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Benthall Slow Travel's avatar

What a story — and what a setting to attach it to. Peralta sounds like the kind of place that imprints itself on a family whether it means to or not. The scar, the lunch break, the bewildered Italian nonni brigade… it’s unforgettable.

And Fiore — good grief. A person who could sculpt a place into existence and then haunt it in the best possible way. I felt like I was right there with the jasmine, the stone, the switchbacks that should come with a warning label.

Beautifully told and illustrated. This one lingers.

💛 Kelly

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Aesthetic Nomads's avatar

Thanks, Kelly. Fiore is the real star indeed. We met her in 2004, a couple of months before she passed away. As a very outspoken intersex person, she wore the title of the story with pride. I’ve been around strong women all my life, but she was of another kind; a totally free spirit that mingled creativity with dedication, bohemia with aristocratic class, a male attitude with true tenderness.

Peralta was bought by a French family that keeps it intact. Worth a stay if you are in the area.

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Benthall Slow Travel's avatar

She sounds extraordinary — thank you for sharing that, truly. I can only imagine what it must’ve been like to meet someone with that kind of presence and freedom. Those rare spirits who live entirely as themselves leave a mark that never fades.

And I love hearing that Peralta is still being cared for and kept intact. We’ll absolutely add it to our list — places shaped by people like Fiore have a different kind of soul.

💛 Kelly

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Ana's avatar

I love the layouts of your pictures (and your pictures of course 😍)

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Aesthetic Nomads's avatar

Thanks Ana. We very much appreciate your comment. The credit goes entirely to Reinhilde. I'm just the scribbler...

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Ana's avatar

The scribbles are great too 😉

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