Articles

  • 1 week ago | cdispatch.com | Robert St. John

    PETROGNANO, Italy — Something unexpected happened over the course of the last 13 years. A quiet village in the Tuscan hills – Barberino-Tavarnelle – became a part of my story. Since 2011, spread across weeks and months at a time, more than two and a half years of my life have unfolded here. That was never the intention. But some of life’s best chapters begin that way – unplanned, unannounced, and slowly embedded into who we are.

  • 1 week ago | supertalk.fm | Robert St. John

    St. John: The Best Job Ever There are many emotions associated with parenthood. Joy and amusement come to…In the late 1990s, I was asked by my local newspaper to…A few weeks ago, an interviewer asked, "Give me a typical day…It is said that Texans have unparalleled pride for their state. My…

  • 1 week ago | magnoliatribune.com | Robert St. John

    Robert St. John writes that building something from nothing – whether it’s a business or a town left in ruins – takes the same stubborn determination to press forward. Since 2017, over 1,350 people have traveled with me on more than 55 trips to seven European countries and 40 European cities. What started as a single, one-off trip hosting a few people interested in the people and places I had discovered in Tuscany has turned into a second business that occupies almost four months of my year.

  • 1 week ago | leader-call.com | Robert St. John

    PETROGNANO, TUSCANY — Since 2017, more than1,350 people have traveled with me on more than 55 trips to seven European countries and 40 European cities. What started as a single, one-off trip hosting a few people interested in the people and places I had discovered in Tuscany has turned into a second business that occupies almost four months of my year. That’s 14 weeks spent hosting American travelers in Europe — an incredible blessing I never take for granted. It’s work I’m deeply grateful to do.

  • 2 weeks ago | cdispatch.com | Robert St. John

    No one signs up for a European tour expecting to have lunch in a stranger’s home in a village so small, it doesn’t show up on most maps. But that’s exactly where my guests found themselves – deep in the Andalusian hills, breaking bread in the homes of Spanish women who didn’t speak our language but knew exactly how to make us feel at home. The journey to get there felt like a step back in time – narrow roads winding past olive groves, cell signals fading with each turn.

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