The psychological concept of ‘savoring’ (or ‘savouring’ if you’re fancy) has been around for a while, but it’s truly having a moment in recent months—and it’s a feeling that an inGamba tour will help you hone.
The idea of savoring is simple, but the practice takes effort, especially if you have an extremely busy work and family life. But when you make the space for the sensation, it can be a gamechanger. And there is no better way to experience the art of savoring than a bike tour with us.
Here’s why:
What is savouring? Defined by researchers as “the capacity to attend to, appreciate, and enhance the positive experiences in one’s life,” savoring essentially boils down to the idea of being fully present in a moment and realizing just how incredible that moment is.
Picture making it to the top of a mountain on the bike. You stop for a moment, taking in the scenic vista, breathing the crisp air. That’s the perfect example of savoring a moment. The counter to that? Even as you’re taking in the views, you snap out of the moment as you pull out your phone in order to capture the moment, only to spot a text from your boss that says ‘Call me!’
Sometimes, it takes a big shift in your lifestyle to relearn the art of savoring (and maybe putting your phone in do-not-disturb mode during rides). An inGamba experience like the Chianti Classico or any of our trips could be the shift in environment you need to get back to appreciating the everyday moments that make life great.
On an inGamba trip led by Giorgio, it’s impossible to not savor every moment. The man is a philosopher cyclist, musing about slowing down and embracing the ride. His focus isn’t about going as fast as he can up the mountain—though make no mistake, he’s quite speedy!—it’s about being present for every pedal stroke.
Off the bike, the savoring continues. Take mealtimes, for example. Evenings start in the cozy living room with a glass of sparkling wine or water and an appetizer. Conversations flow freely over thinly sliced local meats and cheeses, until the chef at Borgolecchi, Tommi Morgade, declares that dinner is ready. There’s no rush to move to the table, but everyone eventually gets there. But even with the meal itself, there’s an art of savoring involved.
Tommi serves courses, not meals. One of my personal favorite parts of eating at Borgolecchi was the slow pace of mealtimes that allowed us to truly savor each dish. You simply couldn’t speed through, barely tasting your food—something we all do when we’re busy at home or work. Here, you meander through mealtime, taking in the smells, textures, flavors, and even the visual beauty of the meals he prepares.
Every moment matters, and every moment is a chance to savor some small part of life. Stroll out to the veranda in the morning and savor the expansive view of the olive grove surrounded by the Italian countryside as the sun comes up. Savor the first sip of expertly prepared espresso and the flaky deliciousness of a croissant at breakfast. Savor the first descent, cruising out of Lecchi at the start of the ride. Savor the salty-sweet sip of Enervit sports drink midway through a tough climb. Savor the feeling of fatigue building in your legs as you crest the top of the climb and see that vista, and forget to pull out your phone to snap a photo (don’t worry, Giorgio or one of the soigneurs took one for you!). Savor the moment you come to a stop back at Lecchi after several hours on the bike and hand your bike to a mechanic. Savor the afternoon massage and how good it feels on your tired muscles. Savor the wine. Savor the food.
Most importantly, savor the conversations. Personally, the best part of the trip to me wasn’t the bike or the meals, it was how present I—and the other riders—were able to be during the down moments, where we were all seated at the big farm table or on the couches by the fire. No one scrolled their phones while attempting to vaguely listen to the conversations happening around them, everyone was fully present and involved. It’s a feeling that’s so rare nowadays, and it was a lesson that I certainly took home with me afterwards.
After that trip, I made changes: We banned phones at the table at home. We linger over meals more often, leaving the TV off. My phone is firmly set on do not disturb for rides. And throughout the day, I remind myself to pause and remember my favorite Kurt Vonnegut quote, the one I use as a shorthand to savor the moment: “If this isn’t nice, what is?”
