No itinerary marching you past forty things you'll forget by lunch.
We move slowly, on purpose. We wander, we eat well, we sit with the big questions when they show up and we let them go when they don't. Some of it is quiet. A lot of it is laughing until someone snorts. It's travel with enough room left in it for you to actually be there.
Tuscany. May 2027.
A small villa, a long table, twelve women, and a stretch of days with nowhere to be. We'll wander the hill towns, eat food made by people who have made it their whole lives, and remember what it feels like to have time. Details go to the list first, and the seats are few.
Save my seat →It's probably never going to be perfectly convenient.
The kids, the work, the dog, the thing. I get it, and I also think the trip is part of how you find your way back to yourself, not the reward you collect once everything's handled. Come as you are, mid-figuring-it-out. That's the whole point.
Get on the list.
You'll hear about Tuscany, and everything after it, before anyone else.