Hi, I’m Gianluca.
I studied cultural anthropology, and I’ve always been fascinated by the different ways people live, move, and experience a place.
Rome is not only my city – it’s the environment I love observing, understanding, and sharing through these small stories.
Together with my wife Connie, we host travellers in our small hotel near the Vatican, where we enjoy meeting people from all over the world and exchanging perspectives – just as I do here in the blog.
If you ever feel like saying hello while exploring Rome, you’ll find us on our terrace as well, where every morning we serve breakfast with a view.
Gianluca
There are places that everyone feels they already know before visiting.
The Amalfi Coast is one of them.
You’ve seen it in films, postcards, travel magazines. You expect beauty — and you get it. But there is a subtle risk: that what you see matches too closely what you had already imagined.
And then, sometimes, something shifts.
That shift, for me, happened the moment the drone lifted off.
From the road, the Amalfi Coast is a sequence: curves, viewpoints, glimpses between trees, terraces, sudden openings over the sea. Beautiful, but fragmented. Your eye is always negotiating space.
From above, everything recomposes.
The coastline reveals its true structure — not just a scenic road, but a vertical world. Villages that seem gently resting from afar suddenly appear suspended. Roads that felt dramatic become thin threads. The relationship between land and sea becomes clearer, almost architectural.
It is not just more beautiful. It is more understandable.
Flying over places like Positano or the stretch between Praiano and Amalfi, what strikes you is not only the color palette — the pastels, the deep blue, the stone — but the geometry. The rhythm of terraces. The improbable balance between human presence and landscape.
There is also something else.
Silence.
Even in a place that, at ground level, can be crowded and intense, the aerial perspective restores a kind of calm. The movement of boats becomes slow. The noise disappears. The coast breathes again.
Of course, flying a drone here is not something you improvise. There are restrictions, areas to respect, timing to choose carefully. Early morning helps — not just for the light, which softens everything, but for the feeling of having the landscape almost to yourself.
And this is perhaps the most surprising part.
The Amalfi Coast is one of the most visited places in Italy. Yet, with the right approach, it can still feel intimate.
That’s something I’ve been thinking about while developing Quodlibet Journeys.
Not just where to go — that’s often obvious.
But how to look.
Because even the most “famous” destinations can still offer something unexpected, if you change perspective — sometimes literally.
The drone, in this case, is not just a tool.
It becomes a way to step back, to read the landscape differently, and to bring home not just images, but a deeper sense of the place.
And maybe that is what travel should still be about.
