Avvisi is Italian for newsletters, updates or alerts. Before Substack, Twitter¹ and lists of the top 10 AI tools to replace anything, ruling families like the Medici relied on avvisi to do their diplomacy and decide who to wage war on or not. These informational proto-beasts evolved into the monster that sensible people try to avoid in today's world: news.

After quitting my 7-year stint at a start-up this year, I found the gold of the digital age: time. So much time that I felt like a Rothschild. I squandered my fortune on listening to Dan Carlin narrate the fall of the Roman Republic for 10 hours. I indulged in the history of the Medici family. I splurged on Fellini’s movies. I also had my first love affair with writing fiction by making a book about a family’s legacy. I came out of that experience asking myself “What is worth preserving?”. Then, in an old avviso, I found this amazing insult written by the one of Popes: “son of iniquity”. That was it. With the last few pennies in the bank before worrying about bills, I decided to walk an old pilgrimage route and again, ask: “What is worth preserving?”. Such affronts surely are.

I’m setting out to find stories worth preserving. My preference is to ferment through fiction, meaning: start with the facts and then sprinkle a bit of imagination. On old roads, I usually feel the history in the air. There are traces of myths and legends, reminders of what was and what could have been, hints at fate’s whims, stories of lives lived and remnants of crushed and fulfilled ambitions. It’s archeology without the digging. Maybe, reverse gravedigging. My therapist says I’m fine.

Between 1450 and 1650, Europe developed an extensive network to deliver important news between major cities. Couriers, like me, faced storms, plague, bandits and the temptation of getting drunk at outposts. Even then, there was unreliable information and epidemics. Fumigating the mail in case it contained a disease was not irrational. Nor was shooting the messenger². These were simpler times.

So, here we are. I am no expert on Italian matters of any kind: artistic, cultural, historical. I, like you, am going on an adventure. The road will teach me and, hopefully, cure my ignorance. I will be your courier for avvisi that won’t fire up your amygdala. I would like them to accompany your morning coffee and bring you to smile, smirk and chuckle. In that exact order.

My rules

• No music, podcasts, news or social media.
• I will delete this mailing list at the end³. You can then decide to follow my little corner of the Internet if you so desire.
• My Italian is good enough to understand and ask follow-up questions. I’ll always try to get uncomfortable and speak it. It worked before.
• Every evening, I will pick a topic for the next day. Think about it. Let it simmer. Snap some shots of the landscape and the people. Then write about it.

Why this? Why now?

In 2025, I wrote and designed a book on a family’s history. I started from facts and the story veered into historical fiction. The extra poetic license gave me permission to explore characters and the human moments that make us smile, laugh, cry and reflect. So, I asked myself, how do I do more of it? Such moments make up our daily lives. Annie Dillard wrote: How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. That’s why I do it. To curate moments, stack them together into a day, learn from them and, ultimately, live a better life? Better than what? Who knows, I’m done comparing.

Inspired by Craig Mod’s pop-up newsletters and walks, I wanted to exercise the creative muscle and find new material. New characters and stories to explore. I booked tickets on a whim. Avanti!

What is there to find?

On route, we may encounter bandits, travelling circus workers, members of the Medici family and Fellini’s characters. To immerse myself for this trip, I’ve delved into the history, mined the Medici Digital Database for original avvisi, uncovered Etruscan mythology, wondered at Roman engineering, watched and re-watched Fellini & Antonioni movies, researched Italian traditions of circus and travelling entertainment, and, of course, listened to Pino D’angio. Ma quale idea.

Walking every day should simmer all of that research into daily dispatches as a combination of circus, amusement, cruelty, the afterlife, looking back at the past, theatre, Roman times, engineering, geopolitics, freaks, monasteries & monks, medieval coins, patronage, Lorenzo de’ Medici. Maybe more.

See you on August 31^st.