A Love Letter to Istria

There are places that you visit, and there are places that meet you somewhere within.

Istria is the latter.

This is not a catalogue. It is not here to instruct you what to see, but to invite you to notice—to listen. To pause before a dry-stone wall. To follow a scent you can’t name in an olive grove. To ask a question you didn’t know was waiting inside you until a forgotten chapel answered it.

Everything here was written with intention, collected like herbs in the early morning. Some stories are long and quiet. Others are brief, but sharp like sea salt on skin. You will meet places, people, rituals—but not as a tourist. As a guest. As someone who knows that beauty without context is decoration, and that time is not measured in hours, but in how long something stays with you.

This is a guide not for where to go, but for how to arrive.

Welcome to Istria. Not as you expected it. Exactly as you needed it.

With amore, Istramore