Portofino, before everyone arrived
August 20266 min read
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An August afternoon in the piazzetta, when there were still few boats and time was measured in coffees.
There was a time when a holiday was a ritual. You left in June, came back in September — with a few well-chosen things and no hurry to tell anyone about it. There were few photographs, fewer telegrams still.
It isn't nostalgia: it's a method. Choose less, choose better, then let time do the rest. The coast teaches exactly this, to anyone willing to listen.
"There's no hurry. We're on holiday."
The rest of this note is kept in the notebook at home. Club members will receive the following pages by post, as was once the custom.
