Dispatches from Somewhere I’d Rather Be
What to expect: Notes on travel, taste, and mildly obsessive curiosities.
Hello there —
Have you ever stopped to appreciate the simplicity of a physical newspaper? Not the doomsday headlines or the soggy sports section, but the tactile rhythm of it—how you can unfold a morning, one story at a time, over a too-hot espresso. Maybe you’re doing this on a terrace in Portofino, watching the boats rock lazily in the Mediterranean, pretending you don’t have twenty unopened emails and a sunburn creeping in.
Anyway, this isn’t that.
This is a Substack. Which, for me, feels like the closest thing we’ve got these days to an analog corner of the internet. something slower, quieter, and a little more human. Like a well-worn café that serves decent wine by the glass and doesn’t ask you to scan a QR code to see a menu.
I have no idea what this newsletter is going to turn into. And that’s the point. I want it to evolve, like a good trip, or a bad haircut. For now, it’s a place where I’ll share what I’m seeing, where I’m going, and what I’m mildly obsessed with. Think: where to get a Negroni that’s worth ordering twice, the best secret swimming coves I probably shouldn’t tell you about, and restaurants that still feel like someone’s grandmother is cooking in the back (because she is).
I’ll also drop in what I’m reading, driving, watching, wearing, thinking about, or aimlessly researching at 2am when I should be asleep but instead I’m trying to figure out if Count Negroni really invented the drink or just got lucky at a bar one night.
This is for the romantics, the wanderers, the curious, and the ones who travel with a notebook, a camera, and a backgammon board just in case the moment calls for it. And maybe also the ones who understand the sacred beauty of a well-made club sandwich from room service. I want to hear from you too. questions, recommendations, brutal honesty. We’ll figure it out together. And we’ll probably spill something along the way.
Thanks for reading. I’m glad you’re here.
Ah, this makes me happy to see you and your creativity here, amigo.
I can relate and also miss newspapers. I delivered them as a kid and remember the inky blackness in my fingers and the satisfaction of landing the paper on the porch.