Happy Hoteling turns three this week! It feels like a decade and two weeks, at once. I’m so grateful. SO GRATEFUL! I used to do sales about once a quarter, but I’ve since upped my business strategy and have yet to do one this year. I will always do one for Happy Hoteling’s birthday, but going forward it will the only one of the year.
Founding Memberships are now set to $200/year, which gives you access to the hotel bible, the Happy Hoteling Around the World Google Map. Yearly paid subscriptions are 25% off. Both will expire until next year, next Sunday, July 5, 2026.
An essay on why I haven’t been to Capri since moving to Italy. It’s maybe my favorite thing I’ve ever written, because it’s the most true. I’m terrified to publish, but I also know I need to. Yes, I know I just said I was now a private person – for some reason, this is far less invasive than sharing my day-to-day life. If you have a hard time reading about elderly parents (dads, in particular), please do skip. And promise me you will not, under any circumstances, pity me?! Great, thank you.
14 very, very good additions to the Italy hotel list. Not a single meh! One of the best batches in a very long time, I’d say.
Campania – Another new opening in Capri, one that fills true white space. A new opening in Sorrento that does just the same. An incredible historic property in Cilento. A simple hotel in Nerano. The only place that makes my cut in Vietri-sul-Mare.
Puglia – A hotel with some of the most jaw-dropping rooms in the region, and perhaps the country.
Emilia-Romagna – A Renaissance-era country house outside Bologna, with incredible grounds and some of the most charming painted rooms.
Sardinia – A hotel in a town, on the water, white-washed.
Sicily – A hotel with one of the best beaches, in Siracusa.
Tuscany – A hideaway in Maremma I’ve been gatekeeping for years and now am sharing because it’s the type of place that the world could use more of right now. An old world hotel in Florence with an outdoor pool. A countryside property that has fun with color. Another countryside property that ticks all the boxes for hidden gem fodder, with a natural pool, to boot. And, lastly, a hotel outside Lucca with a room in a former chapel.
Yes, the heatwave is really that bad. It has been the longest stretch of red alert (highest heat, biggest danger) on record, since Florence started tracking temperature (a long time ago). I love having the top apartment, as you know, I love the light, and I really love the skylight. But even with AC, it has been extremely hard to keep the space cool. I feel for the majority of others in my neighborhood who do not have AC whatsoever. I feel for so many, in so many countries, because I know firsthand that extreme heat is not just a nuisance. On Wednesday, it was the patron saint day of Florence, San Giovanni, my first in the city. It was the final game of the calcio storico – the ancient game that I genuinely do not understand. The final this year was between my neighborhood, Santa Croce, the azzuri, and Santa Maria Novella, the rossi. WE WON! It was scorching hot but I had to participate, especially because my neighborhood is where people actually live, so it was oh so alive. I had dinner outdoors, almost fainted, but then was saved by this TikTok with a woman who shares an acupressure point for relieving heat in your body, placebo or not.
I am just so enamored with shells, and art using them in entirety. This grotto in London, and this home below have taken the prize this week.
There are a lot of transportation strikes across Italy this July, do note! And in Florence, there will be a lot of extra delays due to planned expansion.
Torino aka Turin is such a great city, especially for design. This cafe has me wanting to take the train there stat!
Le Lappe, a hotel in Chianti, just reopened after an off-season renovation and I love how they’ve shared the craftsmanship that has gone into it.
I finished a handful of books in the last few weeks. When You Loved Me by Beatriz Williams is a tale of a mother and daughter who move from Paris back to their family home on a small New England island. There’s a bit of treasure hunting and a bit of romance and a bit of historical fiction and all in all, I loved it – 4.25/5 stars. Too Close to Home by Seraphina Nova Glass is a small town thriller, one of my favorite mindless genres. I was completely hooked for the first half, and while the ending was something I saw coming, I still enjoyed the plot (the writing is not great). 4/5. Alex Finlay is typically one of my favorite thriller authors, but his latest, The Anniversary, is one you can skip. The Fine Art of Lying by Alexandra Andrews had everything I thought would make it best-of-the-year fodder: an art heist, the art world of Manhattan, a bit of infidelity, but I found it, more than anything, boring. The end was the best part, but I would not call it great.
I’ve been eyeing colorful Murano jewelry for summer. These ear cuffs and these bracelets in particular. Low brow, high fun.
This vintage summer weight Moschino jacket! The buttons!
From the H&M sale – $7 jelly flip flops and a good purple summer dress.
These pants if you enjoy dressing like an elderly Italian man.
From the Net-a-Porter sale – a supremely good Dries skirt that you can wear to the pool or at night but just wear it a lot, and the striped Versace jeans (still stupid expensive) I’ve been waiting to go on sale but now they’re not left in my size.
HAPPY SUNDAY, HAPPY HOTELING, HAPPY SUMMER!
Before I knew how to read, I was already dreading the day my dad would die. I learned how to read very early.
To be clear, NO my dad has not died – he will turn 90 in August, and he insists he’s doing very well, really darling.
My dad was not the oldest in my elementary school class, but I always felt like I had the oldest dad of anyone I knew. Mostly, it’s because of the good stuff – he was around, really and truly present and did all the mundane stuff like carpool and serving hot lunch with enthusiasm. I always felt like he gave it 100% because he knew he would exit this world sooner than I would be ready.
Somehow, other dads I know and loved left first. It’s a miracle is what I know I should feel, and what I do feel, sort of.
But the reality, or my reality, is that it’s really hard to feel that miracle when you’ve been prematurely grieving since before you could read. I remember talking about this in therapy just after I did learn how to read. And yet, here I am, almost 35, still feeling the same way I did as a tiny child that still fit in Baby Gap.
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