3 • Why I never reveal my favorite places

People often ask me the same question, their voices tinged with curiosity: "Can you tell me your favorite hidden village in Europe?" They are usually surprised when I decline. After all, helping people discover overlooked places is part of what I do. So why don’t I publish lists of secret villages, hidden gems, or undiscovered regions? Because the moment a hidden gem appears in a "Top 10" list, it stops being hidden. And some places are changed forever by being seen. The process is as predictable as it is inevitable. An article attracts attention. Attention attracts visitors. Visitors attract investors. Prices rise, and the place changes, sometimes forever.

What begins as a well-intentioned recommendation, an attempt to share something beautiful, can quickly spiral out of control into something entirely different. Behind the glowing rankings and the allure of discovery lies a reality that often goes unspoken: rising real estate prices, land speculation, housing shortages, and communities straining under the weight of rapid change.

What seems like a bargain for a newcomer may already be a burden for those who call the place home. What appears to be a promising opportunity for one can become a source of tension for those who have lived there for generations. The problem is not the newcomers. The problem is the speed of change.

Over the years, I have watched places I loved transform beyond recognition after being "discovered." Not because the newcomers were bad people: most arrived with good intentions, with dreams of a simpler life, a fresh start, a connection to something authentic. But territories need time to adapt. Communities need time to absorb change.

Porto is perhaps the best-known example, but it is far from the only one. Once a quiet, affordable city where locals and visitors coexisted in harmony, it has since become a symbol of the housing crisis sweeping across Europe. Similar stories unfold in countless destinations around the world, places where the influx of outsiders has reshaped the very fabric of daily life.

When change happens, housing prices soar, rental surges tighten, locbecome tighternesses cater to newadaptes, and the soul of a coessenceity can begin to fade. This is about blame, but about understanding that every choice we make ripples outward, touching lives in ways we may never see.

Because I do not believe places should be consumed like products. A village is not a lifestyle accessory. A region is not an Instagram backdrop. A place is a living, breathing ecosystem, woven from people, history, culture, relationships, and memories. When I work with clients, I help them find a place that aligns with their values, their rhythm, and their vision of life. But I never publish the destinations they choose: not on my website, not on social media, and not in newsletters. The place belongs to their story, not to my marketing.

Many people feel a genuine desire to reconnect with nature, simplicity, or a slower pace of life, and I understand that longing. In many ways, it reflects the challenges of our time: the rising cost of living, environmental concerns, a growing sense of disconnection, and the nagging feeling that something precious has been lost along the way.

But responding to those challenges should not mean reproducing the same patterns that created them in the first place. Moving abroad can be an extraordinary opportunity, not simply to consume a place, but to participate in it, to contribute to it, to learn from it, and to become part of a community rather than remain a spectator of it.

The goal is not to find the place everyone wants. The goal is to find the place that feels right for you. The most beautiful village in Europe may not be the right place for you. The most popular destination may be the wrong one. What matters is finding the place where your values, your rhythm, and your vision of life can quietly take root and flourish. And sometimes, the greatest act of respect we can offer a place is to let it remain itself.

Follow the story ...

	1 • I was born in France, but I had to travel the World to find home.
	2 • You're not choosing a country. You're choosing a life.
	3 • Why I never reveal my favorite places
	4 • The Geography of belonging: Slow expatriation
	5 • The Geography of opportunity • Why the countryside might be more relevant than ever
	6 • The Geography of dreams: Who decides what a successful life looks like?

I’m Leti (short for Laetitia). My life has unfolded between France, Morocco, India, and Réunion Island, shaped by rural and remote landscapes that taught me one thing: a place only becomes 'home' when you weave deep connections there. Today, I create projects for those who, like me, seek to live with intention, whether by settling abroad, reimagining their relationship with the countryside, or simply choosing a meaningful daily life.

My Incredible Life • European Conscious Slow Life Studio