They keep asking: “But where do you actually find these places?”

The truth? I always pause for a second because the honest answer is: everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

I’ve moved from “a place is just where I put my bags and come to sleep, as long as the breakfast is good” to “hmmm, maybe some comfort isn’t the worst thing.” Call it experience. Call it getting old.

Yes, 9 times out of 10 I still open booking.com. I’m not above convenience.

But there’s a whole layer underneath that, at almost every price point you can think of, and that’s half the fun. So whether it’s your European summer, a weekend city break, or a cabin getaway (and honestly, we could all use a little bit of that lately), I tried to put together something for everyone.

Also, full transparency: I’ve tried some of these. Others I’ve just spent hours browsing, like a very committed travel detective. And: this is not sponsored and I don’t earn affiliates on any of these.

Let’s go.

The “this feels like a magazine” category

Boutique hotel booking sites for when design and experience matter more than price.

These are not for saving money, I’ll be honest. But you can find deals (which in this category means “paying a lot of money, just not that much”). They are usually beautiful. Or unique. Or both. These are for when you want to splurge, even if it’s just for one night.

Design Hotels lists so many cool boutique hotels around the world (especially newly opened ones) and runs specific discounts for members.

Tablet Hotels + Mr & Mrs Smith. Same energy, slightly different angle. Both are beautifully curated and worth bookmarking even just to browse.

The Opening List. For when you want to be the first. Newly opened hotels around the world, curated before everyone else has found them. I love this one because it scratches that very specific itch: discovering a place before it becomes the place everyone talks about.

Bouteco has its own curated list of independent, sustainable, design-led boutique hotels around the world. They feature so many cool places that have me daydreaming every single time. I love their mission.

Pretty Hotels. Exactly what it sounds like. Just: is it pretty? Yes. Listed.

i-escape. The mood is convenience meets everyday life. You’ll find really cool places, more affordable than the others, and also genuinely catered to families with kids. The filter options are great, and the “offers” section is a goldmine. They also give you a monthly view of rates so you can actually see when it’s cheapest to stay. I was daydreaming about a Riad in Marrakech on here for under 150€/night.

Stayfolio. I found this in my usual YouTube travel rabbit hole. Super curated toward South Korea but slowly expanding, especially across the rest of Asia. You’ll find stunning homes and boutique hotels.

CoolStays. I genuinely love their mission: support small, independent property owners, help local communities thrive, and encourage authentic, meaningful travel. It’s not about sleeping anymore, it’s about having a one-of-a-kind experience. Their stays are truly unique, often in the middle of nature, and the deals are real.

The Plum Guide. In my other life, I tried to be a travel agent. It’s definitely too stressful for me because I care too much about things I can’t control. I mention this because it’s how I found The Plum Guide: they emailed me directly to showcase their services. Think of it as a highly curated, vetted Airbnb with truly outstanding homes. The bar for what gets listed is genuinely high. Beautiful.

Off Grid Hideaways. The name does most of the work. Eco homes and slow travel retreats for when you want to disappear somewhere genuinely beautiful - not Instagram beautiful, actually beautiful. The kind of place that makes you forget what day it is by the second morning.

Boutique. If you want to sleep in places designed by genuinely great architects and designers, this is where you look. The houses are stunning, and since they usually fit more than 2 people, you can split the cost with friends or family. I’m daydreaming about this farmhouse in Piedmont on a regular basis.

Onefinestay. Think Boutique but with a full service layer on top. Someone has thought about everything before you arrive. The house is stunning, the details are sorted, and you just...show up and live in it for a few days. That fantasy? This is where you book it.

The “I need to disappear for 2 days” category

Off-grid cabin rentals and glamping sites for when you need to escape the city.

A very specific mood. Usually triggered by work. You know the kind of week where you don’t want a city, you don’t want a plan, you just want to disappear somewhere with no notifications. If it has a hot tub and no WiFi, I’m already sold.

Postcard Cabins (previously Getaway House, now bought by Marriott). One of the first with the original idea of tiny cabins to escape the city. US only.

Nature.house. If you’re a nature lover, or just occasionally dream about leaving everything behind and living in a cabin in the woods with modern comforts, this site is for you. The prices are human, and you get to sleep in breathtaking places. Their selection in the Netherlands alone is worth an hour of browsing.

Unyoked + RAUS. Both are off-grid cabin brands, not platforms. Unyoked started in Australia and now has cabins across Australia, New Zealand, and the UK too. RAUS started in Germany but they are expanding. Different geography, same idea: get out, switch off, actually breathe.

Canopy & Stars. The name gives all the vibes. My kind of camping, which means glamping under actual stars. Some of the options on here are genuinely ridiculous in the best way.

Hipcamp. Okay so camping is not really my thing. But if it were, this would be my place. Half a million sites, including private land you’d never find on your own. Less precious than the others in this section, more “just get me outside somewhere and make it easy.”

Glamping Hub. The promise is straightforward: lowest prices in the industry. Which means the weekend in the middle of nowhere might actually fit your budget.

The “ok but how is this so cheap?” category

Hotel deals, last-minute booking sites and secret discount platforms worth bookmarking.

This is where things get tactical. When you need a place to sleep with a five-star vibe but not the price tag. My budget traveler heart never fully left, it just learned to be sneaky about it.

Hotwire. One of the best secret deals sites I know. You don’t know the exact hotel until after you book. Now with AI you can usually figure it out beforehand if you hate surprises.

HotelTonight. Same last-minute energy, but you see exactly what you’re booking. Good for same-day or next-day trips when you just need something sorted fast.

Voyage Privé. A couple of friends booked their honeymoon here. Sri Lanka plus Maldives. They paid half the price they’d been quoted elsewhere, had a private driver for the entire Sri Lanka leg, and slept in one of those bungalow suites in the Maldives. I’m still hearing about it.

Roomer + PlansChange. Same concept: someone bought a hotel booking they can no longer use, and now you can get it cheaper. Roomer is the bigger one. PlansChange is newer but worth having bookmarked.

Luxury Escapes. Flash sales on luxury travel packages. The name is accurate.

The obvious ones (but still necessary)

The major hotel booking platforms. I couldn’t leave them out.

Let’s not pretend we don’t use them. Not sexy. But powerful.

Booking.com + Hotels.com. The workhorses. You know them. Use them to compare, use them to book, use them when you just need a room and don’t want to think about it.

Expedia + Trivago. Both are comparison tools more than booking platforms. Good for a quick price check across multiple sites without opening fifteen tabs.

Hostelworld. Am I the only one who finds hostels are getting expensive lately?

Agoda. More useful in Asia than anywhere else, similar to Trip.com. If you’re going to Southeast Asia, have it open alongside Booking.com and see which one wins.

Trip.com. I used it for my upcoming trip to China and it genuinely overperformed. A friend found amazing resort deals in Malaysia through it last year, the kind where you check twice to make sure it’s real.

Airbnb. I’ll confess, I don’t love it much lately. There are platforms doing a way better job. But it’s genuinely useful when you want to travel somewhere like Guadeloupe and have more sleeping options, or find a cool off-season place in Malta.

The “wait... this exists?” category

Alternative accommodation platforms and home exchange sites you probably didn't know existed.

I found most of these by accident. And every single time I thought: why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? Some feel like hacks. Some feel like a whole lifestyle.

RedWeek. A marketplace that connects travelers with individual timeshare owners who aren’t using their slots. You get access to resort-level accommodation at prices that actually beat hotels. The concept is so interesting I couldn’t ignore it, even though resorts aren’t usually my thing.

HomeExchange. The name explains the model. My cousin has been using it for years and saved hundreds of euros traveling around the world.

Kindred. Same concept as HomeExchange. They found me on Instagram, which says something about their marketing.

Outsite. A global network of coliving spaces designed for remote workers and digital nomads, combining design-forward apartments with coworking areas. If you’ve ever wondered what a better Airbnb for long-term stays looks like, this is probably it.

Blueground. Fully furnished, beautifully designed apartments available for monthly stays in major cities worldwide. The closer alternative to renting your own apartment, without the nightmare of setting one up.

The “you don’t book here, you discover here” category

Travel magazines, journals and Substackers worth following for inspiration.

Yolo Journal. They have a whole section called “Black Book” and I love using it for inspiration, both for places to sleep and places to eat.

The Aficionados. Same spirit as Yolo Journal, slightly more fashion-world adjacent. Beautiful photography, very specific taste level, the kind of site that sends you somewhere you’d never have thought of on your own.

Suitcase Magazine. When this arrives in my inbox, I always open it. Always. It’s beautifully written and I’ve never regretted a click.

Fellow Substackers I genuinely love:

Soft Hours. I love the way Julia writes. Relatable and down to earth. Her Sri Lanka stories made me want to go back immediately. The writing is just like the name: soft.

So there’s a place. From a former fashion editor turned travel writer. The only phrase for it is “impeccable taste.”

Once in. I love the doodles but also the in-depth guides. The work behind each one is real, and I genuinely enjoy it every time.

A few more that deserve a spot

More under the radar. This is the layer where things start to feel like insider information.

Small Luxury Hotels of the World. Every single property on here has been physically visited by someone before it gets listed. Not reviewed. Not rated by an algorithm. Visited. And their magazine is genuinely good - I’ve been sent down rabbit holes more than once.

Welcome Beyond. The filter is simple: does it have real design, real personality, real soul? If not, it doesn’t make it. The result is a collection that goes from caves in Sicily to farmhouses in New York and riads in Marrakech.

Sawday’s. Very British, very specific energy. Farmhouses, B&Bs, inns with a dog by the fire and an owner who actually knows every hiking trail within 10km. The kind of place your city brain desperately needs sometimes.

Strawberry. Found this one completely by accident and immediately fell down a rabbit hole. It’s a Nordic hotel and experience platform covering hotels, restaurants, spas and meetings across Scandinavia. The concept is genuinely cool: one membership, one app, an entire region unlocked. If the Nordics are on your list (and honestly, should they not be?), this is where you start.

Further Afield. What I love here is that they don’t just find you a place to sleep - they build the whole experience around it. It changes how you think about a destination before you’ve even packed.

So what’s the point of all this?

Not to overwhelm you.

But to show you that there isn’t just one way to find and book a hotel anymore. You can optimize for price, or for design, or for actually feeling something. And depending on the trip, you can switch completely.

And now, my actual process, if you’re curious. I find the place through a curated site, Instagram, a magazine, or a fellow Substack writer. I check the reviews on Tripadvisor, because other travelers post photos that show you what the hotel doesn’t want you to see. I compare prices on two or three platforms. Then I book wherever it’s cheapest. No loyalty. I’m still a budget traveler at heart, remember.

Final thought

Let me know if you’ve ever used any of these. Your favorites, your experiences, the ones you can’t wait to try. And let me know if this kind of newsletter is useful - I had a lot of fun putting it together.

See you next week. As always, halfway packed.

p.s. the image of the cover is from palacioerick

In a moment where well, the world is on fire, I acknowledge that, I’m pissed but also the only way to regulate my nervous system right now is going back to calmer times or...trips. I hope this can help you as well to escape at least for a little bit of time of the hell that was unleashed.

This was one of those trips. The ones you dream about but file under “someday” because they feel impossible unless you give up a kidney or win the lottery.

To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I’d like it. I usually lean adventurous…think honeymoon in Costa Rica with jungle hikes, rafting, and volcanoes. The idea of doing nothing for five days? Sounded...boring. Cabo Verde had been enough for me.

I told myself Maldives was overhyped. Too expensive. Too curated. Too resort-y. And maybe I believed it. Or maybe I was just being the fox who couldn’t reach the grapes.

Then something changed.

In 2023 WizzAir opened new routes to Abu Dhabi, prices dropped, and local islands in the Maldives started popping up on my feed. Small guesthouses, budget-friendly, nothing like the overwater bungalow version everyone sells you. Suddenly the trip looked possible. After a lot of Googling, we were booked for early December. Five slow days in what I hoped would be paradise.

Spoiler: it was.

The journey to Mathiveri

It took a 24-hour flight and a boat ride to get there. But when the plane started descending and I saw those unreal shades of blue…it already felt worth it. The boat ride was packed with locals hopping between islands. Just their normal. Their everyday. That alone felt like a privilege to witness.

We were exhausted, but happy.

Mathiveri is a local island, unknown to most. That’s exactly why I picked it. Fewer tourists, no fancy resorts, just a small guesthouses. Staying on a local island is also how you do the Maldives without spending a fortune - we paid a fraction of what a resort would cost. They lent us a kayak. We rented snorkel gear. They organized all of the day trips. Everything felt simple and just right.

A day on a Maldives local island

To stay, I can’t recommend Veli Beach Inn enough. It’s just in front of the beach. It has a range of amenities, including a restaurant, a 24-hour front desk, and complimentary WiFi. They also have all the materials to snorkel and kayak.

The staff is fantastic, and I’m sure you’ll feel welcome and at home in paradise.

Start with a Maldivian breakfast. Warm, flavorful, filling. You can ask for something more “continental,” but honestly, why would you?

Then go on an excursion. Swim with mantas (from a respectful distance). Snorkel in the kind of reef you’ve only seen in documentaries. Or go diving if that’s your thing - you won’t regret it.

Lunch is light. Grab snacks at the local shops and stroll the island. It takes about 15 minutes to cross it end to end. Everyone knows everyone. That sense of community, you can feel it in the air. And they make you feel part of it.

Then it’s time for the beach. And I mean just the beach. Read (my husband said I won the “reading championship” for the week), nap, snorkel again, take too many photos of that impossible blue. Kayak to the next island if you’re up for it.

One day I looked around and thought: this is exactly what paradise should feel like.

Dinner is whatever they caught that day. Simply grilled fish, Maldivian curries, fresh fruit. One night we ate barefoot by candlelight, toes in the sand, no music, no dress code, just waves and quiet. The opposite of what you’d see on Instagram, and maybe that’s why it felt so unforgettable.

Things no one tells you about

Talk to people - your hosts, the man at the souvenir shop, the little girl who hides from the rain under your porch. Just talk. These are the moments that stay with you.

You’ll probably spot small sharks. Yes, it’s safe.

Staying on a local island costs significantly less than a resort. Trust me.

Bring your own alcohol if you must. There’s none on local islands.

Mathiveri is Muslim - dress appropriately and stick to designated beaches. Respect goes a long way. Be a guest, not just a visitor.

If you stop in Malé overnight, I found a café I’d absolutely go back to.

It rained one whole day. We stayed in, read, napped. And when the showers came back the next days, we just swam anyway. Paradise isn’t ruined by a little rain.

What Maldives actually taught me

Instagram Maldives? Gorgeous, yes. But often a luxury bubble, one you pay thousands for to be isolated from any real sense of place.

The real Maldives is the local islands. The ones where you’re invited into someone else’s world, where dinner is shared, stories are exchanged, and sunsets are for watching, not posting.

Turns out, paradise isn’t something you book. It’s something you let happen.

So, what’s your version of paradise? Drop a reply and let’s swap stories.

Thanks for reading all the way through. Thanks for being here.

See you next week. Still halfway packed. Always.

P.S. If you’re planning a budget Maldives trip and want the full breakdown - guesthouse name, excursion costs, how to get there - you can download the full FREE guide here. It’s oldie but always goodie!

But I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time researching it, bookmarking it, and quietly moving it to the top of my list every time I open a new tab at midnight instead of sleeping. My husband has stopped asking what I’m reading about.

At some point I figured: why wait until I’ve actually done it? You might be planning your Italian summer right now. And frankly, I’d rather give you this while it’s useful than sit on it until I finally get there and realize I should have gone two years ago.

The train is called the Ferrovia delle Centovalli. Centovalli means “hundred valleys,” and it runs from northern Italy into southern Switzerland through countryside that somehow hasn’t been ruined yet. No big tourism machine behind it. No Instagram queue. It’s been running since the early 20th century because people who live there actually use it, and the fact that it’s become a travel thing feels almost accidental.

It’s not a tourist gimmick. It’s how people in those valleys actually move through the world, and you get to borrow that for a day.

Let’s start the night before

The departure point is Domodossola. Not a station in Milan. An actual small town, about 130 km north of the city, at the foot of the Alps.

Getting there the morning of is technically possible. But I wouldn’t recommend it.

Sleep in Domodossola. You’ll want the full day, you’ll want to make stops, and the town itself has a historic center that deserves a slow evening walk and a glass of something cold before everything starts.

Three places worth looking at:

Antica Dimora del Mercato sits right on Piazza del Mercato. You open the front door and you’re already in the square. The actual square where Domodossola happens. Its pretty new.

Dimora Domese is quieter, more intimate. A renovated 16th-century building with the kind of bones that make you feel like you’re staying somewhere, not just sleeping somewhere. Rated 8.6.

Agriturismo Edoardo Patrone is for a completely different mood: countryside, terrace, inner courtyard, mountain air, the full agriturismo fantasy. You’ll need a car.

Getting there and booking your ticket

From Milan by train: Trenord runs from Milano Centrale throughout the day, starting around 6 AM. Book at trenord.it or at the station counter. The ride is easy, the views already start getting good.

By car: A26/E62, type “Domodossola Centro” into your GPS. Free parking at Via Piave (right in front of the departure tunnel) or paid parking at Piazza Matteotti next to the Post Office. Both should work.

For the Centovalli itself: tickets start from €20 per person round trip, which for what you’re getting is almost suspiciously cheap. When you book, you choose the panoramic carriage (you choose the panoramic carriage, I don’t want to hear arguments) and which stops you want to make. Children’s discounts available. Heating and AC on board. One wheelchair-accessible spot per carriage with lift assistance at Domodossola, Santa Maria Maggiore, and Locarno. If you need that service, contact them at least 48 hours ahead at info@vigezzinacentovalli.com or +39 0324 242055.

Their own booking guide is actually useful. Read it before you plan your stops.

Oh, and bring your passport or ID. You’re crossing into Switzerland. I cannot stress how much you don’t want to be the person who figures this out on the platform.

The journey itself

One day, many stops. Here are the ones that keep coming up in everything I’ve read, and that I’ve been mentally walking through at midnight instead of sleeping:

Domodossola is your starting point, but don’t just show up and board. Give it a proper morning first. The Sacro Monte Calvario is worth the climb, and the medieval center has that particular Italian quality where time seems to run slightly slower.

Santa Maria Maggiore is for wandering without an agenda. The Chiesa di San Gaudenzio is the thing people photograph, but the streets around it are the actual point. One of those places where you look up and realize you’ve been walking for an hour and you don’t know where you are and you don’t care.

Intragna is where you get off and hike down to the river waterfall. Not a hard hike. But the valley opens up in a way that’s difficult to describe without sounding like a tourism brochure, so I’ll just say: go.

Verdasio is quieter than quiet. The Ethnographic Museum sounds like the kind of thing you’d skip, but don’t. It gives you actual context for how people built their lives in these valleys for centuries, which makes the train ride feel less like a scenic attraction and more like something real.

Locarno is Switzerland, and it lands like Switzerland does. Suddenly cleaner, suddenly more organized, the espresso worse. But Piazza Grande is genuinely beautiful, the Castello Visconteo is worth an hour, and a boat ride on Lago Maggiore is the kind of ending that makes you feel like you’ve earned something.

If you want everything planned for you, they also have tons of organized experiences. I would check them out!

What to eat along the way

Northern Italy bleeding into southern Switzerland means the food is heavy, cheese-forward, and deeply unapologetic about it. This is not the coast. This is the mountains. Eat accordingly.

In Domodossola, find Risotto alla Valdostana, Fontina cheese melted into risotto. It sounds simple because it is. Simply delicious.

In Santa Maria Maggiore, Polenta Taragna. Buckwheat polenta with melted cheese and cured meats. If you think you don’t like polenta, you haven’t had it made properly. This is your chance.

In Intragna, Pizzoccheri, buckwheat pasta with potatoes, cabbage, and more cheese, because apparently this region decided that delicacy was for somewhere else.

In Verdasio, Brasato al Barolo. Beef braised in Barolo wine. Piedmont flexing, as it tends to do.

In Locarno, Risotto ai Funghi with foraged mushrooms. Order it and spend the rest of the train ride thinking about it.

The ticket doesn’t include meals, but some carriages have a buffet for an extra fee. You can also pack your own lunch and eat it watching valleys pass.

One last thing

Every season works. Autumn turns the valleys gold. Winter brings the kind of snow-capped silence you only see in films. Spring is wildflowers and waterfalls going full force after the melt. Summer is warm days and that particular golden mountain light that doesn’t exist at sea level.

It’s not a demanding trip. It’s a slow one, which is different, and harder to find than it sounds.

You’re not rushing through Italy. You’re moving through it the way it was meant to be moved through, with actual room to look out the window.

I’ll be on this train eventually. And when I am, you’ll get the real version. The one with the things that went wrong, the stop I probably shouldn’t have made, the restaurant someone recommended that was either genius or deeply questionable.

For now, this is what I’ve got. Research, instinct, and an embarrassing number of browser tabs.

A note on the photos

The images in this post belong to the Ferrovia Vigezzina Centovalli. I used them because they show this journey better than anything I could have taken myself - given that, well, I haven’t been there yet. All credit goes to them, and I’m grateful they exist so I could show you what’s waiting.

Thanks for being here.

See you next week, as always, halfway packed.

I’ve been there before. Island of Salt. Ilha do Sal. Sorry…the Portuguese side of me insists on saying it properly.

The moment the documentary started, I could hear the waves. I could feel my feet in the sand. The shade of a huge umbrella. A caipirinha in my left hand. This song playing in the background like it had been written just for that week.

That’s how vacation memories work, I think. They’re not logical. They’re sensory. A mix of sounds, smells, textures strong enough to bring everything back the second you hear a familiar note.

This is an ode to the vacation where I finally learned how to slow down.

Ilha do Sal, Cabo Verde

Ilha do Sal isn’t a secret island. Most Europeans know it for its beaches and for sports like kitesurfing and windsurfing. It’s one of the easiest Cabo Verde islands to reach, which makes it accessible…and popular.

But it’s more than beaches.

There’s a rhythm to life there. A “no stress” energy. You feel it almost immediately.

Most people stay in Santa Maria, the island’s main town, and honestly…I think that’s the right choice. Imagine sandy streets, colorful houses, bars and restaurants everywhere, and then this huge stretch of beach just steps away.

If you’re wondering where to stay in Ilha do Sal, Santa Maria gives you that balance between relaxation and movement.

A day in my life on Ilha do Sal

Not a list. Just a day.

We stayed at Ocean Suites, where each room is dedicated to a Cape Verdean artist. The hotel has a bar that becomes a sort of gathering point at night.

One thing to know though. The service is excellent and the rooms are clean… but you will hear the noise from downstairs. It wasn’t a big deal for us. But it’s worth knowing before you book.

First things first. Breakfast. Local breakfast. Café Criolo.

We went where the locals go and ate what they eat. Cachupa. The national dish of Cabo Verde. A slow-cooked stew of corn, beans, vegetables, sometimes fish or meat. Hearty. Humble. Comforting.

If that’s not your vibe, don’t worry. You’ll also find yogurt bowls, fresh fruit, toast, coffee, tea. The place isn’t fancy, but the prices are fair compared to other tourist spots in Santa Maria, and the food is simple and good.

Then straight to the beach.

I’m not a beach club girl. We brought sunscreen, towels, water… and just stayed. Relaxed. Watched the waves. Walked along the shore. Took too many photos. People watched.

When the sun got high and we needed something cold, we went to Beach Bar Ola Brasil.

A simple beach bar, run by a Brazilian if I remember correctly, serving the best caipirinha I’ve ever had.

That moment… sitting there with my drink, salty hair, sun on my shoulders… that was my favorite part of the day.

They also serve quick sandwiches if you need something light.

After sun and drinks, it’s shower time. And then dinner.

Before I leave the restaurant names, you need to know what to eat in Cabo Verde.

For me, lagosta suada forever. Is lobster cooked slowly in a rich tomato, onion, garlic, and pepper sauce. It’s not fancy. It’s not plated like fine dining. It’s generous, saucy, messy in the best way. You eat it with bread. You take your time. You talk in between bites.

We also had fresh fish. Simple. Perfect. Grilled and seasoned with almost nothing because it doesn’t need anything else.

For lagosta suada, go to Barracuda.

And if you’re craving meat in a truly homey environment, Santa Grelha.

After dinner, it’s time to stroll. Santa Maria is small and walkable, full of little bars. A couple of drinks here, some music there… and of course, if you’re staying at Ocean Cafe, you’ll probably end up back at their bar anyway.

What to do in Ilha do Sal (if you don’t want to just beach)

If you don’t want to spend your entire trip on the beach, there are day trips worth doing.

You can visit the Salinas and float in the salt lakes. Play with mirage illusions in the desert. Explore the caves at Buracona and watch the “Blue Eye” phenomenon. Swim in natural pools. Depending on the season, you can also see sea turtles laying eggs or go dolphin and whale watching.

We did a turtle experience once. It was magical…but also overwhelming. Too many tourists. Too many phones. I promised myself that if I ever do it again, I’ll choose more carefully.

The kind of island that stays with you

On our last day, our taxi driver accepted to be paid on the return trip (we changed hotels and where further from the center because…our flight was cancelled) because we didn’t have enough cash. He trusted us. We came back. We paid him.

And the sunsets. They just hit differently in Cabo Verde.

A few random things

I bought a handmade doll as a souvenir. I prayed it would survive the journey home. It did.

Book your activities on site. You’ll almost always pay less than booking online in advance.

And because I promised the good, the bad, and the ugly…I had the worst period cramps of my life during this trip. One full day in bed. Sweating. Crying.

We also had a flight to Boa Vista, another island, with a local carrier that was… cancelled.

And there was another layer to the island that stayed with me.

Ilha do Sal has a reputation for sexual tourism, and at times you could sense it. Older European women with very young Cape Verdean men. It wasn’t something hidden in the background. It was simply there.

I don’t know their stories. I don’t know their arrangements. But travel isn’t only sunsets and seafood. Sometimes it’s noticing the dynamics that sit quietly under the surface.

Vacations are not what you see on social media. Things happen. Bodies happen. Flights get cancelled. Complex realities exist.

And still… it was one of the trips that taught me the most about slowing down.

Not because everything was easy, but because I stopped trying to make it perfect. I stayed when plans changed. I rested when my body forced me to. I let the island be what it was. That’s what slowing down looked like.

Thanks for following along. Truly.I’ll see you next week. Always halfway packed.

P.S. This trip was in 2017, so I know things may have changed since then. If you go, please let me know how it feels now. Some places weren’t open at the time, but I’ve only included the ones I’m confident about.

Some places open themselves to you immediately. Others keep their distance, no matter how much time you give them. Fez, for me, was the second kind.

Where Marrakech felt almost familiar, Fez stayed elusive. A city of labyrinths, missed turns, moments of beauty, and moments of discomfort.

It’s a few days of wrong turns, small discoveries, and learning to be okay with not fully understanding a place.

At this point, I guess this is turning into a sort of Morocco thing (I refuse to call it a “series”… that word has been absolutely ruined by Instagram).

Marrakech came with two long posts. Fez gets one. Not because it deserves less love, but because I don’t think I stayed long enough to really feel it the way I did with Marrakech.

When I left Marrakech, I had this strange sensation of knowing the Medina. Its rhythms, its shortcuts, its logic… almost like I’d lived there. Fez, instead, remained mostly a mystery.

Sleeping in the heart of Fez Medina (where to stay in Fez)

Fez, the oldest of Morocco’s imperial cities, isn’t really one city but three: Fes El Bali, Fes El Jadid, and the Ville Nouvelle.

Founded in 789 AD and now a UNESCO World Heritage site, Fez Medina is one of the largest car-free urban areas in the world. Thousands of narrow streets fold into each other like a maze designed to test your patience…

And trust me when I say labyrinthine, I mean it. I genuinely think Fez is easier to get lost in than Marrakech. Google Maps won’t save you, I tried. You’ll need an old school printed map from your riad… and a bit of humility.

A small tip that saved us more than once: street signs actually help. A hexagon marks a dead end, while a square means the street continues.

We chose to stay inside Fes El Bali, the medieval Fez Medina, right in the middle of everything. Choosing a riad inside Fes El Bali completely changes the experience. You’re not visiting the medina. You’re living inside it.

Simply arriving at our riad was an adventure. Lots of phone calls. A bit of confusion. Some improvising. But we made it.

Both of our riads were near Bab Bou Jeloud, also known as the Blue Gate, one of the main entrances to Fez Medina. That turned out to be the best decision for coming and going, because once you step inside, it’s all on foot through narrow.

Our stay was unexpectedly extended after a cancelled flight… of course. That meant we experienced two different riads in Fez.

If I had to recommend one, it would be Riad Dar Omar. Being there feels a little like being in Omar’s home, because it is. He runs it on behalf of the family who owns it, and the terrace… we spent more time there than we planned.

What to do in Fez (a “gentle” 3 day plan)

We only had three days in Fez, so the plan was simple.

One guided tour.
A few hours in a hammam.
A day trip to Chefchaouen aka The Blue City.
Good Moroccan food.
And our usual 20k steps wandering through the medina.

The weather was perfect. Not too cold, not too warm. That sweet in between.

We booked a private full-day tour with an incredible woman-owned company. Our guide, Mr Idrissi, a true Fez native, walked us through the layered history of the city, both inside and outside the walls.

We visited the breathtaking El Attarine Medersa, explored the oldest parts of Fez Medina, stopped at the famous tanneries of Fez with their colorful stone vats used to dye leather, yes, the smell is real, passed by the Royal Palace gates and the Mellah, the historic Jewish quarter, and paused at panoramic viewpoints overlooking the entire city.

But the most memorable part wasn’t the monuments. It was sharing local delicacies in a place I wouldn’t be able to find again even if I tried. Sitting there, eating something delicious, surrounded by curious locals wondering what on earth we were doing there… that’s the kind of moment that stays.

If you do just one thing in Fez, make it this tour.

And yes, Fez is famous for its ceramics and tiles. I brought home two small blue tea cups from Art Naji, and I already know I’ll treasure them forever.

A hammam with a view

We spent an afternoon at the hammam inside Riad Laaroussa. Private. Traditional bath and scrub. A deeply relaxing massage. After that, we were offered a cup of mint tea on this spectacular terrace overlooking the city.

Every time I leave Morocco, I think the same thing. Massages should be medically prescribed. In Italy they cost a fortune… and yet they might be one of the most effective remedies we have for stress, overload, and the general state of the world.

Chefchaouen

Day trip from Fez (The Blue City)

Yes, we went.

Chefchaouen is exactly as touristy as you imagine, and exactly as photogenic. Why is it blue? There are theories. Religious symbolism. Aesthetic choice. No one really agrees.

Is it visually striking? Absolutely.
Will someone try to sell you something at every corner? Also yes.

It wasn’t fully our vibe, if I’m being honest. But the highlight… lunch. Always lunch.

We ate at Sofia, a small female owned restaurant tucked into a quiet alley. Simple food, generous portions, please try the couscous, deeply satisfying. Go early. A mix of locals and curious travelers fills it quickly.

Where to eat in Fez (restaurants I loved)

Now, the part many of you are waiting for.

Two places really stood out.

Cafe Clock is popular with digital nomads, tourists, and students quietly working on assignments. It’s where I tried camel burger for the first time in my life. The vibe was right. The prices slightly higher. They also have a location in Marrakech.

Quick disclaimer. I’m a very curious eater when I travel. There’s almost nothing I won’t try. I’d rather say “I didn’t like it” than regret not tasting it.

But where Fez truly shined was Ishq Restaurant.

Sophisticated Moroccan cuisine. Gasp-worthy design and architecture. A terrace overlooking the city.

If you go early, you can catch the sunset… which already tells you everything you need to know.

The vibe was immaculate. The food is genuinely outstanding. Perfect for a date night. The owner walks around greeting guests, stopping for a brief word here and there. It feels refined and familiar at the same time, which is rare.

When getting lost isn’t romantic

A while ago, I watched two of my favorite travel youtubers talk about how Morocco, especially Marrakech and Fez, wasn’t for them.

The constant haggling.
The feeling of being followed.
The persistent sensation of being lost.

And honestly… I get it.

In Fez, we skipped a restaurant because Google Maps failed us, and the smaller alleys weren’t visible on our paper map. We ended up lost in a maze. A group of young men called out, offering help. When we politely declined, the situation escalated and became aggressive. It wasn’t easy to handle.

Did this ruin our time in Fez? No. We were prepared.

Before every trip, I try to understand which scams are common. Not to travel in fear, but to travel aware. I understand, at least in part, where some of this behavior comes from. Real people trying to survive.

Not every destination is for everyone. And preparation helps you show up informed, not afraid.

Travel is like life. Things happen.

I didn’t want to end this Fez story on a bittersweet note, but maybe it’s the Milan weather talking. As I write this, we’re in the Giorni della Merla, the coldest days of the year in Italian folklore. Grey, foggy, bone cold days that make everything feel slightly heavier.

And maybe that’s okay too.

Thanks for being here.

I’ll see you next Monday, wherever we end up, always halfway packed.

Some of these spots are well-known now. Some are quieter. What matters more than ticking them off is how you move through Marrakesh - slowly, respectfully, and with room to be surprised.

SLEEP

The first trip, we stayed at Riad l’Heure d’Eté. The food was so absurdly good that we (almost) abandoned all plans to explore different restaurants. Most nights it was only us, candlelight, one incredible dish after another.

Second time around: Riad Chez Henriette. Beautiful, warm, impeccably hosted. But I’ll be honest - the first riad had more space, more of that feeling like we’d slipped into someone’s private world. Both are worth it, though. Just know that riads aren’t hotels…they’re intimate, wonderfully imperfect, and always alive with personality.

WHAT PULLED ME IN

Palais de la Bahia for stunning tilework, sprawling courtyards, the kind of beauty that makes you walk slower. Get there early if you can stand it.

Tombeaux Saadiens is quieter, older, and smaller. There’s something humbling about standing among centuries of history compressed into such a peaceful space.

Jardin Majorelle is now everyone’s postcard. Yes, it’s crowded. Yes, you’ve seen it on Instagram. But the cobalt blue against the desert light? Still worth it. Go at the opening if you want it to yourself.

Medersa Ben Youssef might be my favorite place in the entire city. The carved wood, the geometric perfection of the tiles, the courtyard that seems to hold silence like a secret. I sat there longer than I needed to. I didn’t want to leave.

Obviously, Jemaa el-Fna and the souks. The main square at sunset is chaos in the best possible way - smoke rising from grills, people coming trying to sell you anything, the call to prayer layering over everything. You can’t control it. You just move through it.

Maison de la Photographie was a quiet gift. Old images of Morocco, a rooftop with views, a moment to catch your breath and think.

Jardin Secret was another hidden garden tucked into the medina. If you need to escape the noise for an hour, this is where you go.

WHERE I ATE

Café des Épices sits right in the thick of the souq. It’s touristy now, sure. But sometimes you just need to sit above the chaos with mint tea and watch the world spin below you. It still works.

Al Baraka is where our first riad sent us. Full disclosure: it’s got the belly dancing, the explained dishes, the group energy. It’s tourist-friendly. But back when we went, it felt special. Manage expectations accordingly.

Le Trou Au Mur gave us sunset, exceptional service, and so much food we could barely move afterward. The rooftop is magic, but even inside, the design makes you want to stay. Book ahead online.

DADA Marrakech - I never made it, which haunts me a little. It kept appearing in recommendations as creative, vibrant, full of energy. If you go, please report back.

THE HAMMAM (please, just do it)

The only name I give to everyone I know: Hammam de la Rose. I did the hammam and then added a massage.

If you take one piece of advice from this entire guide, let it be this: do the hammam.

You will be scrubbed, steamed, softened, and reborn. I walked out feeling like a completely different version of myself. Book it. You’ll thank me.

SHOPPING BEYOND THE SOUQ

The souks are an experience…and yes, you should wander them. But if you want to shop with intention and directly support artisans, head to Ensemble Artisanal.

It’s the artisan center, a bit outside the old medina, so stop by on your way back from Jardin Majorelle. You’ll find leather, textiles, ceramics, metalwork - all made locally, usually fairly priced, with way less pressure than the souks.

THINGS I’D TELL YOU IF WE WERE SITTING IN A RIAD COURTYARD

Don’t rush Marrakesh. It’s not a place you tick off - it’s a place that seeps into you slowly, through the light, the sounds, the food, the conversations with strangers who become guides.

Dress with respect. Shoulders and knees covered, especially in the medina and religious sites. It’s not restrictive, it’s just being a good guest.

Haggle, but do it kindly. This is how commerce works, but remember: you’re negotiating with someone’s livelihood, not playing a game.

Put your phone away more than you think you need to. The souks smell like leather and spices. The call to prayer sounds different depending on where you’re standing. The light at sunset turns everything gold. These are things you feel, not photograph.

Be aware, but don’t be paranoid. Keep your bag close in crowded areas, don’t flash valuables, stay present. Marrakesh isn’t dangerous, it’s just intensely alive.

And most importantly: remember you’re a guest. Not a conqueror, not a collector, not a critic. A guest. That changes everything.

See you next week, halfway packed.

And thank you - for reading, for being here, for letting these stories travel with you.

My first time in Marrakech was back when Instagram was just a place to post cute photos for your friends. No hype, no saved places, no “you have to go here.” Things felt… simpler.

It was also the first time my husband ever set foot in Africa. And watching him experience it was honestly one of the best parts. He noticed everything I don’t really notice anymore: the chaotic traffic (him holding on for dear life in a taxi on the way to the Yves Saint Laurent Museum is one of the most hilarious memories of my life), people trying to sell you literally anything, the warm, spiced food, the sunsets.

Yes. Sunsets in Africa really do hit differently. I don’t know why. They just do.

I’d love to show you more photos from that first trip. I really would.
Unfortunately, the 2016 Marrakech photos are gone.
We didn’t lose them. My husband did.
So you’ll have to trust my memory. Or my tone.

Coming back

This year I went back to Marrakech for the second time.

I had way less time and honestly, no desire to do the tourist things again. So I didn’t. I just ate, walked around the Medina, and drank an embarrassing amount of mint tea (with a recipe that only works there and absolutely nowhere else…trust me).

Marrakesh has changed. A lot.

It feels more Instagram now. More curated. More…expected. People don’t really haggle like before, they just buy whatever they see. Prices are higher. A lot of shops sell the same things. You know the ones - the things you’ve already seen all over your feed.

Some places feel less simple than they used to. Less homey. More styled. More “designed.”

That doesn’t mean it’s bad. Morocco invested heavily in tourism, and that matters. But yeah - some things were lost along the way.

Where we slept

We’re not the kind of travelers who spend much time in the hotel because we’re out all day. But we’re also getting older, and next time we’ll probably spend a bit more coins on where we sleep.

If you’re going to Marrakech, I still think staying in a riad in the Medina makes sense. Everything is close, and you actually feel inside the city.

Two things to know:

• Riads usually have very narrow stairs.

• You will hear your neighbors. All of them. Yes, I’m talking about the American couple who arrived at 3 a.m. and woke up half the place.

Breakfast was great, though. So it evens out.

Do a few things early

There are some things people expect you to see - the Madrassa, the El Bahia palace, the Yves Saint Laurent Museum. They’re worth it, go early. Morning Marrakech is quieter. It feels different. That’s all I’ll say for now.

The Souk

Then it’s time for the real part. Get lost. Please. Walk without a plan. Turn where you’re not sure you should. That’s still where Marrakech works.

My souvenirs are almost always spices. They’re cheap, good, and easy to throw into a carry-on. We also bought a pair of babouches. At some point, sit down for mint tea.

If you have more time

A few things I’d add:

• A proper hammam. With a massage. Couples, friends, whatever.

• A lunch spot that somehow survived the tourist wave, where locals still eat and the tajine is… a lot. I’ll drop the names in the next issue.

That’s it for now. This isn’t a guide. It’s just how Marrakech felt to me, this time.

Thanks for being here and wandering with me. More next monday, as always Halfway Packed.

Maybe because I’m the kind of person who side-eyes overtourism while living in a country that’s basically made of wonders. Trust me: when the cost of living climbs, when historic botteghe (small local shops) turn into themed boutiques, when the city center feels more like a stage set than a neighborhood… it gets complicated.

And it becomes even more obvious that we need a middle ground that works for both visitors and the people who actually live there.

Meanwhile, when I travel, I try truly to be mindful of my own impact. I gravitate toward lesser-known places (and for some mysterious reason, they often get “discovered” right after I leave… Marrakech, I’m looking at you). When I go to the classics, I try to do it in shoulder season.

I pay attention to where my money goes: local hotels, local guides, local restaurants, even local supermarkets. I read up on customs. I try to be a respectful guest.

But I’m not perfect. None of us are.

And here’s the thing: in September, The Telegraph published a love letter about how dreamy a weekend in Naples is. Fast-forward less than three months and the same paper is ringing the alarm about the city center becoming a kind of Disney set. In Italy, everyone is talking about it. And if you walk through the centro storico right now - especially around the famous nativity workshops - you’ll see what they mean. It’s packed.

And yet… I promised I’d share everything I did during my 48 hours in Naples. Some things are inevitably touristy. Others exist because my Neapolitan friends are angels walking this earth. Am I part of the problem? Probably, yes.

Should I avoid talking about Naples at all? I don’t think so.

My hope is that you’ll use this guide with intention. That it becomes a starting point rather than a finish line. Context matters because the more we understand a place, the better travelers (and guests) we become.

And it’s also worth remembering that travel is a privilege. A rewarding, perspective-shifting, once-in-a-lifetime kind of privilege.

Okay. Rant over. Let’s get into it.

WHERE I STAYED

(the part we don’t glamorize)

We stayed in a place that… I honestly don’t want to mention.
A middle-aged lady, a very large dog, and décor that can only be described as “baroque grand-aunt energy.” It wasn’t bad - just not us.

If you want to stay outside the heavy-touristed areas, you’ll quickly notice there aren’t many hotels. In Vomero, for example, you’ll mostly find B&Bs. The only place I saved for future trips is Bonito29 – Temporary Suite - clean lines, quiet charm, no surprise chandeliers shaped like angels.

DAY 1 - Letting the city come to you

first impressions, first pastries

We arrived after lunch from Milan with that mix of travel excitement and work-week tiredness buzzing under the skin.

After dropping our bags, we walked toward Via San Biagio dei Librai, letting our steps choose the direction. Naples is not a city you “plan.” It’s a city you surrender to.

Dinner was at Antica Pizzeria Vesi, a place that feels like it has lived through generations of families, arguments, first dates, reconciliations. The pizza came steaming hot, the beer was really cold. There’s no better welcome.

Dessert happened at Leopoldo. My first poppella - soft, sweet, cloud-like - and then a coda di aragosta so crunchy it silenced us mid-sentence.

Later, wandering toward Piazza Bellini for a drink, we stumbled upon a full dance crew performing in the street. Music bouncing off the walls, people clapping, students cheering - and just like that, we were swept into a moment that didn’t belong to us, but held us anyway.

Naples does that. It gives you scenes you didn’t know you needed.

DAY 2 - Following the rhythm of Spaccanapoli

the murals, the markets, the miles

We woke up thinking we’d take it slow. Naples had other plans.

Breakfast at Greco, a forno full of locals grabbing pastries. If you’re picky about coffee, Ventimetriquadri will charm you - the flat white was honestly a moment.

Then we followed Spaccanapoli, the long straight line that slices the city open like a story. On either side: clothes hanging from balconies, voices echoing, the Duomo, the peaceful Chiostro di Santa Chiara, and the promise of the Cristo Velato at Cappella San Severo (which we didn’t see because we forgot to book - learn from me).

At Via Pignasecca, the market pulled us in. Vendors shouting, fresh fish shining on ice, the smell of frying always close by.

We ate pizza fritta while looking for murals, laughed about turning this into a pastry crawl, and kept adding to the list: more poppelle, pastiera, sfogliatelle, a caprese cake…

By the time the concert arrived (remember last week’s newsletter), my watch had given up counting steps after 30,000. I didn’t blame it.

Day 3 — One last look at the sea

pasta alle vongole included

We woke up exhausted. But there was only one thing left to do: find the sea.

Naples is a city of contradictions, but the Lungomare Carocciolo ties them together.
We walked from Piazza Plebiscito to Via Partenope, the sky opening above us, Vesuvio resting in the distance.

The breeze smelled faintly of salt. Living in Milan, the sea feels like a dream. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

We chose a random restaurant overlooking the water and ordered pasta alle vongole - simple, shiny with oil, full of flavor. The kind of dish that makes you wonder why we ever complicate anything.

And yes - before getting on the train back home, I had one last poppella. A farewell kiss from Naples.

Notes (or the things I’d tell you over coffee)

If you can, give Naples more time. This is not a city you check off - it’s a place you metabolize slowly. Go find the murals. Spend time in Villa Floridiana. Explore the underground world beneath the city. Take a superstition-themed tour. Let the city surprise you.

And please, wear comfortable shoes.

About safety: use common sense. Stay where there are people. Keep your bag close.
Be aware at night. Naples isn’t dangerous - it’s alive. Stay present.

Mostly, remember this: you are a guest. And being a guest is both a privilege and a responsibility. Carry that gently.

Places I promised not to share (but… here we are)

Chalet Ciro - For every sweet craving that whispers to you before or after breakfast.

Di Matteo - One of the best pizza fritta moments you’ll find.

Il Re del Mare - Simple, unpretentious seafood that tastes like the sea. It’s tiny.

Friggitoria Vomero - Come here for a proper cuoppo, a paper cone filled with fried goodness. The edible equivalent of a warm hug in a crowded street.

Supermarket souvenir - Provola affumicata. Smoky, soft, perfect. The best goodbye gift from Naples.

See you next Monday, halfway packed.

And as always, thank you for reading, for being here, for showing up, for letting these little stories keep you company.

It means more than you know.

We ended up there because of a concert. This Italian artist I’ve been obsessed with forever announced a show in Naples after the Milan tickets disappeared in about three seconds flat. My husband suggested we make a whole weekend of it, and honestly, why not?

Bought the train tickets from Milan (easiest option, hands down) and immediately asked my Neapolitan friends for advice.

Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision ever?

Everyone had opinions. STRONG opinions. Lists within lists. “You HAVE to try this.” “Whatever you do, avoid that place.” “Forget Google Maps, just listen to me.” I created a notes folder labeled NAPOLI and crossed my fingers.

Everyone’s got feelings about Naples. The reputation precedes it. But ask anyone actually from there? They’ll tell you they’ve always known what everyone else is just now figuring out.

Something shifted in the past ten years or so. The rest of Italy - hell, the rest of the world - finally started seeing Naples the way Neapolitans always have. Messy and magnificent. Contradictory as hell.

Everything there is turned up to maximum volume. The espresso hits harder. The pastries taste better. The views knock you sideways. Everyone has an opinion and they’re not shy about sharing it.

We had barely two days. The weather was perfect. We walked something like 30,000 steps. Had way too many things on our list.

And you know what? Naples grabbed us by the shoulders and didn’t let go.

A day in Naples (the highlights version)

The full detailed guide is coming next Monday – this is just to get you started.

Where we stayed

Ended up in Vomero. It’s this residential area up on a hill, completely lived-in. Actual cafés where actual Neapolitans grab their morning coffee. Bakeries that smell insane. Tiny shops. Old guys arguing passionately about football.

Breakfast (or: the pastry that ruined all other pastries)

First morning, we went straight for fiocchi di neve.

This thing. THIS THING. I’m still thinking about it weeks later.

Soft and pillowy on the outside, stuffed with ricotta or cream, covered in powdered sugar. Tastes like a cloud had a baby. Sometimes called nuvola (that means cloud!) if you see them elsewhere, but Poppella claims they invented it.

Always a line outside. Don’t worry - moves fast. Neapolitans don’t mess around when it comes to pastries. If I could only eat one thing the whole trip, it’d be this.

Mid-Morning (walking straight into chaos)

Headed toward Spaccanapoli - this street that literally cuts the old city in half.

We walked through Quartieri Spagnoli on the way. Laundry hanging between buildings like flags. Neighbors shouting between balconies. Scooters somehow fitting through spaces that look physically impossible. Street art absolutely everywhere.

Everyone stops at the Maradona murals. He’s practically a saint there. But dig deeper. Look for the other stuff - local saints, political statements, artists who’ll never make it into travel books, stories you only get if someone explains them.

You can explore on your own, or book a street art tour if you want the full context. Both approaches work.

Lunch (by now you’re starving)

Options everywhere.

Pizza fritta from a street cart. Fried pizza. Come on.

Some simple seafood spot.

Or hop on the metro (Toledo station is legitimately one of the most beautiful metro stations on earth) and head to Lungomare Caracciolo (the “waterfront” of Napoli).

Here’s the wild part - even the tourist traps in Naples are pretty damn good. The floor for food quality is just absurdly high.

Afternoon (pick your energy level)

If you need calm: Chiostro di Santa Chiara. This cloister is covered in hand-painted tiles. Benches everywhere. Bright and surprisingly quiet. Just sit there for a while.

If you want your mind blown: Cristo Velato. One of those sculptures that makes you understand why people care about art. Absolutely stunning. Book tickets in advance or you’re not getting in.

Evening (pizza time, obviously)

Sure, you could go to Sorbillo or Da Michele - the famous spots everyone talks about. But honestly?

Let Naples show you something unexpected.

Ask a random local. Follow a crowd of Neapolitans. Walk into a place with no English menu.

We went to this neighborhood pizzeria one of my friends recommended. Loud, zero pretense, perfect crust. Everything I wanted from the experience.

If you’re not dead tired, wander toward the university area - sometimes street performers, sometimes just people being gloriously, chaotically themselves.

Grab a cheap cocktail, soak it in.

Things nobody tells you

The shoes matter. Naples is basically a vertical city disguised as a horizontal one. Wear good shoes or suffer.

Timing matters too. Early fall is ideal. Still warm during the day, cooler at night, fewer crowds clogging everything.

Nothing goes according to plan.

Our concert night was absolutely bananas…

Before the show: taxi dropped us THREE KILOMETERS from the venue…

After the show, we walked 2km to the nearest station to find completely packed trains…

The metro had closed. No taxis answering. Buses just...not showing up.

Nearly 2 AM, genuinely considering walking 3km home, when this taxi appeared, dropping off two girls. Last ride of his night. We basically begged. He took pity on us. I almost cried with relief.

My husband declared he’d never return. I fell completely in love.

What Naples actually does to you

Some cities slow you down. Make you reflective and calm.

Naples wakes you up. Sometimes rudely.

You learn to accept noise. Unpredictability. Joy that doesn’t apologize or ask permission first.

It’s not for people who need everything organized and tidy. But if you let it in, Naples gives you something back. Something loud and messy and completely honest and impossible to forget.

What’s coming Monday

(Full guide – for people who actually want the specific details)

Our complete 48-hour breakdown; everything my Neapolitan friends told me (and made me promise not to share but I’m sharing anyway)...basically the version you can actually follow step-by-step without guessing.

Thanks for letting me go on about fiocchi di neve and near-midnight after concert disasters. You reading this? Makes all of it worth sharing.

See you Monday. Still halfway packed. Always.

Athens felt right: close enough, affordable, sunny even in December. And after our first blink-and-you-miss-it 8-hour visit, I’d been wanting to come back and see it properly - to really live it this time.

You already know the story…the almost-missed flight, the hotel booked for the wrong year, and somehow everything still fell into place (and if you don’t, you can read it in my last post).

This is the follow-up: my six-day-by-day Athens guide. With everything I did, saw and where I ate.

Practical, savable, and made for travelers who care more about good food, long walks, and the feeling of really being there.

WHERE I STAYED

Olvia Suites - clean, quiet, and perfectly located in a more residential neighborhood, with cafés, transport (metro, bus, you name it!), and everything you might need nearby. We wanted local life, not chaos, and the value for money was excellent - especially for New Year’s week.

If it’s your first time in the city, take a look at Edelezi Boutique Hotel (from around €95/night): more central, beautifully designed, and with glowing reviews.

DAY 1 - ARRIVAL + FIRST IMPRESSIONS

We landed before lunch and walked straight into Athens’ organized chaos: loud, colorful, full of life. We used the metro to arrive at our hotel.
After dropping our bags, we went to Goodhood Athens, a bright café with amazing coffee, beautiful people-watching, and a warm, modern vibe. The kind of place you come back to (and we did - three times).

That afternoon, we joined a free walking tour with Athens Free Tour.
If you’ve just arrived, this is the perfect way to start: passionate locals showing you how history and modern life overlap in a city that’s never really stopped evolving. No archaeological sites (they’re not licensed guides), but plenty of stories, humor, and context.

Highlights:

• Changing of the Guard Ceremony, which I loved not just for the choreography but for the pride and history behind it.

• National Gardens, a calm and romantic escape right in the city center - created out of love, and still one of the most peaceful places to pause.

• Panathinaiko Stadium, white marble shining under the sun, and the

• Library of Hadrian, where you can almost feel the ghosts of readers’ past.
  

  The walking tour lasts about 2½ to 3 hours — wear good shoes, you’ll cover more ground (and centuries) than you think.

DAY 2 - SOFT CORNERS & MIDNIGHT FIREWORKS

We walked through Anafiotika, the little whitewashed neighborhood that feels like it belongs on a Greek island. Built in the 19th century by islanders who missed home, it’s a reminder that even in the heart of a big city, there’s space for tenderness.

Then we wandered toward the Temple of Zeus, those few standing columns still managing to hold up the weight of millennia.

If it’s your first time in Athens, go to the Acropolis and then the museum - this will probably take you all day.

By the afternoon, the city had that charged stillness that comes before a celebration. It was the last day of the year, so we decided to do something rare for us: absolutely nothing. We went back to our hotel, napped, read, and watched the light fade over our big windows.

Best decision ever.
Because after midnight, when the fireworks started, the entire city moved - but nothing else did. No taxis, no Ubers, the metro was closed, and buses were packed to the doors. So we walked.
We walked, talked, laughed, asked ourselves if it was too dangerous to do that…but it wasn’t. It felt absolutely safe, and we weren’t the only ones.

We knew this was a story we’d tell our friends for years. I wouldn’t call it smart, but it was proof that in Athens, chaos has a way of turning into charm.

DAY 3 - THE VIEW THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING

January 1st. Most of the city is still asleep. The sky is clear.

We took the funicular up to Mount Lycabettus (tickets are around €10 per person, round trip, and it runs every 30 minutes). From the top, you see everything - the Acropolis, the sprawl of white buildings rolling into the sea, the layers of history that make Athens what it is. We stayed for about an hour, taking photos and trying to take it all in. It’s the kind of view that makes you understand just how big and layered this city really is.

In the afternoon, we hopped on the Athens & Riviera Line sightseeing bus - not our usual style, but on New Year’s Day it was perfect. The sea breeze, the low winter sun, and a glimpse of what life might feel like if you lived here year-round.

DAY 4 - REST(ISH) + RESET

After breakfast, we explored the Temple of Hephaestus, the Stoa of Attalos, and the Roman Agora AKA open-air museums of stone and silence. The winter light made every column glow.

Then came one of the best parts of the trip: our hammam at Hammam Baths Athens.
Steam, marble, soft light, and 30 minutes of blissful exfoliation later, I felt like I had a new pair of legs. Exactly what you want after days of walking. The space is spotless, cozy, and the atmosphere is unpretentious.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the Monastiraki Flea Market, wandering between antique shops, records, and stalls selling…everything.

Athens rewards slowing down…you’ll always find something better when you’re not looking for it.

DAY 5 - THE SUNSET THAT STAYS WITH YOU

We booked a guided tour to Cape Sounion and the Temple of Poseidon (€43 per person). The drive along the coast is stunning - all blue and silver, olive trees bending in the wind - and you stop at a small ancient theatre before reaching the Temple of Poseidon.

And that sunset? Unreal.
Even with people around, it felt intimate — everyone watching the same sky, yet somehow, we all found quiet. The light turned gold, then pink, then gone, and for a second, the Aegean looked like it was on fire.

In other words, a front-row seat to one of the most beautiful sunsets in Greece.

DAY 6 - MORE HISTORY & LAST WALKS

Our last morning was for the National Archaeological Museum - and if you only have time for one, make it this one. Even non-history lovers will walk out amazed.

For me, it was personal: I’ve wanted to see the Poseidon statue since school, when I studied it in my history classes. Standing there in front of it… was everything I hoped it would be. Worth the trip on its own.

After the museum, it was time to wander around to pick up souvenirs for friends and family: magnets, bars of donkey milk soap (a nod to ancient Greek beauty rituals), and a few evil eye amulets — not originally Greek, but now deeply woven into the culture. Like the hammam, they’re a quiet echo of the interlaced history between Greece and Turkey.

NOTES (OR MY 2 CENTS)

Shoes: You’ll walk more than you think and Athens has no mercy on bad soles.

Season: Winter wins. Clear air, festive lights, and just the right amount of people.

Transport: The 5-day Ath.ena card is a no-brainer. Uber works great too.

Skip: Rooftop bars and overhyped gyro spots - better views and meals happen when you least expect them.

What I Packed: Comfortable shoes (yes, even for New Year’s Eve - they were cute but without heels), a scarf for windy spots like Cape Sounion, and a good puffer jacket. I could have gotten away with a coat - it’s rarely freezing, and we had no rain at all.

WHERE I ATE AND DRANK

Goodhood Athens - Bright, friendly, modern. Great for breakfast, brunch or lunch and dangerously good coffee. We came back three times.

Bandiera - Cozy restaurant in the center serving quality grilled meat. We went back after our last trip to Athens, and it was still as good.

Kalimeres - Found it by accident when I was looking for a place to have a drink before dinner. Lively, colorful, good cocktails. But I can’t speak for the food.

The Frogs Bar - We discovered it years ago during that famous summer layover and returned this time in winter. Young, cool, and homey.

Wine O’Clock - Total serendipity. We wandered in before dinner and I had one of the best orange wines of my life. Small, familiar, full of locals. Ask for whatever’s open - they always have something special by the glass.

Mani Mani - Sophisticated without being pretentious. Go for dinner, book ahead, and take your time.

MonkFish Athens - Our best dinner of the trip. Fresh fish, generous portions, warm staff, no tourists. Feels like a secret you almost don’t want to share.

Sfika - Neighborhood barbecue spot. Nothing fancy, just good food and generous portions. The moussaka and grilled souvlaki were excellent. And the prices are even better.

Hoocut - A famous pita place. Quick, reliable, and exactly what you need between walks.

Souvlaki Kostas — No frills, no shortcuts, just honest and delicious souvlaki. A classic that is popular for a reason. Perfect for a quick lunch, go early.

PLACES I’D LOVE TO TRY NEXT TIME

Baba Au Rum - Consistently ranked among the world’s best bars, known for inventive cocktails.

Atlantikos - Rustic fish tavern tucked into the alleys near Monastiraki; I’ve heard it captures what old Athens tastes like.

Nolan - A mix of Greek and international influences. The vibe? For me, it looks like the perfect spot for slow evenings and long conversations.

Athens isn’t perfect and it doesn’t even try to be. It’s layered and loud, chaotic and kind. Things go wrong, and then they somehow don’t.

The city stumbles, fixes itself, and moves on…a little like all of us, really.

If you end up at any of these spots, tag me - I want to see your version of the city.

See you, as always, halfway packed.

Cut to a few hours later.

He’s at the hotel desk looking confused. Turns out he booked the room for 2026. We landed in 2024. Same hotel, same dates, wrong year entirely. I don’t even know how you do that.

Obviously, they’re fully booked.

But here’s the thing about Athens: things go wrong and then... it just doesn’t? The woman at reception did some typing, made us talk with her boss, and boom. One room. Available for our whole trip.

I swear this city runs on some kind of magic where chaos just resolves itself.

A different kind of neighborhood

This time we stayed somewhere more local, where life felt less performed. Our hotel was near Espressaki, a café that turned into a bar in the evening, like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be when it grew up. Mornings smelled of espresso; by night, glasses clinked over low music and laughter that spilled into the street.

We usually stopped by another coffee shop where we’d sit there with genuinely incredible coffee, watching real athenians do their thing. Students stressed about exams. People working on laptops.

Slowing down

The last time we were here, we had an eight-hour layover. Just enough time to fall in love and promise we’d come back. This time, we had five full days and enough plans to just let Athens happen at its own pace.

There’s something quietly comforting about a city that doesn’t need to be perfect. The cracked sidewalks, the honking chaos, the layers of history that still breathe. It’s all alive and unapologetic.

Here’s what I’d do

Coffee first. Find some tiny place where locals actually go. I was mainly on flat white the entire trip. Zero regrets.

Then just walk. I know those free walking tours sound touristy but they’re actually great for getting a feel of the place and learning stuff. Two rules: tip your guide properly, and ask them where THEY eat (you will be surprised).

If tours aren’t your thing, just go see the Ancient Agora or Temple of Hephaestus. Yeah yeah, tourists go there. Because they’re amazing. Get over yourself.

Lunch is easy if you’re central. We really enjoyed the Pita from Hoocut, a place with a street food allure dressed in high-end food. But really friendly too. There’s also Souvlaki Costas, which usually has an insane line. My husband said it was overrated. I’ll let you decide.

For the afternoon, the National Archaeological Museum is ridiculous if you’re into Ancient History. I fully nerded out over the Poseidon statue. Or walk through Anafiotika, which is basically a chunk of a Greek island that got dropped under the Acropolis. It’s all over Instagram but the story’s actually sweet: homesick island workers built it to remind them of home. Still really charming even with the tourists.

Dinner depends on your mood.

One night we went fancy at ManiMani: white tablecloths, wine that cost more than it should but was completely worth it. It was New Year’s Eve after all. I also had this orange wine at a tiny bar nearby that I’m still thinking about. I’ll share the details in Friday’s edition, where I usually unpack the places behind the stories.

Other nights we just went to regular tavernas. One night we found a fish place that felt like nobody knew about it except locals. No crowd, just really good grilled fish and people looking vaguely surprised we were there. One of the best dishes of the entire trip.

The sunset thing

I’m not going to recommend rooftop bars. That’s not really my speed, especially after we went to Cape Sounion.

Yeah, it’s kind of far. Yeah, other tourists go. But somehow it still felt intimate? Like everyone just got quiet when the sun hit that perfect angle behind the temple. If you can spare the time, go.

Things you only learn once you’re there

Cooler is better

I’ve done Athens in summer and winter. Winter’s way better. Not cold, just cool. Clear skies. And you’re not actively melting into ancient marble.

Your shoes will define you

Bring your absolute most comfortable shoes. You will walk an absurd amount. My phone’s step counter was personally attacking me by day three.

Pre-Booked Self-Care

I’d actually booked the hammam back in Italy, fully aware of my tragic habit of walking way more than planned. I always want to see everything, do everything…and then act surprised when my legs stop cooperating entirely. So when the day finally came, it felt well-earned. Warm marble, soft light, and the kind of quiet that makes your whole body exhale.

The tradition dates back to the Ottoman period, when the Turks built bathhouses across Greece, blending their own rituals with much older Roman and Byzantine ones. Many of these places survived, evolving into the modern hammams you still find today. Ours was newer but full of charm — calm, welcoming, and exactly what we needed after covering what felt like half the city on foot. You are welcome.

How to (mostly) get around

Getting around is super easy: metro, buses, Uber all work. Most rides are under ten euros if you stay central, and the metro is really efficient.

From the airport, we just bought a single metro ticket, then picked up the 5-day Ath.ena ticket, which gives you unlimited rides on the metro and buses. Just swipe and go.

And walk when you can. The city’s chaotic, sure, but that’s how you stumble into the best bakeries and tiny antique shops.

Except on New Year’s Eve, when we had to walk home from Syntagma Plaza at like 1 a.m. because there were no taxis, no Ubers, the metro was closed, and the buses were so packed people were hanging off the sides. Just us and the cold and our very tired feet.

Sounds sketchy, right? It wasn’t. I felt completely safe. That’s Athens, though. Slightly chaotic but somehow it takes care of you. Or maybe I’m just a hardcore optimist. Probably both.

Which kind of sums up Athens, really — a little messy, sometimes unpredictable, but it always figures itself out in the end.

What Stuck With Me

Athens doesn’t try to impress you. It’s messy and loud and the traffic makes no sense and the sidewalks are all broken. And it just... works anyway.

Made me think about how things don’t need to be perfect to be good. The best trips are usually the ones where something goes wrong and you just roll with it.

Thanks for reading me ramble about ancient stuff and travel disasters. If you’ve had a trip that went completely sideways and ended up being perfect, I want to hear about it.

See you Monday.

Still halfway packed. Always.

P.S. In the next Monday edition is where I spill everything: our full day-by-day Athens itinerary, the café that became our morning ritual, the wine bar I can’t stop thinking about, and the fish place I almost didn’t want to share. It’s the unpolished, practical side of this trip…the one that turns the story into something you can actually steal for your own.

I’m currently overthinking every word I type (because of course I am), but hey—first posts are like that. So this is me, just ripping off the band-aid.

I’m Andreia. I travel a lot, live in Milan (Italy), and yes, I have a full-time corporate job that I actually like… most days (you get it.)

What’s this newsletter about?

Mostly travel. The places I go. The food I eat. The things I notice. The people I meet. And maybe—just maybe—it’ll make you want to pack a bag too.

But before you commit, let’s see if we could be friends.

Here are a few things about me:

1 - Born in Portugal. Raised in Mozambique. Living in Italy. Basically, a walking cultural mixtape.

2 - I’ll happily visit a touristy spot once… but I’m forever hunting down the unusual, charming, hidden stuff no one talks about.

3 - I don’t buy outfits “just for travel.” I shop my closet—unless we’re talking about something hyper specific, like anti-leech socks in Borneo (true story).

4 - Love coffee. But I usually end up drinking matcha or green tea instead. Don’t ask.

5 - Hotel breakfasts? My love language.

6 - I’m a mindful traveler. If animals are involved, I do my research. If I can support a local business, I will. I don’t always get it right—but I try.

7 - I’m an avid reader. I’m usually juggling two books at once, so if one starts to drag, I just switch to the other. All while conveniently ignoring my to-do list…

8 - I like shoes. But I LOVE bags. Bags are my weakness. Bags are my personality.

9 - I’ll climb the mountain, jump in the water, hike the jungle… but I will complain first.

10 - My husband wants a house in the mountains. I want to move to Kuala Lumpur (let’s see who wins).

What can you expect from me every Monday?
Stories. Real ones. From the road, the beach, the jungle, the plane seat that doesn’t recline.

I’ll share:

• Travel diaries from places you’ve never heard of.

• Stories and hidden gems in places you have heard of.

• My takes on trends, travel hacks, and what’s actually worth your time.

• Curated things to read, watch, or save — told with taste, curiosity, and zero pressure to do or see it all.

If you’ve made it this far, I think we’re going to get along just fine.

So welcome.
See you every Monday—with my bags usually halfway packed.

Andreia