The identity of Trieste is usually defined through a look into the past, above all into the era of the flourishing of its port, trade, insurance industry, architecture and art within the Habsburg monarchy, and the cosmopolitan blend of cultures and languages that marked that time. But could we, for a change, look at it as a modern city?
It is true that the city’s population has been declining for quite some time and is now significantly smaller than it was a hundred years ago. The average age of its inhabitants is four years higher than the Italian average, which is already far from low. As for development, the city shows little momentum. In recent decades, no major development project has been completed; the renewal of the Old Port area has been discussed for as long as I can remember, and all signs suggest it will be for some time to come. Changes in the city are gradual and barely noticeable, so that at times it feels as if nothing is changing at all. Public space remains largely subordinated to motor traffic, greenery is scarce, sidewalks are often too narrow and in poor condition. Street renovations are relatively rare, and even when they happen, the redesigns are usually not very different from what was there before. Piazza Sant’Antonio, for example, is supposed to be renovated more than ten years after a competition for its redesign—yet hardly anything will change. Similarly, already agreed-upon and much-needed traffic changes to Via San Michele ultimately were not carried out.
And yet, the city is full of life, which is why it is loved by both locals and visitors from near and far—and this has nothing to do with nostalgic admiration of its former glory. What makes Trieste appealing is its people. Even outside the city center, the streets are filled throughout the day with people of all ages running errands or chatting casually. In squares and parks, benches are occupied by the elderly and families with young children, while slightly older children run around with their peers or kick a ball against a wall. Cafés in the center—partly taken over by tourists—are full, as are restaurants and trattorias across the city, where it’s truly easy to find a good meal. Local bars too are lively, where animated conversations flow over coffee or a glass of white wine, often spilling onto the sidewalk. It’s easy to feel that, at least in neighborhoods outside the very center, such as Roiano, San Giacomo or Barriera Vecchia, everyone somehow knows each other.
Especially precious are the many shops, bakeries, butchers, hair salons, clothing stores, pharmacies and hardware stores spread throughout the city’s neighborhoods. They make it possible for most residents to access all the essential services for daily life within just a few minutes on foot. And that is something very few cities in the developed world can boast of today—making Trieste, in this respect, truly modern.
Since the mid-20th century, most cities have sought to adapt to cars through the building and expansion of roads and the provision of abundant parking. Cars promised freedom and easy access to everything, but what they brought was dependency, traffic jams, massive consumption of energy and space, pollution, greenhouse gas emissions, and obesity. As awareness of the problems brought by car dependency has grown, various urban planning concepts have emerged in recent decades, aiming to design cities in such a way that residents can manage most of their daily needs on foot. “The city of short distances,” the “compact city,” or the “15-minute city” are just a few of the concepts describing this vision. Many cities worldwide, including Ljubljana, have set such restructuring as their goal. But they still have a long way to go.
Trieste, however, already has this. Most residents don’t need to get into a car to buy groceries, medicine, screws, or take care of insurance. This is practical, since it saves time; pleasant, since it allows people to meet others; and healthy, since it guarantees at least the minimal physical activity required for well-being. Moreover, more people in public space bring more customers for local services, which in turn supports and expands the range of those services within walking distance.
The question is whether we will be able to preserve and even strengthen this extraordinary feature of the city. Are the planned projects and developments moving in the right direction? Instead of a prohibitively expensive cable car, wouldn’t it make more sense to invest more public funds into redesigning public spaces in a way that is more pedestrian-friendly?
Originally published in Primorski dnevnik, 25 September 2025.