Long Read

i spent a week in lecce, italy and all i got was this lousy tan (and a blistering sunburn)

@Mila Sanders3/7/2026blog

sunburned and sinew-drained from hauling my laptop to another café, i collapsed onto a stool in piazza del duomo. the cobblestones were slick with espresso stains and history. 20.06°C today, feels a bit like my ex’s glare if that’s a thing. ordered a michelangelo (the drink, not the dude-though seriously, his name is everywhere here), and it hit different. bitter, sweet, like the square’s reputation: beautiful but complicated.

someone told me the Wi-Fi at this café is slower than a donkey’s trot, but the old man at the counter nodded knowingly and said “it’s fine if you don’t care about emails”. fair. i’m here for the ambiance, not the cloud.



found a spot on Via Mincipora where the street artist-a kid with a skateboard under one arm and pastels in the other-doodled me a lizard chasing a Vespa. “you look like someone who’s seen too much,” he said. “relax,” i said, because honestly, i hadn’t slept in three days.

if you need to escape this town, the beaches of Otranto are a two-hour drive. heard a local warn me not to trust the seafood at "La Peschiera," though Yelp says it’s a hidden gem. liars. also, someone said the beach at Punta del Sole is just a scam to sell overpriced umbrellas. take that from who you want.

not sure why i’m still writing this. maybe the temp at night drops to 18°C and i’ll hypothermia-text you later? or maybe i’ll just fall asleep at my desk, laptop on my knees, coffee cold and Wi-Fi weaker than my Italian grammar.

p/s: drank the entire pot of that michelangelo. maybe go back. no, scratch that-asked the bartender for the recipe. will try again tomorrow. not that i have time. or energy. or a future.


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About the author: Mila Sanders

Believes that every problem has a solution (or at least a workaround).

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