Trento is one of those cities that I visited as a part of my year-long adventure in trying to find a place for my wife and me to move to after we got married and wanted to start a family. A place I had never been. From a bit of research, it looked very promising as a possible candidate for a place to move to.

Why?

It’s surrounded by nature (including a swimming lake), the cost of living and apartment prices are cheaper than Florence, and it is less than two hours by train to an airport. Naturally, access to transport is super important to my work as a travel photographer. 

So, overall, Trento checks off some serious boxes for us. With all this in mind, I had a lot of exploration to do. I was looking for Pilates studios, craft beer spots (if you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know how much I love craft beer), and other essentials like grocery stores, post offices, schools, and hospitals.

My goal was simple: to show up and spend time in Trento as if I already lived there. Where would I get my morning coffee? Where would I go for an afternoon run? Where would we take the dogs?

Here are some boxes that Trento checked for us, which includes being able to walk, or ride a bike a short distance in order to be able to access:

✅ More than one supermarket 

✅ A dog park

✅ Restaurants, Bars, and Cafes

✅ A post office

✅ More than one ATM machine

✅ A hospital with an emergency room

✅ A Pilates or Yoga Studio

✅ Pre School and Elementary School

✅ A Pharmacy

✅ Stores to buy basics for the home

✅ Stores to buy clothing

✅ At least one pet store

What followed was less of a checklist and more of a slow reveal. A series of micro-moments, quiet turns, and slow revelations. A handful of places stood out—each one different from the next. Together they formed a strange and beautiful mosaic. A city that feels part German precision, part Italian flair, and entirely its own.

Trattoria Piedicastello: An Artist’s Restaurant 

If there’s one place that crystallized the spirit of Trento for me, it was this special restaurant, Trattoria Piedicastello. I remember walking in and thinking, this isn’t a restaurant; it’s an artist’s imagination exploded onto the walls.

Literally, murals covered every inch of the place, not in a meticulously curated way, just layer upon layer of organic creativity from all kinds of artists. And there was a portrait of him, the owner.

An older man with a quiet but very much alive energy. He sat sketching at a table, like he wasn’t running a business so much as living a piece of art. I regret not taking photos of him or us together.

The entire atmosphere, the vibe, the food – everything felt like an artist’s paradise to me. We chatted for a while after I ate, and I felt compelled to give him my personal compliments, and he invited me upstairs to see an area that hadn’t opened to the public yet.

It had exposed stone, murals all over the ceiling, and tables set up for what he told me would be a huge party for the opening day. 

To be honest, I saw myself in that man, that portrait of his and his energy. If I ever opened a cafe, it would be something similar. Kinda messy with pockets of chaos and inspiration, mixed with function and authenticity.

It wouldn’t be just my work either, but an ever-evolving collaboration. I’d also have instruments in a corner so people can jam and feel connected. A place to gather, share, create. I left his restaurant feeling more inspired than when I arrived, and I can’t wait to visit again.

Echoes Underground

Another unexpected surprise was the La Galleria museum built into repurposed tunnels. It’s split into two halves: the Galleria Nera (The Black Tunnel) and the Galleria Bianca (The White Tunnel).

They were originally built in the early 1970s as part of Trento’s ring road system. For decades, they carried traffic along the busy North-South route between Verona and the Brenner Pass (Passo del Brennero).

Each tunnel stretched about 300 meters and was wide enough to fit four tractor trailers side by side. Crazy, right!? These things are big.

Since I didn’t book a tour in advance (typical me), I went into the side that was dedicated to World War II’s impact on the local region. On the right side there was an impossibly long corridor that goes along the entire length of the tunnel. I guess it is used as an emergency exit and a b-line to either end in case you need to save time or want to leave.

I was literally the only person in the entire museum – an entire tunnel all to myself – so I wanted to take my time. As I walked through it in absolute silence, I could only hear the exhibition audio activating as I walked along. 

Later on, I found a room with spelling blocks and decided to spell my name – it felt fitting, and fun! There were just enough letters to spell my entire name – except for the last ‘N’ , which I had to replace with a sneaky ‘Z’ turned on its side. I usually don’t have very many photos of me when I’m out and about during my travels – and certainly not many with both me and my name. When the opportunity calls for it – strike a pose? Done and done. I wonder if anyone ever noticed… Maybe it lasted there for a day – maybe a week. Maybe months. Maybe it’s still there? Who knows 🙂 

Panoramas Above

I spent an hour or so exploring the various mini exhibitions while part lugging, part using my Onewheel XR as an awkwardly balanced cane (yes, I carried it the whole time). Yes, it was heavy.

After, I went back through the impossibly long, white corridor towards the outside world again.

But what stayed with me afterwards wasn’t just the exhibition itself but the really creative reuse of space. 

The tunnels are literally carved into the base of the Parco Naturale del Doss. So after exploring them, I rode my Onewheel up the serpentine road snaking around, through, and up it. The Divisore Alpino tunnel is part of a former military route now used by pedestrians and cyclists, connecting various historical and natural sites around the area.

I love discovering elevated land to take overlooking shots of the urban life below. This whole area is elevated and rewards you with panoramic views across Trento.

Towards the top I took a shot looking back down over the town. It was one of those moments where you just pause and go, Yeah, this is why I came.

Alcide De Gasperi

On another day while I was wandering out on the outskirts of the city center, I came across a monument in a park with absolutely amazing metalwork. It didn’t match any of the architecture or design that I had seen around town at all.

The details and the scenes depicted in metal are honestly astounding. I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like it before. 

Sometimes these things hit you not because they’re grand, but because they feel out of place and yet, somehow, belong. The statue is dedicated to Alcide De Gasperi, who was a big deal in the post-war political scene.

It was created by the famous Florentine sculptor Antonio Berti in 1956. What I loved about the side carvings was the twisted amalgamation of human figures and buildings, which, when combined with the otherwise post-fascist design elements, was something that really stood out to me. Seriously cool!

The Painted City

I also stumbled upon the delicately painted Renaissance-style facades of Casa Cazuffi in Piazza del Duomo. I now know Trento is sometimes called La Città Dipinta (“The Painted City”), and now I know why. These murals are so large and fit in so well with the square’s overall aesthetic that you might miss them if you weren’t paying attention.

When you finally see them, there is definitely a ‘wait…what?…wow!’ moment. Today, street art may carry different connotations, but even centuries ago, these building facades served as massive, open-air canvases. 

What struck me as well was how, within just a few steps, you could feel time shifting beneath your feet. The once-bold frescoes now faded quietly into the stone, whispering fragments of the past. And somehow, they added a kind of softness to the patchwork city. 

That’s the thing about Trento: it doesn’t try to hide its layers. Medieval, Renaissance, and modern— they all sit side by side. Take this building, for example. I had no idea what it was when I first saw it. I figured it might be a dorm or part of a university. Turns out, it’s actually the Musei Castello del Buonconsiglio.

Like… what is even happening with this mixed architecture? I love it – complimenti! 

Castello del Buonconsiglio

Austrian-Italian Flavors

Beyond the layers of time, there’s another influence at play in Trento, one I didn’t expect: a strong Austrian presence. I guess it makes sense; Trento was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until 1919.

It’s not just in the architecture, though. It shows up in the food, the beer halls, and even some of the signage.

At Pasticceria San Vigilio, I had a ridiculously good apple strudel. It was so good it practically forced me to slow down and savor every bite. Although that was also because they gave me the tiniest fork and knife imaginable. Every mouthful felt dainty, like I was using cutlery from a dollhouse. Later, someone told me they loved the photo I posted because of “the cute fork,” which… honestly? Fair enough.

Birreria Pedavena

Pizzeria Ristorante Alla Grotta

On one of the nights I was there, I just finished up shooting for a very long day – I wasn’t finding reservations available at some of the restaurants that I had found that had been recommended to me by a few friends. I was pretty tired, so I started doing a bit of research for places in the area, and that’s when I stumbled upon Pizzeria Ristorante Alla Grotta.

I had actually accidentally walked past it on my way home without even realizing it was there. I hopped on my Onewheel and rode a few minutes down the road and almost missed it again. Once I finally found the entrance and went inside, I realized the place is enormous, and their pizza was honestly top-notch. I was really impressed. The service was great, the beer was cold, and the decor was really interesting as well. Would definitely go back 🙂

Trento wasn’t just another stop on a travel itinerary; it was a test run for real life. A place to imagine routines, taste the culture, and explore what it might feel like to build a life somewhere new. 

What I found was a city that doesn’t demand attention with flash or spectacle. Instead, it quietly reveals itself. Trento lives in layers. Some are visible in the stone and paint, others in the pace of daily life or the warmth of a restaurant owner’s conversation. That blend of history and everyday rhythms made something clear: this is a place where time doesn’t just pass – it lingers.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the kind of place you could grow into. Did I love it? Absolutely. Will I be back? Most definitely, and hopefully with my growing family in tow 🙂