Walk through Rome this summer and something feels different. The crowds are still there, the tour buses still line up outside the Colosseum, but listen closely and you hear fewer American accents than usual. Guides who built their calendars around U.S. visitors say bookings are thinner. Even airlines admit it: flights from North America to Rome dropped nearly 17 percent this year.
Travel writer John Henderson, who has spent years charting Italy’s fortunes with tourists, recently reported that some agencies are down by as much as 30 percent in American clients. His piece puts into words what many in the industry have been sensing — 2025 has brought a wobble in transatlantic demand.
Why the slowdown? Part of it is simple math. The dollar doesn’t stretch as far as it did. Airfares are up, hotels are pricier, and everyday costs in Europe bite harder than they did even two summers ago. For a family in Chicago or Denver, the idea of “doing Italy” for two weeks suddenly feels like a luxury.
There are other factors too. Constant news of conflicts on Europe’s edges and fears about safety in crowded places weigh on people’s minds. And perhaps, after the frenzy of the post-pandemic rebound in 2023 and 2024, there’s a touch of fatigue. Those who rushed back to Paris and Venice might be pausing now, choosing a beach in Florida or a road trip across the U.S. instead.
Yet Italy hasn’t lost its pull. Rome is still busy thanks to the Jubilee, Florence still fills with art lovers, Venice still groans under day-trippers. But the way Americans travel is shifting. When they do come, they want something that feels worth the rising costs. They don’t just want to check boxes; they want to come home with a story, a taste, a memory that feels irreplaceable.
That’s where food comes in. A plate of hand-rolled tortellini, a tasting of balsamic vinegar drawn straight from a Modena attic, a walk through Parma’s ham cellars — these are the things that can’t be streamed or scrolled. They’re not just souvenirs; they’re experiences that touch all the senses.
Culinary travel has been growing for years, but in 2025 it feels like a lifeline. Small operators offering authentic encounters are the ones keeping bookings steady. Emilia Delizia, for example, runs small-group food tours in Emilia-Romagna. Instead of shuttling people through landmarks, they take visitors into the kitchens and farms, to taste Parmigiano Reggiano where it’s made, or join a truffle hunt in the Apennines. It’s less about sightseeing, more about immersion — and that’s what resonates with Americans who are making fewer, more meaningful trips.
The paradox of this travel dip is that it might not be bad for everyone. Fewer crowds mean richer experiences for those who do come. And for Italy, it’s a reminder that its strongest card has always been culture lived through daily life — meals, markets, conversations at the table — rather than grand monuments alone.
Will Americans return in greater numbers next year? Probably. Travel is cyclical, and the lure of Europe doesn’t vanish overnight. But 2025 is sending a signal: to keep long-haul visitors coming, it isn’t enough to rely on reputation. Experiences have to feel worth the flight and the price tag.
And nothing makes the case better than food.
