even an Indian restaurant. But if you were thinking of renting a property to those theme park visitors, it’s a sociable and friendly community where many British holidaymakers feel at home. As do the numerous retirees who rent properties and over-winter in this sunny part of Spain.

That said, it’s not only Brits who live at Camposol. It’s an international community and the neighbors are as likely to be Spanish, Scandinavian, French or Russian.

For a town with a more traditionally Spanish feel, I’d suggest Puerto de Mazarron on the coast. It’s still only 30 to 40 minutes away from the theme park site and new airport, and is a favorite with Spanish summer vacationers. Many apartments with sea views are around 1,200 euro to 1,500 euro per square meter. For example, a 70-square-meter (752-square-foot) apartment with a splendid lookout over the port is 99,000 euro ($128,000). And it’s acceptable to make a lower offer on properties here, too.

My full report on Murcian property to buy and rent—and my recommended contacts—will appear in an upcoming issue of International Living magazine.

Editor’s note: Steenie will be at IL’s Ultimate Event in February, along with more than 100 speakers, experts, and IL writers and editors. Every question answered, all plans devised. Find out more here.

I never imagined breakfasting outdoors in December. Not in Europe. Then again, I’ve never visited the Murcia region before.

I could definitely over-winter here. Mid-December, and midday temperatures continue to hit 68F – 70F. Roses are still in bloom; oranges hang from the trees. The temperature falls after sunset, but daytimes are hot enough for wearing shorts, bronzing on the beaches and even swimming if you’re really brave.
Today I’m in Los Alcazares—a seaside town that once had everyone from Phoenician traders to the Romans and the Moors come calling. It’s on the Mar Menor, a silvery-blue lagoon sheltered from the Mediterranean by the skinny La Manga isthmus.

With a Moorish courtyard and the town’s old thermal baths behind, La Encarnacion’s sunny terrace along Paseo de Concha looked the perfect breakfast stop. Skirting the harbor and the dark golden sands, the Paseo is the town’s promenade. In the distance, I can see almost the entire 18-mile length of the isthmus.

Europe’s sunshine doesn’t disappear in winter. It’s hiding away in southern Spain. Largely unknown to foreign travelers, Murcia slots between the regions of Andalucia and Valencia. Strung with beaches, its 156-mile coastline is called the Costa Calida—the warm coast. Summers can be blistering, but winters are really mild.

It’s easy to find winter lets along this coast. 200 euro ($260) seems the average for studio apartments, and two-bedroom bungalows are around 450 euro ($580) monthly. Plus, you can eat out so inexpensively. A three-course lunch—the menu del dia—is $11 to $13 in most places, and includes wine.

After a lunch like that, all I need is tapas in the evening—and tapas bars with interesting snacks are plentiful. Here, many “snacks” are more like meals. Some tapas only cost $2 or $3, but it’s hard to resist the fish. Last night I had a huge plate of chipirones (fried baby squids) for $8. A bottle of fabulous Rioja wine cost me $12…but if I had a home to eat in, I could have got the same wine for just over $5 in the supermarket

With a backdrop of sierras, Puerto de Mazarron is another likeable Murcian seaside town.

It has a couple of tower blocks, but there’s nothing resembling the nasty concrete forest of high-rises that mar other parts of Spain’s Mediterranean coast.

Like Los Alcazares, Puerto de Mazarron doesn’t die in winter—it’s a living, breathing, working town of around 15,000 residents. Some northern Europeans live here, but you can’t mistake you’re in Spain. Including the environs, the number jumps to around 35,000 people so there’s a good choice of supermarkets, shops and a covered market as well as traditional bars and restaurants. The handsome seaport city of Cartagena is only a 30-minute drive or bus ride.

Beaches stretch for miles either side of Puerto de Mazarron. Go east and you eventually hit La Azohía village, a hangout of scuba divers and shoreline fishermen (and women). To the west, Bolnuevo is where the wind has sculpted the rocks into bizarre shapes.

During summer, some of Mazarron’s 30 or so beaches become “themed” areas with a range of free sports and relaxation options. Playa Isla offers book loans and quietness; Playa del Puerto sets up disabled bathing facilities. Volleyballers and soccer players head to Playa Bolnuevo, while Playa Castellar turns into kiddie heaven with monitored activities and play facilities. There’s beach for everybody—even nudists are included.

Editor’s note: Whatever you’re looking for in Europe, Steenie has the answers. When you meet her at the Ultimate Event 2012, you can pick her brains on any European destination that interests you—though the focus of Euro-presentations will be Italy and Spain.

Whether you’re shopping for traditional wooden toys, nutcrackers, tree decorations or unusual gifts, nowhere does Christmas markets quite like Germany. And Berlin, the capital, has over 50 Weihnachtsmärkte to investigate in the four week Advent run-up to Christmas.

So far, I’ve visited four: the markets on Alexanderplatz, Potsdamer Platz (where there’s also an artificial tobaggon run), the Gendarmenmarkt, and the Scandinavian-themed Lucia market.

On one of the city’s most architecturally beautiful squares, the Gendarmenmarkt is my favorite. The food stalls here are really good–for both snacking and buying foodie presents. As you’d expect, the markethas a giant Christmas tree–there’s also a crib, and the churches on the square are illuminated like candle-glow. On the night I visited, there was entertainment too–carol singers, and pantomime skits taking place on a small stage.

I didn’t mean to buy anything–but of course, I did. A jar of walnuts in rose petal honey ad alvender and cinnamon marinade…a bag of apple chips….a magic mushroom and two birds with dazzling silver and crimson plumage for my tree…a pair of stripy woollen tights and a woollen beret.

Oh, and some hand-made greeting cards for next year.

But if you’ve never visited Scandinavia at Christmas, it’s also worth taking a look at the Lucia market. Adorned with white lights shaped like snowflakes, and with a carousel for kiddies, this market is held in the courtyard of an old brewery in Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood. I didn’t sample any elk bratwurst or buy a Finnish ax, but I can definitely recommend Swedish Glögg. Filled with almonds and raisins, it’s like Gluhwein—mulled wine. For an extra kick, try it with a shot of vanilla vodka.

Read more travel articles here.

And then it’s farewell, Romeo.

Like the Marquesa’s last illicit lover, the discarded bedmate plunges through a trap-door into the Well of Oblivion—a pit of sharpened blades. From battlements to dungeons, the walls of Castello Malaspina di Fosdinovo are thick. Nobody can hear his screams…

I’m in northern Tuscany’s Lunigiana, the “Land of 100 Castles”. Originally built in the late 12th century, Fosdinovo is one of its best. Crowning a hilltop, it’s a square, fortress-like structure with inner garden courtyards and gorgeous tapestries. Incredibly gruesome stories, too.

The amorous Marquesa, Cristina Pallavicini Malaspina, lived here in the 17th century. Apparently she had a paranoid fear that aristocratic lovers would betray her. So instead, she slaked her passion by having one-night stands with lusty lads whom nobody would miss. Her murderous reputation may be deserved. After all, why have a trap-door in a bedchamber?

The castle has another three of these deadly traps. So it’s best not to go poking around where you shouldn’t. There may be more still awaiting discovery. Tumbling down a hidden hole and getting skewered by centuries-old sword blades seems a rather unpleasant way to end a vacation to Italy…

Like the Medicis, the Malaspinas weren’t overly scrupulous in how they made problems disappear. The torture room displays a nightmare vision of instruments such as spiked handcuffs, tongue thongs and clamps to crush the head. Some enemies rotted in the dungeons. Others were hung on an iron arm that jutted from a tower wall. And there they stayed until life had fled.

The beauty of the Renaissance was matched by brutality. The violence of the age sometimes even spilled over among the family. One Malaspina baby was kept locked inside a cage-like crib made of iron. The child’s uncles had murdered his father.

As you’d expect, Fosdinovo lays claim to being haunted. Bianca Maria, the errant daughter of Jacopo Malaspina, met a particularly nasty end. Her crime was to fall in love with a peasant. She was initially sent to a convent, but this didn’t stop the lovers meeting again. And so her father walled her up to die of starvation inside the castle. Sharing her fate was a dog, the Malaspina symbol of fidelity, and a wild boar, symbol of rebellion.

That’s not as far-fetched as it sounds. Instances of immuring (walling up) wanton wenches occur throughout medieval Europe. During recent excavations at the castle, chained skeletons belonging to a girl and two animals were unearthed.

You can visit Malaspina di Fosdinovo castle every day except Tuesday. Guided visits are 6 euro. You can also stay here. Including breakfast, room rates start at 100 euro ($133).

Editor’s note: If “Fairytale Europe” is as enchanting to you as it is to Steenie, then mark your diary. The upcoming IL Ultimate Event is the biggest and most important event on your calendar. We’ll cover every destination offering opportunity for the would-be expat, retiree, investor, and traveler right now…including Italy, France and Spain. We’ll have more than 100 experts in attendance—including Steenie.

Recommended Reading:

• How to Fund a Trip to Italy by Creating a “Travel Tour”

• Homes for Under $70,000—and Other Glittering Prizes of Uncharted Italy

• Beyond the Tuscan Obvious: Sculpture, Spas, Sand, and Wilderness

Yes, I know I’ve disparaged “the Costas” in the past. Spain-without-the-Spanish…paunchy northern Europeans overdosing on sun, sex, and cheap booze…hideous plastic donkeys…concrete jungles…acres of lookalike vacation homes.

So why Alicante? Well, there’s a big difference between seaside cities and purpose-built resorts. Alicante is lively, sunny, and inexpensive, for sure. But it’s also charming, fairly sophisticated, and its ambiance is as Spanish as that of Madrid.

A Mediterranean city of over 458,000 people is obviously no secret. But most visitors are Spaniards—the majority of foreigners only encounter Alicante’s airport. There are flights from across Europe, as it’s the gateway to sprawling Benidorm and other Costa Blanca resorts.

Yet Alicante also has splendid beaches—eight in total. San Juan beach alone stretches for over four miles. Below St Barbara’s Castle, an old Moorish fortress, there’s a marina, parks, shady plazas, cinemas, and a theater.

Lined with palm trees and paved with 6.5 million marble tiles, the Explanada is the promenade. It’s perfect for the paseo, the evening stroll when everyone is out-and-about, eating ice cream and chatting outside café-bars. For a cool-down non-alcoholic drink, try iced horchata—made from tiger-nut milk. The city center is also partly pedestrianized, so traffic isn’t a nuisance.

Flanked by the Explanada, El Postiguet is Alicante’s pristine town beach. Like all Spanish beaches, it’s free. If you haven’t got your own paraphernalia, you can rent an umbrella and two sunbeds for $17. Public transport is excellent, and regular buses serve beaches farther from the center.

As Alicante keeps traditional Spanish hours, your body clock may need adjusting. If you want an early lunch, think 2 p.m. Most stores and offices close for the three-hour afternoon siesta. They don’t reopen until 5.00 p.m. for the shopping/work evening session.

My favorite restaurant is Casa Ibarra, cornering Plaza Santissima Faz and Calle Mayor on the old town’s edge. With a choice of starters and mains, the two-course menú del día at lunchtimes is a bargain $14—a bottle of house wine is included.

At night, I don’t go out to eat until 9.30 p.m. or even 10.00 p.m. Lunch is so filling, I usually opt for tapas instead of dinner. Cod or ham croquettes, green peppers and patatas bravas (fried potatoes in spicy sauce) are staples, but you’ll also encounter unusual morsels such as squid stuffed with morcilla (blood pudding).

Depending on choices and portion sizes, a couple can feast well on a tapas selection for $28—sometimes less. In most bars and restaurants, beers cost $1.40 to $2.10 and a bottle of Rioja wine is $11 to $14. There are numerous tapas bars in the modern quarter and Barrio Santa Cruz. With its little houses and flower-filled lanes huddled below the fortress, this is the city’s oldest neighborhood.

But a tapas crawl is only the start of things. By midnight, I’m usually heading to Ruta 13 or El Tributo, a couple of goth/heavy metal bars behind the Mercado Central, the covered food market.

As for the weather, the Costa Blanca climate is arguably the best in Europe. It averages 325 sunny days each year, and humidity is low.

Even on escapes, I’m drawn toward real estate agencies. Prices in Alicante have plummeted since the Spanish market went into free fall. Five years ago, you wouldn’t have got a poky beach studio for $127,589. Nowadays that buys a furnished one-bedroom (484 square feet) with sea views, five minutes from central Alicante.

Within the city, a three-bedroom apartment (968 square feet) on Avenida Salamanca is $170,215. But prices are all over the place, and much depends on a vendor’s need to sell. And $163,175 buys another 968-square-foot apartment at Virgen del Socorro, just 300 yards or so from the beach.

Long-term rentals are plentiful. A two-bedroom furnished apartment (753 square feet) close to beaches in the El Altet suburb is $567 a month. A bijou one-bedroom bungalow (484 square feet) with a small garden and shared pool in a development near Muchavista beach is $539.

See my report in the September issue of International Living for more details and contacts. You can get instant access to the online archive when you subscribe with this link.

You too could get paid for your travel stories. But maybe what’s stopping you is those nagging questions—the ones I always get asked at cocktail parties. Like:

Q: Truthfully, is it easy to get published?

A: Yes, as long as you don’t initially shoot for the stars. Most new writers make the mistake of sending full-length feature stories to the major travel glossies. Your chances of getting published are greatly increased if you concentrate on smaller publications or niche magazines that use travel stories.

Another way to break in is with short ‘postcard’ length pieces such as those in International Living. Numerous publications pay for 200-300 word snippets about restaurants, hotels, new attractions, museums, etc.

Q: Can I realistically make a living at this?

A: I do, and I live in Ireland! And if my home was in Asia or Latin America, my income would stretch a lot further. OK, you’re unlikely to get fabulously rich from travel writing, but I wouldn’t swap my life for any other.

There are many “tricks of the trade” to boost your income. No space to go into details about press trips and getting comped by hotels here, but I’m not called the Queen of the Freebies for nothing.

Q: When you’re a first-time writer, what are the easiest stories to sell?

A: Stories about your own backyard. Editors love “insider knowledge”—and it doesn’t matter if your backyard is Chicago or Ecuador. Everywhere is a travel destination to somebody. Think of how many magazines about your own region you see on newsstands. Editors are always looking for new ideas of where to go and what to do—or a fresh take on old favorites.

Q: What special equipment do you use?

A. Nothing special. Sometimes I travel with a laptop, but I usually take lots of notes and then write up stories when I get home. But I do think a camera is essential. Most editors want photos to illustrate a story—and if you can also provide the photos, you’ve made his/her job easier.

Finally, I’m always asked where I most want to go back to. Well, if you put a gun to my head I’d say Iceland, but really, it’s impossible to answer. I’ve visited so many wonderful places, it’s like trying to choose a favorite wine, book, or piece of music. Most people have limited vacation times. They need to make the difficult decision of picking a single destination, and then hope it works out. But when you’re a professional travel writer, it’s like being given a feast—you get to visit places that few holidaymakers ever do. New Zealand…Eastern Turkey…China. I doubt that I would have ever seen any of them if not for my job.

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to learn more about ways you can pay for your life or travels overseas, sign up for Fund Your Life Overseas, a free e-letter from International Living. Sign up here and we’ll send you a free report: Fund Your New Life Overseas With These 4 Portable Careers.

It has a special walnut route, and the nuts are brand-protected by an AOC appellation just like French wines. Near the chateau-topped village of Castelnaud, there’s even a museum devoted to walnut culture.

On my last visit to the area—the locals call it by its pre-Revolution name of Périgord—I visited a number of traditional markets. Two of the best are the Wednesday market at Piegut-Pluviers and medieval Sarlat-la-Canèda’s renowned Saturday market. If you confined your shopping spree to walnut products alone, you could easily fill a couple of baskets.

The Dordogne does far more with its walnuts than simply attack them with nutcrackers and stick them into a bowl. Walnut oil is for salad dressings—it adds a hint of sweetness—and it’s also used as cooking oil. There are walnut cakes, breads and crunchy macaroon-style biscuits. You can drink walnuts too: walnut wine, liqueurs, aperitifs and  digestifs. The alcoholic base for the green walnuts that get picked in mid-June is usually red wine, brandy or eau de vie.

But walnuts are only the start. Whether it’s for a week or a lifetime, shopping at a traditional market is one of France’s great pleasures.

Here in the Dordogne, country breads include crusty baguettes and pain de miel, sweetened with honey. On one butcher’s stall I saw rilletes, a potted paste of pork used as a spread. There are farm-smoked saucissons (sausages) made from sanglier (wild boar); saucissons flavored with garlic, juniper berries, herbs and much else besides.

Marinated olives—20 different varieties of them. Redcurrants and blackcurrants; honey melons, cherries and early season garriguette strawberries; artichokes and asparagus. The array of cheeses is overwhelming—almost every stall-holder offers samples. Creamy cabécou goat cheese is the Dordogne’s only AOC variety, but there are cheeses from every region. One of my own favorites is Bleu d’Auvergne, which is milder than the more famous Roquefort.

The Dordogne is also a land of ducks and geese. Some farms offer the chance to see the gavage—when ducks are forced-fed with corn to fatten their livers for foie gras (the name means “fat liver”). Animal rights organizations take a dim view of gavage, but I have no problem with it.

Curiously, it wasn’t the French who invented the idea. Ancient Egyptians force-fed geese and ducks with figs—it was the Romans who bought the idea back to Europe. If you do buy foie gras, also pick up a jar of confit d’oignons doux—sweet onion preserve—they go perfectly together.

Other duck products you’ll see at country markets include tins of confit de canard. This is chunks of duck preserved in its own fat, and it’s just as delicious as rosy slices of fresh roast duck. On the butcher’s stall, gésiers are duck gizzards. In restaurants, they’re usually served warm and delicately sliced with a salad—sometimes with smoked duck breast. Admittedly, gizzards—the muscular second stomach of a bird that grinds up indigestible foods—are something of an acquired taste. But you won’t know the taste unless you try.

Truffles are the “black diamonds” of the Dordogne. As with ceps and girondelle mushrooms, fall is when to buy them fresh. However, you’ll find preserved truffles all year ’round—a few shavings transform even a simple omelet into haute cuisine. But they are fairly expensive and in the “treat” category. At Sarlat, the cheapest price I saw for the tiniest jar of truffles was $21.

Even so, imagine being able to shop like this whenever you chose. And with some cracking village houses on the market for under $110,000, why couldn’t you? I’ll share more details from my Dordogne property finds in February at International Living’s Ultimate Event.

Editor’s note: We’re beefing up our Europe presentations like never before at the Ultimate Event 2012: France, Italy, Spain, and Ireland will all be well represented. Come with your toughest questions. We’ll have all the answers. Registration is now open.

I’m glad I persisted. Twenty years down the road, I wouldn’t swap my lifestyle for anything. But the start of the road might have been easier—and the spoils more lucrative—if I’d known these seven things beforehand.

1. Maybe your budget only runs to backpacker hostels. Or even the no-budget horror of park benches. When I was writing a story about Northern Ireland, there was one night where I parked beside a beach, slept in the car and made breakfast on a camping stove. Back then, I didn’t realize there were other options…

So, a few weeks before setting out on a trip, contact the local tourist office or visitor and convention bureau. You’ll need to have a couple of articles published beforehand, but this is the magic door to cutting down expenses. In return for a mention, many local establishments will comp a travel writer. Who doesn’t want free hotel accommodation, free meals and free entry to attractions?

2. Before you can reach any readers and get that paycheck, you need to cross an editor’s drawbridge. Find out their name. Addressing your email/letter to ‘Dear Editor’ is lazy. And they hate it. Which means they’ll hate you, too.

3. Travel stories should not start with your journey to the airport. Ever.

4. With most publications, you’re writing for audiences who want to know why they should visit a place. You’re not writing about yourself—or writing for your friends and family. An editor doesn’t want to know that your partner is called Reg or that after eating gorgonzola cheese he always has nightmares about garden gnomes. Personal observations are often welcome, but go easy on the “me” stuff. The world doesn’t revolve around you.

5. Not everything in guidebooks is fact. (I so wish I hadn’t written that the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur were the tallest towers in the world.) Also bear in mind that restaurants can close, and hotels change hands. Check things out for yourself.

6. Learn to use a camera. Most editors want photos, too—and they often pay extra. Even with a point-and-shoot digital camera, you should at least learn some basics about composition. Many of the photos I sent in with my early stories were hideous. Which is probably why few got used.

7. This tip isn’t only for travel writers. Don’t pack so much! You don’t need all those clothes, shoes and toiletries. I used to take so much junk on trips, I was trudging around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Unless you’re heading somewhere like the Gobi Desert, there’s little you can’t purchase locally if you really need it.

Editor’s note: Steenie will be at the Live and Invest Overseas Conference 2011 in Las Vegas next month to discuss, among other things, how to fund your life overseas with travel writing. And that won’t be the only “fund your life” presentation at this Conference.

You see, this is our “ABC” event for readers who are serious about taking the next step to a dream life overseas. And that includes income opportunities. Join us in Las Vegas and you’ll get:

Every “live overseas” question Answered, a “dream haven” action plan for any Budget, and critical insights into every Country on our beat. Full details here.

Finding property around Italy’s more famous lakes for less than $200,000 is unlikely even in today’s more realistic market. But you can do it here. In Valentano, one of the small towns and villages that ring Lake Bolsena’s 40-mile circumference, I saw some very reasonably priced apartments and villini. A villino is similar to a maisonette and often has a small garden as well as its own entrance.

For example, one 537-square-foot villino is 79,000 euro ($113,000). Most prices are negotiable, and my real estate agent contact says the owner would probably accept 74,000 euro ($106,000).

If you’re traveling to central Italy, do try and spare some time to see Lake Bolsena for yourself. Surrounded by poppy meadows and Etruscan archaeological sites, it’s within easy reach of so many fascinating places. Not only Rome itself, but also Viterbo (the City of the Popes), Orvieto in Umbria and glorious Siena. The Tuscan border is less than 20 miles from the western side of the lake.

Flower festivals and fish festivals, wine festivals with music and dancing on the piazza—the settlements around Lake Bolsena showcase small town Italy at its very best. So it’s odd that so few non-Italians include this area in their travel plans.

Along with the requisite castle, cobbles and everywhere-a-flowerpot, Bolsena town also offers up catacombs and miracle tales. Its medieval streets spill down to the lakeside where fishermen land catches of pike, eel and perch, which get supplied to local restaurants.

Although there probably won’t be many Italians lazing on a beach at this time of year, most lakeside villages have their own stretch of sand and watersport facilities. Boats also take visitors out to Bisentina island where heretical priests were once imprisoned for life in a dank cave cell—the Malta dei Papi. Tiny Martana island is where Amalasunta, the last Queen of the Goths, met her end in 535 AD. She was murdered on her husband’s instructions.

So many places here are touched by history’s curiosities. The vineyards around another of the lake’s towns, Montefascione, produce one of Italy’s most oddly-named white wines: Est! Est!! Est!!! The story of how it got its name revolves around a German bishop, Johannes Fugger, who had a legendary love of wine. On his travels, he always dispatched his servant Martino ahead to check for good cellars. When he found something to please the bishop, Martino marked Est (Latin shorthand for vinum est bonum, “the wine is good”) on the door

In advance of the bishop’s journey from Augsburg to Rome, Martino performed his usual tasting duties. He was so enthused by the wine at one Montefiascone inn that he wrote Est! Est!! Est!!! on the door. The bishop never got any further and lived out the rest of his days in Montefiascone. Maybe much of the tale is apocryphal, but his tomb is in the church of St. Flavio. I sat at a little trattoria one night and raised a glass to his memory. I love the idea of a wine that stopped a bishop in his tracks.

I tell you more about properties, Lake Bolsena and other gems of the Maremma region in the current issue of International Living magazine. Don’t miss it, because it could be your dream Italian location.

I’m glad I persisted. Twenty years down the road, I wouldn’t swap my lifestyle for anything. But the start of the road might have been easier—and the spoils more lucrative—if I’d known these seven things beforehand.

1. Maybe your budget only runs to backpacker hostels. Or even the no-budget horror of park benches. When I was writing a story about Northern Ireland, there was one night where I parked beside a beach, slept in the car and made breakfast on a camping stove. Back then, I didn’t realize there were other options…

So, a few weeks before setting out on a trip, contact the local tourist office or visitor and convention bureau. You’ll need to have a couple of articles published beforehand, but this is the magic door to cutting down expenses. In return for a mention, many local establishments will comp a travel writer. Who doesn’t want free hotel accommodation, free meals and free entry to attractions?

2. Before you can reach any readers and get that paycheck, you need to cross an editor’s drawbridge. Find out their name. Addressing your email/letter to ‘Dear Editor’ is lazy. And they hate it. Which means they’ll hate you, too.

3. Travel stories should not start with your journey to the airport. Ever.

4. With most publications, you’re writing for audiences who want to know why they should visit a place. You’re not writing about yourself—or writing for your friends and family. An editor doesn’t want to know that your partner is called Reg or that after eating gorgonzola cheese he always has nightmares about garden gnomes. Personal observations are often welcome, but go easy on the “me” stuff. The world doesn’t revolve around you.

5. Not everything in guidebooks is fact. (I so wish I hadn’t written that the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur were the tallest towers in the world.) Also bear in mind that restaurants can close, and hotels change hands. Check things out for yourself.

6. Learn to use a camera. Most editors want photos too—and they often pay extra. Even with a point-and-shoot digital camera, you should at least learn some basics about composition. Many of the photos I sent in with my early stories were hideous. Which is probably why few got used.

7. This tip isn’t only for travel writers. Don’t pack so much! You don’t need all those clothes, shoes and toiletries. I used to take so much junk on trips, I was trudging around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Unless you’re heading somewhere like the Gobi Desert, there’s little you can’t purchase locally if you really need it.

Editor’s Note: As part of the Ultimate Get Paid to Travel Plan, our friends at AWAI Travel are including a bonus series of video and audio tutorials to help you get started. This resource is the shortcut to becoming a paid travel writer that Steenie wishes she had. But remember—time is running out—this offer is only good through midnight tomorrow, Saturday. Find out more here.

Dinner time on the Chinese island of Hainan Dao, but I don’t feel hungry. When presented with what resembles the diseased body parts of Things From Outer Space, your appetite tends to vanish.

Abandoning chopsticks, I try using a spoon to break off a wartless section of this seafood delicacy. (Cast-iron guts or not, even I cannot chew on warts.) This proves very frustrating. The quivering sliver scoots off the spoon, jives across the table, and escapes onto the floor. I spot a passing waiter giggling.

Although I decided against the curiously translated “fungal infection of the hand of a goose,” don’t accuse me of being cowardly. Not after ordering sea cucumbers (not to be mistaken for crunchy green vegetables). They’re slug-like creatures that inhabit ocean beds. Undoubtedly because of their phallic shape, they allegedly possess aphrodisiac qualities.

Enthusing about local food is sometimes impossible. I’d be lying if I said these ocean-going cucumbers are sensationally delicious. I’d advise sticking with tomato omelets…sweet and sour pork…

Hainan Dao (Dao means island) covers over 13,000 square miles. It’s a sub-tropical island of palm trees, banana plantations, forests, mountains, and golden beaches to the south.

Before visiting those beaches, don’t miss Haikou, Hainan’s capital. One part of the city is palm-lined boulevards and new concrete high-rises; the other features crumbling colonial architecture and narrow laneways with rickshaw drivers, tea houses, barefoot kids and outdoor food markets.

The best old-quarter market runs between the streets of Xinhua Lu and Bo’ai Beilu. Piglets get roasted on the sidewalk. Dried snakes are hung up like walking sticks. You’ll see women fattening up dove-like birds with a baby’s bottle complete with rubber teat. There are live tortoises in plastic bowls…all kinds of fresh and dried seafood including sharks fins and seahorses…skinned gray creatures that look suspiciously like dogs.

All of these things are for sale, and for a travel writer with a sadistic editor, all for eating.

But it’s a good thing I have IL as an outlet. Most U.S. publications tend to want less wacky experiences.

Travel writing can be a great way to defray your vacation costs and—when you have a handful of published stories to your name—can even get you invited on paid-for “press trips.”

Here’s a tip for would-be writers: When you’re starting out, it’s easier to get published in smaller publications rather than the big travel glossies. OK, smaller magazines don’t generally pay upward of $1 per word, but it’s a great way to build up your credentials.

When I was starting, I had travel articles published in everything from magazines for horse enthusiasts to magazines for military families. Just think how many stories you could come back with from China. It’s simply a case of finding the right place for your stories.

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to learn more about flexible, work-anywhere ways you can pay for your life overseas, sign up for Fund Your Life Overseas, a free e-letter from International Living. Sign up here and we’ll send you a free report: Fund Your New Life Overseas With These 4 Portable Careers.

Yes, I know I’ve disparaged “the Costas” in the past. Spain-without-the-Spanish…paunchy northern Europeans overdosing on sun, sex, and cheap booze…hideous plastic donkeys…concrete jungles…acres of look-alike vacation homes.

So why Alicante? Well, there’s a big difference between seaside cities and purpose-built resorts. Alicante is lively, sunny, and inexpensive, for sure. But it’s also charming, fairly sophisticated, and its ambience is as Spanish as that of Madrid.

A Mediterranean city of over 458,000 people is obviously no secret. But most visitors are Spaniards—the majority of foreigners only encounter Alicante’s airport. There are flights from across Europe, as it’s the gateway to sprawling Benidorm and other Costa Blanca resorts.

Yet Alicante also has splendid beaches—eight in total. San Juan beach alone stretches for over four miles. Below St Barbara’s Castle, an old Moorish fortress, there’s a marina, parks, and shady plazas, cinemas, and a theater.

Lined with palm trees and paved with 6.5 million marble tiles, the Explanada is the promenade. It’s perfect for the paseo, the evening stroll when everyone is out and about, eating ice cream and chatting outside café-bars. For a cool-down non-alcoholic drink, try iced horchata—made from tiger-nut milk. The city center is also partly pedestrianized, so traffic isn’t a nuisance.

Flanked by the Explanada, El Postiguet is Alicante’s pristine town beach. Like all Spanish beaches, it’s free. If you haven’t got your own paraphernalia, you can rent an umbrella and two sun-beds for $17. Public transport is excellent, and regular buses serve beaches farther from the center.

As Alicante keeps traditional Spanish hours, your body clock may need adjusting. If you want an early lunch, think 2 p.m. Most stores and offices close for the three-hour afternoon siesta. They don’t reopen until 5 p.m. for the shopping/work evening session.

My favorite restaurant is Casa Ibarra, cornering Plaza Santissima Faz and Calle Mayor on the old town’s edge. With a choice of starters and mains, the two-course menú del día at lunchtimes is a bargain $14—a bottle of house wine is included. Homemade classics often include gazpacho (chilled tomato soup) and paella. And fish fans won’t go wrong with merluza (hake) or emperador (swordfish).

At night, I don’t go out to eat until 9.30 p.m. or even 10 p.m. Lunch is so filling, I usually opt for tapas instead of dinner. Cod or ham croquettes, green peppers and patatas bravas (fried potatoes in spicy sauce) are staples, but you’ll also encounter unusual morsels such as squid stuffed with morcilla (blood pudding).

Depending on choices and portion sizes, a couple can feast well on a tapas selection for $28—sometimes less. In most bars and restaurants, beers cost $1.40 to $2.10 and a bottle of Rioja wine is $11 to $14. There are numerous tapas bars in the modern quarter and Barrio Santa Cruz. With its little houses and flower-filled lanes huddled below the fortress, this is the city’s oldest neighborhood.

But a tapas crawl is only the start of things. By midnight, I’m usually heading to Ruta 13 or El Tributo, a couple of goth/heavy-metal bars behind the Mercado Central, the covered food market. Few music bars and clubs get going until the wee hours, so the Alicante lifestyle definitely suits creatures of the night.

As for the weather, the Costa Blanca climate is arguably the best in Europe. It averages 325 sunny days each year, and humidity is low. Sea bathing is generally May to October, but I’ve seen sun-worshippers on Alicante’s beaches in March.

The Property Market in Spain
Even on escapes, I’m drawn toward real estate agencies. Prices in Alicante have plummeted since the Spanish market went into free fall. Five years ago, you wouldn’t have got a poky beach studio for $127,589. Nowadays that buys a furnished one-bedroom (484 square feet) with sea views, five minutes from central Alicante.

Within the city, a three-bedroom apartment (968 square feet) on Avenida Salamanca is $170,215. But prices are all over the place, and much depends on a vendor’s need to sell. $163,175 buys another 968-square-foot apartment at Virgen del Socorro, just 300 yards or so from the beach. See here for more.

Spain’s building frenzy resulted in a massive overhang of unsold properties. Alicante’s square-foot average is currently $244 but even some new-builds on the northern outskirts are under $132 per square foot.

Long-term rentals are plentiful. A two-bedroom furnished apartment (753 square feet) close to beaches in the El Altet suburb is $567 a month. A bijou one-bedroom bungalow (484 square feet) with a small garden and shared pool in an urbanization near Muchavista beach is $539. See here for more.

Residency in Spain

Spain allows U.S. and Canadian citizens to stay as tourists for up to 90 days out of every six months. If you want to stay longer or live full-time in Spain, you must apply for a residence visa.

Madrid-based lawyer Margaret Hauschild Rey says that, for residency, you need to show a clean police record from the country where you live now, submit copies of your passport, and, most importantly, show that you have the funds to support yourself without working in Spain.

At present that means about $3,000 a month for an individual. In addition, you need about $760 for each dependent. For more details, see here.

Editor’s Note: This article was taken from a past issue of International Living’s monthly magazine. To get full access to all past and future articles and to receive the magazine in the mail or online each month, you can subscribe here.

Read more articles from our sample issue here.

Well, no surprise that my pronunciation of his town is wrong. Although I’m here to see real estate, what I really want to do is eat.

Wednesday is market day in Piégut-Pluviers, a town in the north of Aquitaine’s Dordogne département in France. A French country market is a gastronomic Garden of Eden, so leaving these stalls of foie gras, saucissons and cheeses feels like being cast into the wilderness. To compensate, I buy some apricots bursting with the taste of summer.

For the Dordogne’s inhabitants, good food and wine are normal pleasures—they aren’t compelled to gluttonize an entire market’s worth of produce in a few days. Such luxury could be yours, too. Many homes in this tranquil corner of southwest France are downright cheap. Habitable village houses with small gardens start at around $92,000.

The Dordogne has a distinct fairy-tale quality, stoked with old tales of alchemists and man-eating wolves. Set in a landscape of vineyards and sunflower fields, many of its castles have those weird witch’s hat turrets that always remind me of Rapunzel. Its villages are of the Goose Girl variety, and there are even stalactite caves made for Snow White and her dwarves.

Drowsing behind pale blue shutters, traditional village houses usually have beamed wooden ceilings. Farmhouses of honey-colored limestone come with steeply-pitched roofs of tawny tiles or lauze stone slabs.

One property I viewed was a 16th-century fermette (small farm) with an ivy-covered tower. It’s $198,000, but Daniel Benoit, the owner of Piégut Immobilier, says an offer of $169,000 would probably be accepted.

The house still requires some work—it currently only has three rooms—but it’s habitable and should satisfy any romantic’s dream. Land amounts to almost two acres. An artist currently owns it and, seeing the garden, you can tell. Creative dolmens, homes for sprites…even a woodland space awaiting the arrival of Brigitte Bardot!

The floweriness of the Dordogne’s villages is astounding. Sometimes it’s a giant splash of blue and pink hydrangea bushes that catches your eye. Cottages that aren’t draped in wisteria or climbing rambler roses usually have at least a pot of geraniums. And lavender doesn’t only grow in Provence.

Near the town of Thiviers, St Jean de Côle village blooms all the way from its hump-backed stone bridge to its 15th-century chateau. The venue for flower festivals and classical concerts on summer evenings, it’s officially one of France’s most beautiful villages. Quite a few houses here are half-timbered. The Herman de Graaf agency has a well-maintained, three-bedroom townhouse with a small garden on the village square for $241,500.

But St Jean de Côle is something special—an anomaly. In less high-profile villages and rural areas, similar properties with gardens go for between $125,000 and $213,000.

For decades, the Dordogne and its edge-of-a-dream landscapes was a hot location for British buyers. It still is for holidaymakers—I heard plenty of English accents. But times have changed. In some areas, prices have fallen by around 25% since their 2005 to 2008 heyday.

Here’s part of the reason why. For some Britons, mortgage payments for a second home in France are proving too hard a stretch in the current financial climate. And for those on fixed retirement pensions, sterling’s weakness against the euro means their spending power doesn’t go as far as it used to. They’re willing to bargain.

Now the market may be reviving from its recent doldrums. Cate Carnduff of the Hermann de Graaf agency says they’ve seen an increased interest from Belgian and Dutch buyers over the past year. They’re buying up both inexpensive village houses with gardens and luxury properties with substantial tracts of land.

The Lay of the Land

The Dordogne is still known locally by its pre-Revolution name of Périgord. The province neatly divides into four quarters. They’re color-coded black, white, purple, and green.

From Bergerac’s vineyards to the prehistoric sites around Les Eyzies and Montignac, few places aren’t attractive. Almost every loop and bend of its web of rivers reveals a perched village, a medieval town, or the turrets of a chateau.

The French and the English once battled over Aquitaine. The entire region is full of tales of the Hundred Years’ War of the 14th and 15th centuries. Many towns are bastide towns—the “new” fortified settlements of the Middle Ages. Laid out in a grid pattern, they usually have an arcaded square with a market at the center.

Périgord Noir (“Black”) is linked to oak woods and truffles. It takes in important prehistoric sites including the Lascaux Caves and some incredibly photogenic stretches of the Dordogne River. Then there’s the “art city” of Sarlat-la-Canéda with its massive Saturday market and more heritage buildings than anywhere else in France.

The number of castles open to visitors is overwhelming, and villages like Beynac and Domme (the Acropolis of Périgord) are so architecturally perfect they don’t seem quite real. However, Black Périgord is quite pricey for buyers seeking country cottages with gardens, especially around Sarlat-la-Canéda.

That said, scout around and you may find some village cheapies. Many real estate agencies have offices on and around Sarlat’s Avénue Thiers. Immobilier du Futur has a bijou one-bedroom stone house in Domme for $155,500—but there’s no garden.

One-bedroom apartments in Sarlat start at around $86,500, but price depends on living space. $115,000 is more realistic for one of 580 square feet. Long-term rentals start at $450 per month. Look under louer (“rentals”) on the agency’s website.

Périgord Blanc (“White”) centers around Périgueux and the limestone plain. Périgueux is a historic city with Roman remains, but traffic is frustrating. Plus it’s ringed by some ugly agglomerations of mega-shopping centers and light industry. Obviously people have to work somewhere, but it wouldn’t be my choice as a place to relocate or buy a second home.

Named for the purple of the grapes, Périgord Pourpre (Purple) is far more tranquil. I started off my trip in Bergerac—both a charming medieval town and a wine classification. Its western neighbor is the better-known vineyard country of Bordeaux, but wines here can be just as good.

Purple Périgord has numerous bastide towns and villages. One is Eymet, a charmer of stone cottages, half-timbered houses, the remains of a feudal castle and a traditional Thursday market. In this part of Périgord, few restored village houses with gardens go for much less than $184,000. Eymet is only 16 miles from Bergerac airport, served by budget carriers from northern Europe. Local English-speaking agencies include Agence-eleonor.com.

Green Périgord has the best bargains. A land of hills, oak woods and rivers wrapped around the main town of Nontron, it’s as verdant as its name. It doesn’t receive the same weight of visitors as the other three “colors,” but it isn’t lacking in attractions.

I mentioned Piégut-Pluviers, Saint Jean de Côle and Thiviers, Périgord’s “foie gras” capital. But there’s also Brantôme, a stunner of a small riverbank town. Jumilhac-le-Grand has a castle steeped in tales of alchemy and gold-panning in its rivers. Excideuil is another market town with a castle and links to the Knights Templar. My recommended contacts here are Piegut-immobilier.fr and Herman de Graaf at Immobilier-dordogne.com.

My initial contact with the Piégut-Pluviers agency was through Sextantproperties.com. This U.K. agency links buyers with a network of registered English-speaking estate agents in the Dordogne, the rest of Aquitaine, and other French regions.

Steenie’s Three Top Bargains

Near Thiviers is a restored village house with a small garden. Living space amounts to approximately 989 square feet. Plus there’s a cellar, some convertible attic space, and an adjoining barn. Price: $109,000.

You’ll find a restored farmhouse of approximately 1,397 square feet with outbuildings, a courtyard, and a small garden near Jumilhac Le Grand going for $167,000.

Near Brantôme, a modern two-bedroom bungalow with covered patio, garage, and approximately half an acre of land costs $220,000.

And some things to know:

• Property taxes. Count on $1,130 to $1,400 annually
• The advertised price almost always includes agency fees
• If you’re looking for an apartment, T1/T2/T3, etc., refers to the total number of rooms excluding kitchens and bathrooms. A T2 is a one-bedroom.

Editor’s Note: This article was taken from a past issue of International Living’s monthly magazine. To get full access to all past and future articles and to receive the magazine in the mail or online each month, you can subscribe here.

Read more articles from our sample issue here.

And the colors! Acres of corn poppies—a scarlet coverlet embroidered with purple, white, and gold bouquets. The urge to find some paints and splash the scene onto canvas was overwhelming.

The Latin phrase festina lente (make haste slowly) suits the Maremma in Italy. It’s as if the air compels you to slow down and really savor Italy’s sweet life. But why savor it only on vacation? A move-into village house could be yours for $63,000. And consider this: You’d only be a 90-minute drive from Rome.

The Maremma is an old name for southern Tuscany and northern Lazio. Borders aren’t definitive, but its center is Grosseto province. Although the city of Grosseto itself isn’t overburdened with charm, everywhere else makes up for it.

Drowsing under low hills, the Maremma’s hinterland is every bit as dreamy as central Tuscany. Threaded with wine routes, this is also a realm of stone farmhouses and cypress trees; of castles and medieval villages on a blue horizon. Yet relatively few foreign travelers come to explore. Maybe they think nothing exists south of Siena.

Much of the coast comes under the Maremma National Park’s protection. Veined with spaghetti-thin roads, the park is full of birds. I’d never glimpsed a bee-eater before, but here were flocks of them. With their turquoise breasts and amber wings, it was like watching jewels in flight.

Only a scattering of seaside towns punctuate the undeveloped beaches that stretch for miles between Cecina and Tarquinia in Lazio. San Vincenzo and castle-topped Castiglione della Pescaia were my two favorites.

Escaping history is impossible in Italy, but I never want to. Maremma was the heartland of the mysterious Etruscans. The echoes of these people are everywhere. Around 6,000 years ago, way before Ancient Rome’s glory days, they were building cities here, and necropolises, even roadways hollowed from tufa rock.

A Sampler of Treasure Towns

Famed for its hot springs, Saturnia was named to honor the pagan god Saturn. There’s a luxurious spa outside the town, but I joined locals at a spot called Gorello. There’s no charge to use the natural thermal pools here. You’ll emerge feeling great and reeking of sulfur, but the waterscapes of stepped cascades are surreal. Easy to see why the site was sacred to Romans and Etruscans. (See my video here.)

Suvereto is a drop-dead-gorgeous walled town where you can discover first-hand—and neck—how miscreants felt when sentenced to punishment by pillory. Along with a dilemma of enticing restaurants, gastronomy shops sell wine, olive oil, and specialties like lentils, beans, and farra—a grain that goes into winter broths.

On via Matteoti, Antica Osteria dei Tre Briganti (“Inn of the Three Brigands”) looked worth investigating. Seeing the menu, I had a craving for cinghiale, a wild boar stew simmered with olives and served with polenta. With a small carafe of house red, my lunch cost $22.

Despite the “maritime” tag, Massa Marittima is around 15 miles from the sea. Graced with palaces and gargoyled churches, it’s the Maremma’s art town. Oddities include a medieval mural of a tree hung with phalluses. Annoyingly, it was under restoration during my visit, but I saw a copy.

If such things intrigue you, the mural should be on display again by summer’s end. The tree’s 25 strange “fruits” dangle from branches, snuggle inside birds’ nests, and two women even fight over one implausibly-sized specimen. An Italian academic claims it depicts witchcraft practices.

Belief in spellcraft was rife during the Middle Ages. Manciano was another cauldron of activity. It has a curious saying that translates as “Manciano, the home of witches, they’re wherever you look.”

With its houses teetering above a gorge, the first glimpse of Pitigliano is like a forgotten fragment of legend. Along with Sovana and Surano, it’s one of the three “tufa towns.” It was once known as Little Jerusalem because in the 15th and 16th centuries, almost a quarter of Pitigliano’s population was Jewish. Reminders of those days still exist in the old ghetto.

Take hiking boots if you aim to meander Pitigliano’s Vie Cave, Etruscan roads hollowed from the rock. Cavern-like in places, some were still in use up until 50 years ago by farmers and their donkeys.

Populonia is a tiny but perfectly-preserved fortress settlement. The fortress was built with stones from the old Etruscan city (there’s an archaeology park here) to defend the coast from Barbary pirates. The drive up to the village gives giddying views over the Gulf of Baratti and its half-moon beach. So allow time for a dip.

Across the border in Lazio, the Maremma Laziale includes placid Lago di Bolsena. The lake is girdled with medieval villages and stretches of beach for summer bathing. I was with a real estate agent on this day, so had little time for poking into the past. But Bolsena village has catacombs under St Cristina’s Basilica and a chapel of miracles where it’s claimed the communion wafers once dripped blood.

You can literally eat history at Trattoria del Moro in Bolsena (Piazza Dante Alighieri).  The house specialty is Anguilla alla Vernaccia, eel cooked in white wine.  In his Divine Comedy, Dante sends one Pope to Purgatory for his gluttonous appetite for eels.

Buy a Piece of La Dolce Vita

Daniele Pettinari of Castrum Tuscany took me to view properties on both sides of the regional border. The agency’s seven Maremma offices cover different areas of Tuscany and Lazio. Daniele manages the Manciano branch.

In general, Lazio properties are around 30% less than comparable homes in the Tuscan Maremma. One stop was Cellere, a 15-minute drive from Lake Bolsena and approximately 90 minutes from Rome. With only 1,400 inhabitants, it has a village-like tranquillity. The bar on the square holds my record for Italy’s cheapest espresso, 83 cents.

I saw a 484-square-foot house here for $77,000. It’s trattabile, which means offers are acceptable. Daniele and his Cellere office colleague reckoned the vendor would take $63,000. Houses at this price are usually small, but fit the bill as vacation homes. In the town of Canino, the owners are seeking $68,000 for a 646-square-foot house, but it requires an additional $17,000 spent on new electrics and flooring.

Properties around Lake Bolsena seem very reasonably priced. A 538-square-foot villino, similar to a maisonette and with a small garden, is $110,000. You could probably shave this down to $103,000—there’s little that isn’t trattabile.

In the Tuscan Maremma, prices depend on proximity to the coast. The Mediterranean is still a glittering prize. Manciano’s square-foot price averages is $185, but on the coast and Argentario peninsula, it’s $389 to $519 per squarefoot. Abitare is an English-speaking agency in San Vincenzo, a seaside town near Populonia. $321,000 for a 753-square-foot apartment is typical.

Thanks to its thermal springs, Saturnia is also a hotspot. So too is lovely Suvereto. Properties here generally fetch $325 to $390 per square foot.

How to Find the Maremma

One reason the Maremma escapes notice is the lack of international flights. There’s talk of budget carrier Ryanair commencing flights from other European cities to Grosseto, but it hasn’t happened yet. For North Americans, flying into Rome makes the most sense.

Although the Autostrada from Florence to Rome bypasses the Maremma, better links to this north-south artery are underway. Depending on the approach route, many towns are already within a 90-minute to two-hour drive of Rome, Pisa, or Florence.

During May, many people were enjoying the beaches, and eating outside was a pleasure. But summer and fall are lovely, too—the grape harvest is in September. October brings chestnut festivals, mushroom hunts, and truffle fairs.

The Best Countryside Sleeps

I rented one of Agriturismo Peretti’s self-catering cottages. Priced at $98 a night, it could have slept three. It’s handily located for forays throughout Grosseto province. The small towns of Fonteblanda and Magliano-in-Toscana are only a 10-minute drive. Sylvia and Andrea also provide bed and breakfast in their farmhouse—$91 for doubles.

For me, the dolce vita was lolling on the patio at sundown with a glass of Morellino di Scansano, the local red wine. Doves cooed in trees, the odd lizard scurried across warm tiles. I didn’t cook, but concocting simple suppers was easy. Even I can’t do much damage to salami studded with fennel seeds, pecorino sheep’s cheese, and a tomato and basil salad dressed with pale green olive oil. See here for more agriturismo options.

Editor’s Note: This article was taken from a past issue of International Living’s monthly magazine. To get full access to all past and future articles and to receive the magazine in the mail or online each month, you can subscribe here.

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Known as the “Etruscan Coast,” golden beaches fringe the Maremma—the historic name for part of southern Tuscany and northern Lazio. Overlooked by the ancient Etruscan stronghold of Populonia, this beach is on the Golfo di Baratti.

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On safari in the jungles of southern India! The sun hadn’t risen, but like the monkeys chattering in the cashew trees, I was already awake. Lolling in a teak four-poster bed, I was anticipating the day ahead.

To be honest, anticipating it both with excitement and a little dread. Elephants and goodness knows what other creatures lurked out there.

But I remember thinking how lucky I was. Privileged, even. Back home, people woke to routine days in offices, shops, and factories. The kind of mundane life I once had.

Not any more. When I tell people that travel writing really is the best job in the world, I’m not kidding. For most folks, a safari is a vacation-of-a-lifetime dream. So too is India. Yet here I was, being paid to experience it—and in luxury style, too.

Deep inside what is now Nagarhole National Park, Kabini Lodge has an illustrious history. Lord Mountbatten, the last Viceroy of India, stayed here in 1920. Along with his traveling companion, Britain’s then Prince of Wales, they were guests of the Maharajah of Mysore. Kabini served as the Maharajah’s private hunting lodge.

Back then, this three-day/two-night adventure should have cost around $600. But as a travel writer, I didn’t pay a cent. The people at Kabini Lodge hosted me (and my husband) entirely for free.

While I was musing away, there came a soft knock at the door of our colonial bungalow. Beaming a “Good morning, Missy,” a dapper retainer—it’s impossible to use any other word—delivered a pot of tea and digestive biscuits.

A proper breakfast would come later—it was only 6 a.m.—but I appreciated the civilized start.

Although actress Goldie Hawn spotted four tigers during her two-night visit here, no big cats put in an appearance for us. But we managed to see plenty from our open-top jeep: herds of elephants, gaur (Indian bison), spotted deer, monkeys galore.

Safaris—or game drives as they say here—took place in the (very) early morning and late afternoon. One morning we sailed in a coracle made from buffalo hide along the Kabini River on the lookout for crocodiles and birdlife.

Crocodiles, for sure! I also remember seeing fish eagles, white-breasted kingfishers, and scores of wading birds. Around 350 bird species, wild peacocks included, make their home at Kabini.

Stoked up with delicious south Indian food, the entire experience was magical. But it wasn’t only spying a mongoose right outside the bungalow that made it feel as if I had fallen into one of Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Stories.

As the tangerine sun went down on the first night, I got a message. The Lodge’s resident Director, Colonel John Wakefield, had invited us to join him in his private quarters in the Viceroy’s Lodge for drinks.

I’m not used to being addressed as “My dear girl.” But to Colonel Wakefield, I probably did seem fairly girlish…

Ruddy-faced and twinkly-eyed, dressed in a camouflage jacket, the Colonel was born in India in 1916. The days of the Raj (British rule) were still in full swing. This was a time of tea planters, memsahibs, and tiger shoots.

Despite his advanced age, his memory was needle-sharp. An interview? It was more like finding a story gold-mine. Have you ever met anyone who collected village taxes for a Maharajah at the age of 16?

Apart from an English boarding school education and Army service, the Colonel had spent all his life in India. After his military days were over in 1955, he returned to organizing safaris. In particular, tiger shoots. His thinking changed when a survey estimated that India probably only had 1,800 tigers left.

To most people, shooting tigers for fun seems shocking nowadays. But until 1972′s Wildlife Protection Act, India clung onto this legacy of the Raj. Many foreign visitors demanded to view wildlife, especially tigers, down the sights of a gun barrel.

This is how I opened “Drinking gin with the Colonel,” one of my stories for International Living:

“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth—I was born with a gun in my hand.

“Now 90 years old and still fond of a whisky, Colonel John Wakefield tells me he bagged his first tiger at the tender age of 9. He also whips out the photo to prove it: a proud little boy—and one very dead tiger.”

Writers often gain special access to people as well as places. The time I spent with Colonel Wakefield ranks as one of the most spellbinding three hours of my travel writing career.

He shared so many memories: his childhood on a royal estate (his father arranged tiger shoots for the Maharajah of Bijar)… what India was like under Partition… his abiding love of elephants… his conversion from hunter to conservationist.

Outside of India, maybe few knew of the Colonel—but I wouldn’t have missed hearing his stories for anything. Sadly he passed away in April at the age of 95. The end of an era, indeed.

Editor’s Note: The most-published travel writer that International Living works with is Steenie Harvey. But what often surprises readers is that Steenie has no formal training as a travel writer…or any kind of writer. She left school when she was 15 and freely admits that she worked just about every “bad job” going before she discovered that someone would pay her to travel.

If getting paid to travel is something that interests you, sign up for the free teleseminar that’s taking place soon.

It might be yours, too. The reality is that Pistoia, Italy is an attractive and livable city with a wealth of medieval curiosities. My guess is that it gets neglected because of its proximity to Florence—only a 40-minute drive away. Florence has so many treasures of its own, it seems perverse to travel even a short distance for what sounds a very unpromising day out.

Pistoia’s residents probably welcome the dearth of foreign visitors. For one thing, prices in bars and restaurants aren’t pitched at rook-the-tourist level. Try getting a cup of coffee for a euro on the terrace of a cafe-bar in central Florence! You can here. And wouldn’t you want shops that sold useful things like groceries and electrical appliances, not kitschy souvenirs?

As in most Italian cities, there’s more than a centro storico. Many of Pistoia’s 90,000 inhabitants live in modern suburbs. Beyond lie acres of plant and tree nurseries—this is Italy’s horticultural heart.

Average property prices aren’t easily calculated, but most apartments are in the 2,000 to 3,000 euro ($2,900 to $4,350) per square meter range. That’s around half the cost of Florence. One of the real estate contacts I met on this trip has furnished one-bedroom apartments to rent for 450 euro ($650) and 500 euro ($730) a month.

I don’t know where Pistoia’s “gloom” is supposed to be. The city has jazz bars, Blues Festivals, and jousting tournaments. And its medieval alleyways are no more shadowy than in other Tuscan cities. They lead into sun-splashed piazzas where color jumps out everywhere.

Renaissance palaces are painted pink and ochre. On Piazza del Duomo, the cathedral is banded with green and white marble and contains one of Italy’s most magnificent silver altars. So too is the octagonal Baptistery. This square is the site of the Saturday market. Bargains include good quality men’s shirts for $7 and ladies sweaters for $15.

A few steps away, on Piazza della Sala, there’s nothing drab about the daily fruit and vegetable market. At its center is a handsome marble well, the Well of the Lioncub, a gift from the Medicis. The townsfolk of former times may have taken the name too literally. This was once the meat market. Until the practice was banned in the 15th century, the well was where to chuck any unwanted bits of beast.

My favorite art work is at the medieval hospital, Ospedale del Ceppo.

Founded in 1277, it was named after a ceppo (tree stump) where alms for the poor were left. Along its facade is Giovanni della Robbia’s sumptuous frieze of glazed majolica panels. Dating from the early 1500s, the colorful figures depict a concept known as the Seven Corporal Acts of Mercy: clothing the naked, housing the pilgrim, caring for the sick, etc.

As for Pistoia’s murderous reputation, that’s old history. It stems from the rule of the Guelphs, when the city topped the Tuscan league table for bloodshed and violence. Michelangelo described them as the “enemies of heaven.”

Machiavelli also recounted an incident of wooden swordplay where one child got slightly injured. Saying “sword wounds are cured with iron, not with words,” the boy’s vengeful Guelph father hacked off the other child’s hand.

Some of the first firearms were made in Pistoia, and it’s where the word pistol originates. But in earlier times, a pistolese was a dagger. The city was renowned for its beautifully wrought silver blades. No doubt every local assassin had one.

But I don’t know what weapon was used on the sons of Signor Melani, a 17th-century Pistoiese bellringer. He had four of his seven boys castrated so they could acquire the angelic voices of castrati singers. Spare them a thought when you hear the Duomo’s bells.

Editor’s Note: You can read more Italy articles here.

These springs are badly signposted, but worth the effort to find as a nearby hotel charges 22 euro to bathe in their hot springs, but this one is free.

In this video, you’ll see:

• Steenie bathing in what she describes as a warm bath
• Italians of all ages bathing in the sun
• Locals who come for a dip every day

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No, not a Tuscan freak show—it’s Piazza Matteoti in the northern Tuscan town of Pietrasanta. And these are only three of the town’s many bronze and marble sculptures. Contemporary “art for the people” is often disappointingly third-rate, but not here. Some major sculptors have their works on public display.

Pietrasanta means “sacred rock.” A medieval walled settlement, it has inspired artists and sculptors for centuries. Michelangelo lived here from 1516 until 1520, enticed by the backdrop of marble mountains.

Other former residents include Henry Moore and Joan Miró. Colombian sculptor Fernando Botero—creator of the chunky warrior—lives here part-time. Take a peek at his frescoes inside the Misericordia Oratory. The Gate to Heaven has a plump Madonna, a paunchy Lucifer waits at the Gate to Hell. Even the skeletons are comfortingly chubby.

In the streets around the cathedral, galleries and studios pop up among the boutiques and café-bars. If life-size goddesses for the garden are more your thing, the bronze foundries and large marble workshops are just outside town.

Pietrasanta is a treat. This town of 25,000 people is hidden Tuscany’s boutique art and bohemian destination, the perfect vacation spot. Well, it is if you enjoy having beaches and mountains on the doorstep, a choice of good restaurants, and browsing around Sunday bric-a-brac markets.

But it’s only one of Northern Tuscany’s neglected treasures….

Lucca: Music, History, and Cakes

Henry James was right. Lucca is “overflowing with everything.” Encased in 15th-century walls, it’s a sleeping beauty of palaces, marble-striped churches, and high, stone towers.

The birthplace of the composer Puccini, Lucca invites aimless wandering. In its spider-web of streets, classical melodies spill from a music school. There’s a flower market on one piazza, an art exhibition on another. Tiny shops tempt you with violet leather gloves and golden rings of buccellato, a specialty cake stuffed with dried fruits and flavored with aniseed.

Another fun thing to do is walk or cycle (you can rent bikes) on top of the astonishingly wide walls. Known as “Lucca’s Living Room,” the three-mile paved circuit is lined with trees and grassy spaces. It’s like promenading through a park—one that looks down onto secret gardens and piazzas.

If there’s only time for one church, make it San Frediano’s. The sun turns its mosaic facade into shimmering gold. Inside, the mummified body of Lucca’s patron saint, St. Zita, lies slumbering.

Not far from Lucca is an exquisite stone bridge at Borgo a Mozzano. Officially called Ponte Maddalena, it is nicknamed the Devil’s Bridge. Legend tells that its builder made a pact with Old Nick. As payment for his labor, the devil demanded a sacrifice: the first living thing to cross it. Happily for the village, it turned out to be a scraggy pig, not a fair maiden.

A few miles farther north, Bagni di Lucca evokes the genteel era of the Grand Tour—a past of poets, painters, and Russian princes. It was the thermal springs, reputed to cure skin diseases, that brought them flocking to this town of riverside walks and fairytale villas.

Beyond Bagni di Lucca is the Tuscan wild: the Garfagnana. The scenery turns alpine, the forests thicken and villages get sleepier. For hikers, there’s no shortage of trails. Spring brings blossom-laden trees and meadows starred with wildflowers. Two historic towns well worth a meander are Barga and Castelnuovo di Garfagnana.

Festival Time in the Lunigiana
Gentler than the Garfagnana, the Lunigiana is a land of medieval castles, river valleys and hill villages above the chestnut woods. Between the mountains and Liguria’s coast, it fits into Massa-Carrara province, Tuscany’s northwestern tip.

Each town is different. Go to Pontremoli for its mysterious prehistoric figures, or to Bagnone for its perfect setting with a castle rising above a rushing river. Fivizzano has a Tuesday market and enough marble to justify its tag as the Florence of the Lunigiana. And if tales of murder, treachery, and wanton women thrill you, one castle not to miss is Fosdinovo.

Between May and September, the village festa season goes into overdrive. Whether it’s a saint’s day or the recreation of a medieval world of archers and horseback knights, trestle tables are piled with good food and wine. Come nightfall, there’s dancing in the dark under twinkly fairy lights.

Pistoia: The Guidebooks Got it Wrong

Ignore the guidebook that says Pistoia is a “gloomy” city. Inexplicably spurned by most travelers, its historic center is packed with curiosities. In Piazza della Sala, fruit and vegetable stalls create a colorful swirl around the Well of the Lioncub, a gift from the Medicis. On Piazza del Duomo, the marble Baptistry is striped like a confectioner’s fantasy of green and vanilla.

Jazz bars, a Blues Festival and jousting tournaments don’t suggest gloom to me. Nor do pink and ochre palaces, gleaming silver altars and della Robbia’s terracotta frieze that adorns the facade of a medieval hospital, Ospedale del Ceppo. Depicting various acts of mercy, the frieze is as Crayola bright as when it was created in the 1500s.

Montecatini Terme

In Pistoia province, Montecatini Terme is Tuscany’s most illustrious spa town. An elegant place with a turn-of-last-century ambience, it has nine thermal establishments. Some spas are sumptuous Art Nouveau affairs, others more modern.

Visitors are mostly Italian. The emphasis is on health cures, but opportunities for pampering are plentiful. The best spa for a dip is Grotta Giusti. Entrance to its outdoor thermal pool is $16 on weekday afternoons.

If you decide to linger, check for special packages. For example, an overnight stay with breakfast in a three-star hotel, entrance to Rede spa, a hydroponic massage and a return funicular ticket to the medieval village of Montecatini Alto for dinner costs $170.

The Versilia Riviera

Unravelling in a golden ribbon from Liguria to just above Pisa, the Versilia Riviera is manicured Mediterranean perfection. But with few free beaches, finding space on one isn’t easy in summer. If you loathe a crowd, visit one of the hundreds of stabilimenti balneari.

Also called bagni, these are private beach clubs. Although Italy’s beaches are state-owned, bagni owners rent a concession from the government. Free spirits can walk the shoreline, but they get chased if they lay down towels.

Some Italians book slots at their favorite club for a month or the entire season. The largest and liveliest resort is Viareggio. Here, the average cost for two sun loungers and a beach umbrella for the day is $29. The shallow sea is ideal for children, but in high summer it bursts at the seams.

In smaller resort towns like Marina di Pietrasanta (my favorite), prices vary depending on facilities. Although you can expect a snack bar, showers, pedalo hire, and children’s play area at the very least, $41 a day for a couple in high season is low end. For a more stellar experience, think upwards of $70.

And then there’s Forte dei Marmi. In its exclusive beach clubs, swimming pools and fancy restaurants come at an eye-watering price. The daily rate for those two sun loungers and an umbrella often tops $120.

With its designer stores and luxury villas, the town is a summer nesting ground for Italy’s rich and famous—and, increasingly, Russian millionaires. If $6,700 to rent a rather ordinary three-bedroom property for a week in July seems reasonable, you’ll feel at home. If not, better to day-trip for a quick look.

Stay at an Agriturismo

Often far cheaper than a hotel, an agriturismo offers an insight into rural Tuscany. Some agriturismi are working farms offering basic bed and breakfast. Others are like country inns with a restaurant open to all comers.

Based on regional cuisine, the food is invariably delicious. Home-made soups. Pappardelle ribbon pasta served with a sauce of hare or wild boar. Grilled meats, garden vegetables, and farmhouse cheeses.

In Lunigiana, Lo Spinofiorito is incredible value. With four guestrooms and a restaurant, its mainstays are pigs, olive oil, and vegetables. I stayed on a half-board basis: bed, breakfast, and three-course dinner with a bottle of red wine for $66 per person. Try the chestnut pasta in pesto (basil, olive oil, and pine nuts) sprinkled with parmigiano cheese. Superb.

Italy’s horticultural heart beats around Pistoia. Three miles from the city, Il Vivaio is a 17th-century farmhouse surrounded by the family’s plant and ornamental tree nurseries. Double rooms are from $88; the substantial breakfast is $7.40 each. On Saturday nights, its terraced restaurant fires up the pizza oven. Including a carafe of wine, the dinner bill for two people was $27.

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Pietrasanta can, and you’ll find its Bar Michelangelo on Piazza del Duomo, the cathedral square. Sitting on its sunny terrace with an espresso, I’m thinking this must be one of the  loveliest little towns in Tuscany, Italy. Renaissance houses in sunset colors…medieval archways…art wherever you look.

The town has the quirkiest contemporary sculptures I’ve ever seen. Some are bronze, others are marble, and they’re all over Pietrasanta. I can’t quite figure what an acrobat dangling from a tree, a three-headed snake woman and an enormous naked warrior have in common, but Piazza Matteoti makes a great start to the sculpture trail.

It’s a shame, but unless traveling independently, most foreign visitors never find Pietrasanta. That’s not because it’s remote—the Mediterranean is only a couple of miles down the road. But it’s in Lucca province, a part of Northern Tuscany. And it’s Central Tuscany that always grabs the most attention.

In the foothills of the Apuan Alps, an offshoot of the Appenines, Pietrasanta translates as sacred rock. Behind the town, the marbled massifs gleam and glitter, and even in summer the tops look capped by snow. In nearby Carrara, marble is quarried in industrial quantities for floors, pillars and garden statuary.

Michelangelo, who came to Pietrasanta in 1516, isn’t the only name on its celebrity roll-call. Artists who work with marble and bronze have been drawn here for centuries. Henry Moore and Joan Miro were residents, and the current legend is a talented Colombian sculptor called Fernando Botero.

Best known for the giant black cat on Rambla del Raval in Barcelona, Botero is the creator of Pietrasanta’s gigantic Warrior (see photo above).

He paints, too. Even if you don’t normally visit churches, take a look at his frescoes of the Gates to Heaven and Hell inside the Misericordia Oratory. Seeing chubby skeletons was a first for me.

The bronze foundries and most marble workshops are just out of town, but the historic center has galleries galore. There are also boutiques, shops with fabulous fabrics and pieces for the home, and a great choice of restaurants. And don’t miss the best gelateria in town, La Dolce Vita on via Mazzini. I can thoroughly recommend its chocolate and nocciola (hazelnut) ice-creams. In Italy, it always seems a sin to only have one.

On the first Sunday of the month, you can browse around an antiques and bric-a-brac street market near the Cathedral. I couldn’t resist a couple of photographic prints of Pietrasanta and the marble quarries taken in the early 1900s—20 euro ($29) for two, and a wonderful memento.

The bad news is that Pietrasanta doesn’t do property bargains. It’s too close to Tuscany’s Versilia coast and the swanky resort of Forte dei Marmi. There’s precious little under   300,000 euro, though one agency has a two-bedroom apartment (967 square feet) to renovate for 290,000 euro ($423,000).

That said, the marble city of Carrara is only 30 minutes away. It’s much larger and not so high-profile—similar sized refurbished apartments cost around 200,000 euro. Studios of 430 square feet start at 85,000 euro, or you can rent furnished from 400 euro ($580) per month.

Behind the mountains lies a really affordable Tuscan hideaway: the Lunigiana area. Under an hour’s drive from Pietrasanta, it still delivers restored stone cottages for 88,000 euro to 150,000 euro ($130,000 – $220,000).

Of course, Pietrasanta may inspire you to start a new career. There are courses in all kinds of art disciplines, especially in summer. For example, a week-long marble sculpting course through Alessandra Politi is 600 euro ($875). This marble workshop also rents space to craftspeople for 350 euro ($510) per month.

Editor’s note: Steenie’s best Tuscany tips are reserved for subscribers to International Living magazine. See the current June issue and the upcoming future issues for her full reports. Subscribe now to make sure you get the full set.

In the heart of Licciana Nardi, the three-bedroom house I’m viewing doesn’t require any work. It has 1,290 square feet of living space, and a cantina for storing those lovely bottles of wine and olive oil. A covered terrace overlooks the town’s old borgo (main laneway).

At the end of the borgo, an archway opens onto a piazza. Beyond is a panorama of chestnut forests, a feudal castle and a crystal-clear river. Yet the property is priced at “pinch-yourself” level…just $163,000. For a restored townhouse in Tuscany, that’s incredible.

Yes, Tuscany. But Licciana Nardi is in the tranquil Lunigiana. Undiscovered by most travelers, this castle-studded borderland is where Tuscany melts into Liguria and Emilia Romagna.

Affordable properties aren’t the only enticement. Tuscany’s unspoiled northern tip delivers medieval market towns in the valleys and tiny fortified villages atop the hills…vineyards, olive groves and meadows…a network of village-to-village hiking paths. The coast is a short drive, and Florence, Lucca and Pisa are all easy day-trips.

Dubbed “the Land of 100 Castles,” the Lunigiana was squabbled over by the Medici and Malaspina families for centuries. The backdrop to those historic dramas are the Apennines and the marble-threaded Apuan Alps where Michelangelo sourced his Carrara marble.

Word is getting out among Europeans, but for most North Americans the Lunigiana is terra incognita. That’s a shame, because they’re missing such a treat. I visited in April—beech and chestnut trees were greening into leaf, and the hedgerows hid a flourish of primroses and violets. Higher toward the mountains, meadows were bright with alpine flowers.

I spent a day with Sylvie, from a real estate agency in Licciana Nardi. Some stone townhouses here are divided into apartments. Studios start at $57,000 and there’s a price tag of $85,000 for an apartment with kitchen, bathroom, two rooms and a mezzanine for extra bedroom space.

Offering around 10% less than the listing price won’t offend vendors. Although the market hasn’t nose-dived further over the past year, it remains slow. But once buyers regain confidence, move-into houses for less than $220,000 will become rarer.

An address anywhere in Tuscany always has cachet.

My full report starts on page 16 of the current issue of International Living magazine.

Editor’s note: Subscribe to IL magazine now and get instant access to the June issue with Steenie’s Tuscany article.

What about $5.70 for a glass of bog-standard Chianti wine? I almost faint from shock. In a bar, that should also be $1.40—or $2.80 at most.

Thing is, I’m in Florence in Italy. And Florence isn’t Pistoia…or the Lunigiana…or the Garfagnana…or any of the small Italian towns and villages around Lucca.

There’s a world of difference between Northern Tuscany and Central Tuscany. Most foreign visitors only explore the Chianti villages and the “Golden Triangle” cornered by Pisa, Florence and Siena. But unless you veer away from the well-trodden paths, you’ll never realize how affordable Tuscany can be.

I was back there this spring. One sunny day, I returned to a favorite trattoria—Il Ciancino. Unless you’ve got lost en route to the medieval walled town of Lucca, you’ve probably never heard of the location: San Macario in Piano.

But why should you know of it? San Macario doesn’t make the guide books. It’s an ordinary village set among woods, vineyards and farmland where ordinary people go about their daily affairs. And to be frank, Il Ciancino looks nondescript from the outside. But go inside any lunchtime, and you’ll find it packed.

Now, if your idea of gastronomy revolves around Michelin stars, crystal glassware and the chef’s so-called “signature dish,” Il Ciancino isn’t for you. But if you appreciate seasonal local produce and traditional country cooking, you’ll love it. The pasta is made by hand. The beef and pork come from beasts reared on the pastures of Lucca and the Garfagnana hills. The robust red wine is from Lucchese vineyards.

I started with lasagna in a ragu (meat and tomato) sauce, followed by osso buco. This is veal shank with the marrow still in the bone. It gets braised with vegetables in a broth of wine and herbs. My traveling companion chose tortelli casalinga—round pasta pockets stuffed with minced veal and ham in a cream sauce. His secondi was porchetta, roast pork. It looked like half a pig was on the plate.

Our pranzo di lavoro—working lunch—included coffee to finish. Plus, a basket of fresh bread, water and a bottle of red wine. Price for two people: 20 euro, or $28. Away from tourist towns and the dreaded menu turistico, two-course lunches with wine for $14-$16 a head are the norm. Not the exception.

Affordability also extends to property prices. You can find plenty of restored stone-built village houses and countryside homes in Northern Tuscany for under 150,000 euro. Near a small town called Comano in the Lunigiana, I viewed a two-bedroom house with a terrace and garden priced at 88,500 euro ($125,000).

Personally, I much prefer Northern Tuscany to better-known parts of the region. Bordered by Liguria and Emilia Romagna, it delivers up an unspoiled landscape of flowery meadows and chestnut woods. Often crowned with a castle, there are hilltop villages from medieval times. Beyond soar the ramparts of the mountains: the Appenines that form central Italy’s spine, and the Apuan Alps where Michelangelo obtained his marble.

From most parts of Northern Tuscany, a drive of 30 minutes to an hour takes you to the coast.

So you really can have the best of all worlds. One day you can be soaking up the sun on the golden beaches of Tuscany’s Versilia Riviera. Or you could head across the regional border into Liguria for the Cinque Terre villages and Gulf of Poets.

From Licciana Nardi—a lovely little Lunigiana town where I saw a restored three-bedroom townhouse for 115,000 euro ($163,000)—driving time to the Mediterranean is only 20 minutes. And if you need a major art attack, Lucca, Pisa and even Florence are all an easy day-trip.

Editor’s note: Property gets even cheaper in Italy when you know all the secrets. In fact, there’s a way you can buy Italian property for just 1 euro. Everything is explained here.

If you fantasize about enjoying such comforts in an historic castle, now’s the time to visit Ireland. Thanks to the recession, rates for heritage properties have plummeted.

My own Irish cottage is severely lacking in crystal chandeliers and suits of armor. So tonight I’m playing Cinderella and swapping the humdrum for the high life of Kilronan Castle.

Don’t think I’ll need glass slippers, but I’ve packed a swimsuit. As the castle also has a spa and thermal suite, I plan indulging to the full. Facial included.

In the shadow of the Arigna Hills, Kilronan is in county Roscommon, my own stamping ground. (So if it does turn out to be a dank and drafty pile, I can always dash home and grab some wool sweaters.)

Not knowing what to expect—the castle is hidden from the road—I drive through a stone archway up a long tree-lined avenue. And at the end, wow—a Gothic Revival fantasy.

Arrive at the shadow-time of dusk if you can. This is when the stained glass panels in the castle’s entrance hall glow like a dragon’s treasure hoard. With a battlemented tower looming above, it’s gratifyingly spooky. All that’s missing are some bats and a crusty retainer tugging his forelock.

Built in the early 1800s, Kilronan witnessed all the excesses of the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy. In Edwardian times, the castle passed to the Earl and Countess of Kingston who often imported London caterers for their balls and shooting parties. 3,000 pheasants were once shot over one four-day period.

But dammit! Why am I here alone? Perfect for romantic getaways, my high-ceilinged room doesn’t only have silk-screen wallpaper, a chandelier and antique furniture. No, there’s also a four-poster bed swathed in satin coverlets.

Named after Ireland’s first President, the Douglas Hyde restaurant resembles an opulent drawing room. If you haven’t availed of a special package, a three-course prix fixe dinner costs just under $64.50.

After an amuse bouche of smoked salmon with Guinness soda bread, I choose a starter of rose veal medallions with baked apples and onion chutney.  There’s another freebie:  a palate-cleansing berry sorbet with cinnamon foam. For the main event, pheasant stuffed with oatmeal and apricots proves irresistibly good.

Ah, well. I can sweat it out in the sauna tomorrow. To thoroughly compound the damage, I opt for a dessert of fig tart with stewed grapes and goats cheese ice-cream.

Too many special offers to list here but Kilronan’s midweek spa package comprises bed and full Irish breakfast plus a facial or massage for $106 per person sharing. (See: Kilronancastle.ie).

Myth, History and Fairies in Ireland

Along with trout-fishing lakes, Roscommon is weighed down with heritage. Bluebell woods hide prehistoric tombs and ring forts—the “fairy forts” of legend dating back 5,000 years. Queen Maeve had her court at Rathcroghan, where the Oweynagat Cave was rumored to be the entrance to the underworld.

Within walking distance of Kilronan’s entranceway, St Lazair’s “holy well” is said to cure rheumatism. Across the road is a graveyard where the blind harper Turlough O’Carolan was laid to rest in 1738. Honoring the last of Ireland’s bards, the O’Carolan Harp Festival takes place every August in Keadue village, just over the county border in Leitrim.

Lough Meelagh, the “Lake of the Marsh, has three crannogs—man-made islands of timber and rock that were occupied for thosuands of years right up until the seventeenth century. There are also stone sweat-houses, the original saunas. Tradition tells that Viking raiders took the idea back to Scandinavia.

Three More Heritage Temptations

The collapse of the Irish economy has brought prices tumbling down as hotels struggle to stay in business. This, coupled with a strengthening dollar, means this is your year to visit Ireland if you’re looking for deals.

In county Leitrim, Lough Rynn Castle is a handsome lakeside pile that hides some ugly secrets. It’s the ancestral home of a loathed figure in Irish history–the infamous Lord Leitrim. Assassinated in 1878, he ruthlessly evicted tenants, sometimes flogging them with a horsewhip. There were also allegations that he expected his tenants’ daughters to submit to the droit de seigneur—the right of the lord to spend their wedding night with them. Two nights B&B with one evening meal is currently $181 per person sharing. 

A royal residence? Dating from 1651, Dromoland Castle in county Clare is the ancestral home of the descendants of High King Brian Boru. Activities include archery, clay-pigeon shooting, falconry, fishing and golf. Under its “Legendary Castles” offer, a two-night stay with breakfast plus dinner on one evening is $261 per person. 

Dublin’s Shelbourne Hotel has been part of the capital’s social scene since 1824. Now under the Marriott Renaissance brand, it overlooks St Stephen’s Green and is the epitome of distinguished five-star luxury—it even has a “genealogy butler to help trace your Irish roots.” You never know who you may meet in its Horseshoe Bar. Rock stars, international rugby players and movie celebs are frequently spotted. Valid until early May, the Shelbourne Moments package comprises overnight accommodation for two with full Irish breakfast for $252. 

Dating back to the 14^th century, the story goes that, in return for helping to build it, the devil demanded the soul of the first creature who crossed it. The devil assumed this creature would be a human, but in fact, it was a pig.

Steenie is on the road to Lucca and visited a real estate agency in the area, where she was told about a wonderfully restored cottage for 45,000 euro ($65,000).

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The Apuan Alps (whose white marble was hewn for Michelangelo) serve as a backdrop to the town of Lunigiana, whose rolling landscape is sprinkled with medieval castles, fortified towns, and hill villages set high above twisting valley roads. This is Tuscany without the crowds, where life continues to follow the traditional patterns of the season.

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Pistoia is a liveable city with a wonderfully-preserved historic core in northern Tuscany—less than an hour away from Florence. At Pistoia’s Saturday market, a pound of juicy oranges costs $0.70 and exquisite violet carciofi (artichokes) are $0.42 per head.

Mens’ shirts sell for $7, ladies’ stylish woollens for $14. And you can sit and watch the world go by over an espresso for just $1.12.

(Prices are calculated on an exchange rate of 1 euro =$1.40)

Renting costs in Tuscany

If you yearn to spend more than vacation time in Tuscany, 430-square-foot furnished studios in Pistoia start at $650 per month. One-bedroom apartments are mostly around $700.

But here’s the thing about Italy. The cost of living in its main cities—particularly Rome and Milan—are considerably more expensive than in provincial cities, towns and villages. Much of this is down to high rents—which are matched by high real estate prices. The same applies to well-known places such as Florence that draw the tourist crowds.

For example, for a 645-square-foot apartment in Milan, you’ll be hard-pressed to find anything for less than $1,120 per month. And that will be unfurnished. But look to Latina, a town south of Rome with beaches on the doorstep, and you could rent a furnished apartment of the same size for $700 monthly.

Want more living space? On Italy’s Adriatic coast, Pescara is a seaside city in the Abruzzo region. Here you’ll find furnished 752 square foot apartments for $770 monthly.

Go into Italy’s deep south and monthly rents for large apartments get cheaper still. $700 nets a 120-square-foot furnished apartment in the modern quarter of Matera, a small city in the Basilicata region.

The cost of eating out can also vary wildly. You won’t find it offered very often in Italy’s tourist centers, but the ‘pranzo di lavoro’ (working lunch) is always good value. 2-courses—usually with wine—rarely cost more than $14.

How much for a wood-oven fired pizza in Florence? It can be as little as $5.60. But that will be in a trattoria in Novoli, one of the city’s residential suburbs. In the historic center, prices are aimed at visitors, not locals.

Another thing to be aware of is that the general cost of living in southern Italy is less than in the country’s northern half. For one thing, summer in the deep south lasts longer, so heating bills aren’t as high.

But even in Italy’s northern half, you can cut down fuel costs by “living like a local”. In winter, many people use wood-burning stoves—and it’s increasingly common to see eco-friendly properties with solar panels.

One contact gave me a run-down of the typical bills for a 1,075-square-foot stone village house in the Bagni di Lucca area of northern Tuscany. These are annual costs.

Property taxes: $280

Garbage collection: $280

Water: $350

Fuel—a combination of gas, electricity, solar panels, and wood: $1,400

(Without solar panels and a wood-burning stove, you can expect the annual bill to double to around $2,800.)

If you run a car, the cost of gas will likely come as something of a shock. Prices in April were mostly around $2.11 per liter.

But do you need a car? There are few places you can’t get to in Italy by bus or train, and all cities have an extensive public transport network. The price of a train ticket from Pisa to Florence is currently $8.12.

Obviously how much you spend on groceries, etc., is down to you and your lifestyle. If you smoke, most brands of cigarettes cost $5.46 for a pack of 20.

Cut down on your cost of living by buying at the markets

For the best value—and the freshest produce—buy fruit and vegetables at markets. For other items, larger supermarkets such as Esselunga, Centro and PAM often have 2 for 1 deals and discount cards for regular shoppers.

The following prices come from the Centro supermarket in Novoli, a residential district of Florence. 1 kilo = 2.2 pounds.

Roast beef: $13.86/kilo

Chicken breasts: $9.73/kilo

Prosciutto ham: $23.66/kilo

Sea bream: $12.46/kilo

Pecorino cheese: $20.44/kilo

Mozzarella cheese: $12.46/kilo

4 x Activia yoghurts: $3.06

200gm pack of butter: $2.32

1 liter of milk $1.05

Dried pasta, 2 x 500 gm packs: $1.64

Extra virgin olive oil: $5.57/liter

San Benedetto mineral water: 2 x 1 liter bottles: $0.67

2 x 0.75 bottles of Chianti Classico: $8.35

Editor’s Note: Learn more about Italy and other countries in our daily postcard e-letter. Sign up for IL’s free daily postcard here and we’ll send you a FREE REPORT: Italy: Europe’s Most Seductive Country.

Regulations are the same nationwide when you’re getting married in Italy; however some cities (e.g. Florence) waive certain requirements when the marriage is between two U.S. citizens.

Along with two witnesses, Americans wishing to marry in Italy must—three days prior to the ceremony—appear before the Ufficiale di Stato Civile (in Florence, it’s the Civil Registrar in the Palazzo Vecchio), and declare their intent to marry. The following documents must be presented at this time:

• A nulla osta, an oath notarized by an American consul in Italy, stating that there are no obstacles to the marriage as defined under American laws. (When making this declaration, you must present your passports and pay a notarial fee of $30.)

The consul’s signature affixed to this document must then be authenticated by the Ufficio Legalizzazione at one of the region’s prefetture. In Florence, the office is at Via Giacomini 8, and opening hours are 9 a.m. to 11 a.m., Monday through Friday, and 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. on Thursday. Please note that a nulla osta done at the embassy in Rome is not accepted at the comune in Florence.

• A marca da bollo (administrative stamp fee) in the amount of $14 is payable to the prefettura. It can be purchased in a tobacco shop (tabacchi) and is then presented to the clerk at the Ufficio Legalizzazione for each document to be authenticated.

Before coming to Italy to marry, you must also obtain an atto notorio. This is an oath sworn in the presence of two witnesses and notarized by an Italian Consulate in the U.S., stating there are no legal impediments to the marriage. If you are already residing in Italy, this can be done at a Pretura (lower court house).

In Florence, you need to make an appointment with the Ufficio Atti Notori at the Pretura Circondariale di Firenze, Piazza San Marino 2; tel. +39 (055) 27-461. You will need some knowledge of Italian and there’s usually a wait of several weeks to the appointment.

Prior to the appointment, you will need to buy two types of Italian administrative stamps (marche per atti giudiziari), one to the value of $44.30 and the other for $19. These stamps can also be purchased in most tabacchi shops. Sounds odd, but this is where you go to purchase administrative stamps.

• You will also need to produce birth certificates showing the names of both parents, and evidence of termination of any previous marriage. Any documents issued outside of Italy must be translated into Italian and authenticated by the Italian Consulate with jurisdiction over your place of residence in the U.S.

If any previous divorce, annulment, or death has been properly recorded on the atto notorio, these documents won’t be needed. Another thing to note is that any previous marriage of the bride must have been dissolved at least 300 days before the date of the proposed marriage.

After the above steps have been completed, banns (notices) are posted at the local city hall for two consecutive Sundays before the marriage occurs. The banns can be waived if neither party to the marriage is an Italian citizen or resides in Italy.

A marriage is considered valid in Italy if performed in a civil or religious ceremony.

A civil ceremony is performed at the city hall. A translator must interpret if one of the parties does not understand the Italian language.

A religious ceremony is performed by a Roman Catholic priest or a clergyman of any other denomination authorized by the Italian Ministry of the Interior to perform religious ceremonies.

If you want your marriage in Italy to be legally recognized in the U.S., the marriage certificate should be taken to the prefettura (the same office that authenticated the Consul’s signature) of the city where the marriage took place, to request the placement of an Apostille seal on the certificate.

Learn more about Italy and other countries in our daily postcard e-letter. Sign up for IL’s free daily postcard here and we’ll send you a FREE REPORT: Italy: Europe’s Most Seductive Country.

Learn more about Italy and other countries in our daily postcard e-letter. Sign up for IL’s free daily postcard here and we’ll send you a FREE REPORT: Italy: Europe’s Most Seductive Country.

But here’s a tip: To those in the know, Italy’s best antiques market is in Arezzo, located about 30 minutes from Florence. On the first Sunday of every month and the preceding Saturday, Arezzo’s old town streets are closed to traffic and transformed into a great outdoor bazaar/antique fair for both professional and amateur shoppers. Here you can find antiques, collectibles, new articles, or curious old miscellany from all over the world. Artwork, ceramics, apparel, accessories, jewelry, lighting, furniture…collectors’ stamps, maps, nutcrackers, dentistry and medical instruments, terracotta vases, planters…with hundreds of stands, you could spend hours here.

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Right in the heart of Tuscany, Florence (or Firenze, as the Italians say) possesses an almost unbelievable wealth of monuments and art. Capital of the Italian State from 1865 to 1871, Florence flanks the banks of the River Arno.

Getting to Florence is easy: the Amerigo Vespucci airport is just three miles from the center. The main railway station is Santa Maria Novella and the city itself has a good public bus system.

Every year, tourists flock here in their thousands. With its candy-striped façade of pink and green marble capped by Brunelleschi’s great dome, the duomo (cathedral) is as awe-inspiring as you would expect. So, too, is the octagon-shaped Baptistry with its intricately-worked bronze doors which include Ghilberti’s masterpiece, The Gates of Paradise.

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In Ragusa, on the island of Sicily, you can pick up an Italian property in the sun for 450 euro ($621) per square meter. Equate that to dollars, and it means you could have a similar sized apartment (537 square feet) for just over $30,000.

Why the huge disparity? Well, unemployment in this region has been historically high for generations. This is reflected in both the purchase price of property as well as long-term rentals in the south of Italy.

Published in February this year, the latest research from Borsino Immobiliare di Confedilizia pinpoints Venice as Italy’s most expensive city for property buyers. Its watery beauty comes at an eye-wateringly steep cost. In central neighborhoods, $12,972 is the square meter average.

At $12,282 and $10,488 respectively, average square meter prices in the centers of Rome and fashion capital Milan aren’t too far behind.

Although Milan overtakes Rome when it comes to semicentrale neighborhoods, the same trio of cities top this category’s “priciest properties” list too. An apartment in “semi-central” Venice typically costs $8,804 per square meter; in Milan $7,093; in Rome $6,900.

While the global downturn certainly affected the price of property in Italy, there was no bloodbath like in Spain and Ireland. Homes in major cities have mostly held their value. One reason is that supply is limited–new-build housing didn’t spiral out of control. Another is that Italian city properties attract investors, as well as residential buyers.

Looking elsewhere, Tuscany’s draw cards include the art cities of Siena and Florence. Average square meter prices in their respective historic centers are $7,355 and $7,038.

Property prices get slightly less expensive in the neighboring region of Emilia Romagna. Famed for its university and gastronomic passions, rose-red Bologna is the regional capital. Average square meter price for an apartment in its central zone is $6,251.

Where to get cheaper property in Italy

Contrast that to Vibo Valentia, a city that also gives its name to a province in Calabria. On the western coast of Italy’s ‘toe’, it offers almost 50 miles of coastline, archaeological sites and a mountainous hinterland. The average price in the center of Vibo Valentia is $1,104 per square meter; on the periphery, $690 per square meter.

On the island of Sicily, the port city of Siracusa was once a major Greek colony. With Mediterranean beaches on the doorstep, it has a history going back almost 3,000 years. And with average property prices at $1,242 per square meter, it’s one of the most affordable places on the Mediterranean.

According to Tecnocasa, a nationwide Italian real estate agency, 2011 is predicted to be fairly stable. So if you’re thinking of buying, should you look to the north, center or south? That may depend on what you plan to do with your Italian property. Is it solely as a home/second home for yourself–or do you intend renting it out?

Along with Rome, north and central Italy capture the bulk of tourists. Property in Venice or Florence is at the upper end of the price range, but will likely prove easier to market as a vacation rental–and command far higher rates–than somewhere in the deep south.

Editor’s Note: Learn more about Italy and other countries in our daily postcards. Sign up for our free postcards here and we’ll send you a FREE report – Italy: Europe’s Most Seductive Country.

If you fantasize about enjoying such comforts in an historic castle, now’s the time to visit Ireland. Thanks to the recession, rates for heritage properties have plummeted.

My own Irish cottage is severely lacking in crystal chandeliers and suits of armor. So tonight I’m playing Cinderella and swapping the humdrum for the high life of Kilronan Castle.

Don’t think I’ll need glass slippers, but I’ve packed a swimsuit. As the castle also has a spa and thermal suite, I plan indulging to the full. Facial included.

In the shadow of the Arigna Hills, Kilronan is in county Roscommon, my own stomping ground. (So if it does turn out to be a dank and drafty pile, I can always dash home and grab some wool sweaters.)

Not knowing what to expect—the castle is hidden from the road—I drive through a stone archway up a long tree-lined avenue. And at the end, wow—a Gothic Revival fantasy. Arrive at the shadow-time of dusk if you can. This is when the stained glass panels in the castle’s entrance hall glow like a dragon’s treasure hoard. With a battlemented tower looming above, it’s gratifyingly spooky. All that’s missing are some bats and a crusty retainer tugging his forelock.

Built in the early 1800s, Kilronan witnessed all the excesses of the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy. In Edwardian times, the castle passed to the Earl and Countess of Kingston who often imported London caterers for their balls and shooting parties. 3,000 pheasants were once shot over one four-day period.

But dammit! Why am I here alone? Perfect for romantic getaways, my high-ceilinged room doesn’t only have silk-screen wallpaper, a chandelier and antique furniture. No, there’s also a four-poster bed swathed in satin coverlets.

Too many special offers to list here but Kilronan’s midweek spa package comprises bed and full Irish breakfast plus a facial or massage for $106 per person sharing.

Kilronan Castle isn’t the only special offer in Ireland right now. The collapse of the Irish economy has brought hotel prices tumbling down as they struggle to stay in business. This, coupled with a strengthening dollar, means this is your year if you’re looking for deals. In the March issue of International Living magazine, you can read my full article on Kilronan…plus details of three more heritage temptations in Ireland offering deals.

For spine-tingling stories, Maison Borghetti provides the perfect setting. It’s crammed with cabinets of curiosities and esoteric objets d’art. I’m particularly taken with the gargoyle grinning from an alcove, pictures of the Grim Reaper, and a plague saint (St. Roch) watching over me in the bedroom.

A handsome stone house, Maison Borghetti is a chambres d’hote (bed and breakfast) in Talasani village.

Once owned by a Corsican revolutionary, it’s now home to Brian, Patrick and their dog Kika. Doubles with breakfast are from 65 euro ($90).

Brian is Irish with a background in computers. Patrick is Belgian and a trained chef. After years of Corsica vacations, they moved from Amsterdam around four years ago.

High in the chestnut woods, Talasani is around seven miles from eastern Corsica’s coast. As with many hill villages, you’d need a car.

There’s no shop and the sole bar/restaurant only opens in summer.

Thankfully visitors needn’t starve. Patrick will cook dinner for guests—on this night a three-course Moroccan feast with aperitifs, wine and a digestif of chestnut eau de vie. As my hosts were wonderfully profligate with the red wine, it was worth every cent of 27.50 euros ($38). A Corsican couple from Ajaccio were staying too, so it felt like a dinner party.

After trawling through French strikes and politics, conversation turned the mazzeri—Corsica’s feared dream hunters.

None of my dinner companions had ever met one—the consensus was that the mazzeri have died out. But the British writer/historian Dorothy Carrington documented meeting both male and female mazzeri in the 1970s. Most operated on the psychic plane, killing animals (wild and domestic) in their dreams. But some went into a trance akin to sleep-walking and hunted for real.

Thing was, the hunted animals had a human face, usually that of someone in the village. The mazzeri didn’t keep it secret—they announced their “kill”. Belief was that the victim would die within the year. If an animal was only wounded, then the person it represented would fall ill or have an accident.

The mazzeri counterparts are signadori, wise women adept in herb lore and spellcraft against the evil eye. If rumor is right, more remote inland villages still have one.

Some local plants also have magical links. In common with ancient Greek beliefs, Corsicans once thought the asphodel was linked to immortality. (In legend, the plains of Hades are also known as the Asphodel Meadows.) It used to be planted around tombs across the Mediterranean. There’s a Corsican saying that those who forget the asphodel have forgotten their roots.

If you’re into folklore and flowers, you’ll have a field day. No guarantee that weird dreams won’t materialize, but you should feel well protected in Maison Borghetti. Even my bathroom wall is adorned with three icons of saints, including one of a dragon-slaying St. George.

You might also start thinking about how much fun it would be to run a chambres d’hote or live in a village house yourself. So, don’t miss my full Corsica report in the February issue of International Living magazine, out this week.

Red kites wheel above—this is bird of prey territory. Beyond forests of holm oak, chestnut and pine, the land rises into a shadowland of granite crags and pinnacles.

It’s a landscape made for stories. Legend says Christopher Columbus’s mother was born in Monticello’s ruined castle. Corbara has tales of Moorish pirates who kidnapped villagers to sell in North Africa’s slave markets.

Santa Reparata is a great coffee stop—the bar opposite the church has a spectacular lookout down on Ile Rousse from its back garden.

Then there’s Corsica’s oldest village, Sant’ Antonigno of the vaulted passageways…Lumio, site of a pagan sun-worshipping cult.

I stopped for a picnic lunch in Pigna—a hilltop village with blue-shuttered stone houses, cobbled streets and cats with a taste for Camembert. This is the nerve-center of the Balagne crafts trail: potters and artisans who make shepherds’ knives, stained glass works, music boxes and a special type of lute called the cetera.

Calenzana is another fascinating stop. Its inhabitants saw off German mercenaries by bombarding them with bee-hives. It’s also the start of the GR20, a hiking route across Corsica’s mountainous spine. My idea of a walk wasn’t so ambitious. I aimed to visit St. Restitude’s sarcophagus, but the gate to her chapel was locked.

One of Corsica’s female martyrs, St. Restitude suffered more ignominies than most. Apparently she was whipped with a pizzle (a bull’s penis), had her skin gouged with iron combs, was stoned, and then thrown into a fiery furnace. She survived both those torments and an attempted drowning, but not decapitation.

Most Balagne villages are within 15 miles of the coast. But the terrain and too many walkabouts meant I never saw even half of them. There are many more beside the ones I’ve mentioned.

Every turn of the ribbon-thin roads delivers another reason to stop. Here, the dazzling white rotunda of a tiny chapel. There, a farm selling honey and sheep’s cheese. Around the bend, a prehistoric standing stone…a roadside shrine…another ruined castle…an awesome coastal view.

Plus it’s a forager’s delight. Olive trees and even apricot trees grow wild beside the road. Like the hundreds of sweet chestnuts in spiky casings, mushrooms were everywhere. I’m sure I spotted some pale yellow (and expensive) chanterelles, but it’s wise to have a good fungi identification book before picking anything.

The Balagne’s only sizable settlements are on the coast: the citadel town of Calvi and Ile Rousse. The French Foreign Legion has a training base in Calvi, so don’t be surprised to see soldiers in white kepi caps.

Ile Rousse isn’t an island, but a pretty seaside town. It takes its name from red rocks jutting into the sea. People were sunbathing on its beach, and even venturing into the sea in late October.

One-bedroom apartments (35 square meters) in Ile Rousse can be found for around 120,000 euro ($160,000). That’s around 1,000 euro per square meter less than French Riviera prices. Same weather, but Corsica is wilder, prettier and completely unspoiled.

Editor’s note: If getting paid to write about European islands sounds like fun to you…be sure to sign up for our Fund Your Dream Life Alert List. Once you’re on this free list, you’ll learn about flexible, work-anywhere ways you can pay for your life overseas.

Earlier I’d walked the village’s Sentier Douane, a seashore footpath once used by customs officers hunting for smugglers. Views are spectacular: the turquoise Mediterranean, a crumbling Genoese watchtower, the tiny trio of Finocchiarola islets.

Cap Corse is Corsica’s northern promontory. Maps show it as a finger gesturing rudely to the mainland. Maybe that’s appropriate given the island’s history of conquest. French in name and rule, Corsica’s soul and traditions remind me more of Sardinia, its Italian island neighbor.

Balzac called Corsica a “French island basking in the Italian sun.” This isn’t Parisian weather. Even in late October, afternoon temperatures often hit 73F—still warm enough to sunbathe and swim.

No large scale resorts, no over-development. Instead, its 600 miles of coastline are necklaced with silver beaches, crescent moon coves, stone towers and tiny fishing villages.

The interior is wild—a hiker’s idyll of shepherd tracks, sparkly rivers and granite mountains contorted into needles and spires. Below the crags are orchards, vineyards and stone villages half as old as time.

Goats spill across spaghetti-thin roads, red kites hover overhead, wild boar rummage in forests of oak, pine and sweet chestnut. Everywhere is perfumed with the scent of the maquis—Corsica’s dense shrubland of myrtle, rosemary, eucalyptus and numerous other herbs and flowers.

France, yes—games of boules are definitely French. So are croissants, pastis, and the tricolor flying above town halls.

But there’s also pasta and pizza from wood-fired ovens. Churches often have campanile bell towers straight off a Tuscan postcard. While vineyards flank the Route des Vins, the Balagne’s crafts trail is signposted as an Italian-sounding Strada di Artigiani.

Five centuries of Genoese rule helps explain the culture collision. Genoa only sold it to the French in 1768. Corsicans weave France and Italy together, but with a distinct warp and weft to the fabric.

Corsica’s own flag, a sinister-looking Moor’s Head, adorns car number-plates—my rented Citroen included. Its language combines French with old Genoese. And the past is studded with everything from prehistoric megaliths to pirate kidnappings, village witchcraft and bloody vendettas.

Although it’s not a bargain hotspot, prices are still less than on the Riviera. So, 165,000 euro ($220,000) for a 645-square-foot apartment in Ajaccio’s historic castle quarter isn’t considered expensive by local standards. After all, Ajaccio is Corsica’s capital as well as Napoleon Bonaparte’s birthplace.

But you can get a foothold for less than 100,000 euro. Or you can rent. I’ll tell you more in IL magazine’s February issue—subscribe now to make sure you get my full Corsica report on February 1st.

Otherwise your bella figura may expand into a gran’ figura, because Tuscany’s cultural feast comes with toothsome temptations at every turn.

In Lucca, beneath Renaissance towers, you’ll find tordelli—gossamer-light ravioli pillows stuffed with rabbit. In Volterra there are alabaster workshops, the Etruscans and pappardelle al cinghiale—broad pasta ribbons with a rich sauce of tomatoes, herbs and wild boar.

In northern Tuscany, castle-topped Bagnone means testaroli pancakes cut into strips and dressed with pesto. This green sauce gets pounded from basil, pine nuts, garlic, olive oil and pecorino cheese.

Even when stuffed to the gunwales in Tuscany, I anticipate the next meal. Alimentari (grocery shops) are like treasure chests. Smoked hams and fennel-studded salamis hang from the beams. Sacks brim with brown-speckled borlotti beans; shelves glint with bottles of golden olive oil and dark chestnut honey.

Caprino goat’s cheese, pecorino sheep’s cheese. So many cheeses! One sniff, and I was dreaming of ricotta and spinach tortellini bathed in butter and sage.

Tuscany takes Italy’s passion for food to legendary levels. While cooking is often rustic and hearty, flavors are sublime. But the secret to fabulous eating experiences is seeking out cucina tipica instead of the “tourist menus,” which are often mediocre as well as predictable.

The best establishments are often trattorie, locandas and osterias—family-run places with simple menus based on nonna’s (grandmother’s) recipes. Unless you’re allergic to certain foods, abandon the phrasebook. Be adventurous.

Rarely visited by foreigners, the Garfagnana and Lunigiana areas of north Tuscany are authentically rustico. Herb pies…blood sausages…chestnuts. Turned into flour and polenta, made into jams and liqueurs, the humble chestnut has been a culinary staple for centuries.

On my last trip my only disappointment was Pisa. The torrent of visitors means restaurants needn’t try too hard. The same with San Gimignano—lovely, but a tourist trap. Prices were so inflated I skipped lunch.

What’s the Damage?
In the Garfagnana and Lunigiana, a three-course dinner averages $28 to $35. But desserts are rarely anything special, so I usually resist. A half liter of house wine is $8 to $9.

The cities and Tuscany’s Versilia coast are generally more expensive. Take Pietrasanta. Below marble mountains, it’s an arty medieval town near the coast. Here, Il Cerbero is fairly pricy but the food is impeccable. (via Giuseppe Garibaldi, 59).

I dithered over a seafood risotto starter ($12.50) but chose ravioli stuffed with cod. In crema di porri, a creamy leek sauce, the pasta pockets came sprinkled with truffle shavings. At $17, the expensive end of starter courses—most are $11 to $14.

My husband chose fagottino di baccalà su ceci al rosmarino ($11). Another cod starter, but the fish was minced into gnocchi-like dumplings in a chickpea and rosemary cream sauce. Exquisite—I turned bandit and stole one.

Along with spigola (sea bass) and orata (bream), main dishes include fritatta—a medley of squid, shrimp and vegetables in batter ($19.50).  Most dishes were $17 to $22. With a $14 bottle of wine and coffees at $2.77, the bill was $86.

Eat Well on a Budget

On weekdays, look for places with a pranzo di lavoro—a worker’s lunch. Fellow diners might be guys in cement-covered boots, but the food is usually good. Owners depend on regular custom, not passing trade.

Most charge $11 to $14 for two courses with two or three choices. The first is pasta or a hearty broth; the second a meat or fish dish such as trout or calamari with vegetables or salad.  The price includes cover charge and often a small carafe of wine, a beer, soft drink or bottled water.

My favorite “working lunch” was in Pontremoli, a medieval town in Lunigiana. Tucked away along via Cavour is Osteria Oca Bianca—the White Duck.

I had pasta with mushrooms in a nutty-flavored sauce. (No written menu, so I can’t be exact—the waiter just rattled things off.) That was followed by involtini—thin veal slices wrapped around prosciutto ham with a side salad. The $14 price included wine.

The road to Volterra delivered a seriously cheap lunch—$3.48. At a roadside lay-by, a mobile food van was selling roast porchetta. Between crusty bread, it’s the classic pork sandwich.

Even if pig vans don’t appeal, Tuscany is ideal picnic territory.  Hit the grocery store or market—most towns have a weekly one.

Pizza? Not for lunch. As few pizzerias light their wood-fired ovens until evening, it’s often micro-waved and not the real deal. Figure $10 to $14 for full-size pizzas.

Unraveling the Menu

First up are antipasti—starters before the starters. Diners often share or miss this course altogether. Here’s where you find mixed platters of salamis, cured meats and cheeses, crostini (toasted canapés—try them with chicken livers), smoked fish and seafood salads.

Primi are pastas and risottos. Unlike in North America, pasta is a first course, not the main event. That’s the secondi: meat and fish dishes. Contorni are vegetables and salads. They’re ordered separately as an accompaniment to entrées.

Dolci are desserts, but cheeses lurk here too. There’s often honey to drizzle on the cheese.

Chianti isn’t Tuscany’s only wine. I tried many from the Luccan and Pisan hills and never paid over $17. Supermarkets provide the cheapskate’s way to sample Tuscan wines and there are some excellent ones for $5 to $7.

Editor’s Note: This article was taken from a past issue of International Living’s monthly magazine. To get full access to all past and future articles and to receive the magazine in the mail or online each month, you can subscribe here.

Read more articles from our sample issue here.

Earlier, I’d walked the village’s Sentier Douane, a seashore footpath once used by customs officers hunting for smugglers. Views are spectacular: the turquoise Mediterranean, a crumbling Genoese watchtower, the tiny trio of Finocchiarola islets.

Cap Corse is Corsica’s northern promontory. Maps show it as a finger gesturing rudely to the mainland. Maybe that’s appropriate given the island’s history of conquest. French in name and rule, Corsica’s soul and traditions remind me more of Sardinia, its Italian island neighbor.

Balzac called Corsica a “French island basking in the Italian sun”.

This isn’t Parisian weather. Even in late October, afternoon temperatures often hit 73 F—still warm enough to sunbathe and swim.

No large scale resorts, no over-development. Instead, its 600 miles of coastline are necklaced with silver beaches, crescent moon coves, stone towers and tiny fishing villages.

The interior is wild—a hiker’s idyll of shepherd tracks, sparkly rivers and granite mountains contorted into needles and spires. Below the crags are orchards, vineyards and stone villages half as old as time.

Goats spill across spaghetti-thin roads, red kites hover overhead, wild boar rummage in forests of oak, pine and sweet chestnut. Everywhere is perfumed with the scent of the maquis—Corsica’s dense shrubland of myrtle, rosemary, eucalyptus and numerous other herbs and flowers.

France, yes—games of boules are definitely French. So are croissants, pastis, and the tricolor flying above town halls.

But there’s also pasta and pizza from wood-fired ovens. Churches often have campanile bell towers straight off a Tuscan postcard. While vineyards flank the Route des Vins, the Balagne’s crafts trail is signposted as an Italian-sounding Strada di Artigiani.

Five centuries of Genoese rule helps explain the culture collision. Genoa only sold it to the French in 1768. Corsicans weave France and Italy together, but with a distinct warp and weft to the fabric.

Corsica’s own flag, a sinister-looking Moor’s Head, adorns car number-plates—my rented Citroen included. Its language combines French with old Genoese. And the past is studded with everything from prehistoric megaliths to pirate kidnappings, village witchcraft and bloody vendettas.

Although it’s not a bargain hotspot, prices still average around 1,000 euro per square meter less than on the Riviera—165,000 euro ($226,000) for a 645-square-foot apartment in Ajaccio’s historic castle quarter isn’t considered expensive by local standards. After all, Ajaccio is Corsica’s capital as well as Napoleon Bonaparte’s birthplace.

But you can get a foothold for less than 100,000 euro ($137,000). Or you can rent. I’ll tell you more at the Ultimate Event in February.

Editor’s note: Steenie will be at IL’s Ultimate Event, along with more than 100 speakers and experts who’ll give general session presentations and workshops. There will be cocktail receptions, poolside parties, VIP dinners, after-hours drinks, private early-morning breakfasts, between-sessions networking… You’ll hear about the best opportunities for the would-be expat, retiree, investor and traveler right now. Get the full details about the Ultimate Event here.