Category: Regional Styles

I remember standing in a narrow alleyway in the Sassi during a particularly humid July, watching a tour group cluster around a crumbling archway. They were all staring at the “picturesque” view, snapping the same filtered photos of the cave…

I was standing in a dusty courtyard outside of Ostuni last July, my knees aching from kneeling beside a crumbling limestone plinth, when I realized how much we get wrong about these structures. Tourists and real estate developers love to…

I was kneeling in the dust of a crumbling boundary wall in the hills outside Syracuse last July, my fingers tracing the jagged edge of a limestone block that refused to sit flush. Most people look at a pile of…

I was kneeling in the dust of a courtyard in Alberobello last July, my knees aching and my hands stained with limestone grit, when I realized how much the travel brochures lie to you. Most people visit puglia and the…

I remember standing on a crumbling terrace in Santo Stefano di Sessanio last October, my knees aching from the climb, staring at a wall that refused to make sense. Most travel guides will tell you that the beauty of abruzzo…

I was crouched in the dirt outside a crumbling farmhouse near Velletri last autumn, my knees aching against the damp earth, when I realized most people look at the Roman countryside and casali through a lens of pure, romanticized fiction….

I was standing in a damp basement in Turin last November, my flashlight catching the jagged edge of a limestone block, when I realized how much we get wrong about the piedmont and baroque legacy. Most guidebooks will drone on…

I remember sitting on a crumbling limestone ledge near Vernazza, my knees stained with dust, watching a local farmer inspect a hairline fracture in a retaining wall. While the tourists were busy snapping wide-angle selfies of the colorful villages, I…

I was standing in a narrow carruggio in Camogli last Tuesday, squinting against the salt spray, when I saw it: a “restored” villa where the owner had replaced traditional lime-based pointing with a modern, grey cement grout. It was an…

I was standing under the shadow of the Via Santo Stefano arches last Tuesday, watching a tourist struggle to photograph a “scenic view” while completely ignoring the way the terracotta bricks were actually laid. It’s the same old story: people…