The Trevi fountain at dawn on our first day in Italy – Riley watches all the coins and wishes being swept up.

Where there’s a will there’s a way. This courtyard orange tree in Rome’s Old Town proves that the good life can grow from any nook and cranny if nurtured.

Il Mulino in Tuscany, looking exactly how I’d hoped it would, though we soon discovered that ‘rustic charm’ can also mean some rough living.

A slightly unorthodox classroom – the boys fit in some overdue schoolwork while Shannon tutors from the herb garden.

Aidan, Shannon and our host Stefan tending to hives in the hills of Tuscany.

Beautiful little scenes like this one appear all over Italy. There’s a postcard picture around every corner, and each one tempts me to stay a little longer.

Admiring Mount Vesuvius across the Bay of Naples. The volcano is long overdue for another eruption, and Aidan is sure it will be today. Everything feels more enticing from afar.

Gloriously, not a weed in sight in Sorrento on the Amalfi Coast.

Huddling strategically to hide the stains on our clothes and look like regular tourists in Positano, the most expensive town on the Amalfi Coast.

Matera is an ancient town of tamed and untamed rock – a perfect playground.

A job well done. Rows of tomato seedlings at Il Mulino.

A room with an old wooden desk, a balcony filled with fake flowers, and a view of Matera – my dream setup, though it’s a far cry from the farming life.

A garden in the sky and a view of the beautiful walled city of Lucca in Tuscany.

Literally eating into our hosts’ profits at Il Granello.

Shannon in his element, amongst the vines at Tenuta Antica in Piedmont.

Aidan with Pancetta, Il Granello’s unfortunately named pig. Like our hosts, who couldn’t bear to follow through with their original plans, Aidan grew very attached to her.

Riley’s great discovery – a loo with a view of a Venetian canal.

We’ve been hot and bothered and short of time, but resting on the steps of this tiny bridge I glimpse the Venice of my dreams.

The herbs we picked at Il Granello, bundled for sale at an organic market in Bologna – a satisfying sight after the hard work of harvesting.

Aidan’s smile is almost as wide as the lasagne he’s made in our host Pia’s kitchen in Cessole.

After a morning’s work, we wander the hills around Il Grenello near Bologna.