If I take a look at the places I hit in November, I’m impressed by the amount of travel I can take on my shoulders, without really experiencing none of those cities.
My recipe for discovery is a mix of running, restaurants and getting lost walking around. But this recipe needs time to be executed, and it’s not always possible.
And I’m now spending so few time in Milan, that I’m becoming a stranger to my own city.
I still enjoy the magics of flying. That moment where my body knows the wheels are about to go up. The clouds. The tip of the mountains that are now full of snow, below me.
December won’t be very different. Then I’ll rest. Maybe.
See you around.