Dear Asma,

Have I ever told you I’m all about impulsive decisions? That’s actually how I ended up in Dubai. Sure, it took several rounds of interviews, but I vividly remember the moment the offer came through—I signed it instantly, from a spa retreat in Ibiza. And who even goes to a spa retreat in Ibiza? Well, I did.

But forgive my digressions (and my apologies in advance, as I know there will be more). I’m actually writing to tell you all about my impulsive trip to Venice.

As I write this, there’s a chicken standing in front of me, in the lush garden of the San Clemente Palace hotel—on a small, beautiful private island in Venice—staring me down. Yes, a chicken and I, eye to eye, while I eat carbonara and write to you. They have plenty here (chickens and eyes). They’re full of character, and I often feel like I’ve intruded on their island. Still, reconnecting with nature feels good. It reminds me of home. We had many animals in Montenegro growing up, though never chickens. Our cousins next door had some, and I still remember the taste of their eggs: shells white as snow, yolks orange like the setting sun. The egg in this carbonara is taking me right back to childhood.

Last week, I realised I needed a break. You know how much I adore Dubai, we’ve talked about it often. Yet sometimes one just needs to retreat to their roots. They’re what keeps us warm. We should never forget where we came from or why we started what we’re doing in the first place. What brought us here, along with what we do now, will eventually take us somewhere else, if we’re lucky and passionate enough. That’s how I ended up in Venice.

One of Dubai’s greatest perks, for me, is its proximity to everything I love. So convenient. So accessible. I opened the Emirates website, typed in “Italy,” craving a little “dolce far niente” after months of having “dolce far tutto”. Venice. Private island. Peace. A total disconnect. It was an immediate “yes” from me!

Sometimes I embrace clichés. Sometimes I run from them as fast as my legs (or my mind) can take me. Do you remember when Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada said, “Florals for spring? Groundbreaking”? I told myself, “Ibiza in June? Groundbreaking…” and booked my comfy flight to Venice instead.

Sonia, the wonderfully friendly concierge, organised everything: car to the port, then speedboat to the hotel. The moment I stepped onto the boat, I felt like I’d crossed into another dimension. High on waves and sea breeze, my mind opened to new horizons, and not just the ones ahead, but the ones within. I truly believe in the healing power of water. Pour your worries into the sea, and share them with the world. Once they’re not just yours anymore, everything becomes lighter and bearable again. My own worries are now floating through the canals of Venice, and I feel as free as a child. Mission accomplished!

San Clemente used to be a psychiatric hospital, strangely enough. It’s odd to think that a place that once held people’s darkest days now offers others some of their brightest. This island hums with energy, and not chaotic, as one might expect, but peaceful and grounding. Here, you’ll find calm, serenity… and lots of pasta! My hands are sore from twirling homemade spaghetti crafted by a truly gifted local chef. I once tasted Elizabeth Taylor’s favourite spaghetti pomodoro at Belmond Hotel Splendido in Portofino—they’ve kept it on the menu ever since, as apparently she’d always order the same. But the version here? Even better! Please promise you’ll try it when you visit, and tell me what you think. For me, it was poetry on a plate: delicate strands of pasta, a splash of parmigiano, cherry tomatoes from their garden, and a breath of basil. Chef’s kiss!

The heart of Venice is just a short boat ride away. I boarded the hotel’s sleek speedboat and spent the day wandering its alleys, pretending I was a local. I walked confidently through the narrowest passages in the world, acting like I knew exactly where I was going. That’s when it hit me – so much in life is about intention. Mine was to roam and make impulsive decisions, one after another: a gondola ride, pistachio gelato, lasagna. And yes – clichés! I embraced them fully, and I loved it. Call me shallow, but it brought me joy.

My life has always had a soundtrack. I know “how dramatic”, one might say. But I can’t function without music, even when it seems out of place. I thought L’appuntamento by Ornella Vanoni would be my Venice music background, but surprisingly, it was Birdy’s Quietly Yours:

“There’s the sweetest
Spring at my door
Can you feel it?
Just the same as before
Many years have gone by
But I knew you’d come.
Quietly keeping
This hope in my heart
Prayed the night bring
Back what I lost…
I’ve always been yours
Only yours
Quietly yours.”

It really is all about the words and the way we treat them, Asma. Venice turned out to be quietly mine. I hope you’ll love it just as much as I did.

Truly yours,
Milo