The Simulation
Brought Him Here.

I want to tell you about a stranger who is no longer a stranger.

· · ·

I was stranded in Prague, not knowing where to go next, when I saw it — a flight from Vienna to Salerno for twenty euros. Why the hell not. I followed my intuition, the way I usually do, and once again it turned out to be right. From Salerno I made my way down to Palinuro, and eventually, home to Salento.

But first, I had to get to Vienna.

Bus, train, I wasn't sure. I checked an app called BlaBlaCar — barely used, but still on my phone from some earlier trip. And there he was: someone driving to Vienna, at exactly the right time, willing to drop me straight at the airport. Perfect. I had no idea just how perfect it was about to become.

Moritz, along the Salento coast

His name is Moritz. A few years older than me, driving one of those old-school BMWs he clearly loves. We got along right away, but the real connection opened up once we started talking about consciousness — about the possibility that we're living in a simulation. I'm a philosophical person. I don't shut people out for believing something different than I do. I love these conversations, the ones where you're genuinely curious about someone else's inner world.

It was a Saturday. At one point it wasn't even certain we'd make the airport in time — the "simulation," we joked, had closed the road ahead of us, and we had to find our own way around. We laughed about that later.

Moritz told me he was on his way to one of the biggest rock festivals in Europe, with his grandfather. I was tempted to change my plans and go with him. But something in me said Salerno first. So we kept talking instead, and somewhere in that drive, he felt safe enough to share pieces of his life with me. I told him some of mine too — my years as a therapist in psychiatry, and now, this space I've built in Italy.

He was intrigued. I told him about Salento, about how peaceful life is here, how everything just feels better. He wasn't sure he believed me.

I'm writing this on August 5th — the day I dropped Moritz off at Brindisi airport. Because he came. He actually came to see it for himself. And before he left, he told me I was right.

· · ·

By the time we reached Vienna, the connection was good enough that I gave him my card. We swapped numbers, stayed in touch, and I told him he was welcome to come experience this place — and the culture around it — for himself. Not long after, he booked a flight.

One day I was swimming with a friend at Marina di Novaglie. We got to talking about the coming full Moon — it had been a while since I'd gathered people at Il Sentiero. So I did the obvious thing: I picked the day Moritz was arriving, Wednesday July 29th, and decided to give him the warmest possible welcome to Salento.

I love building these evenings. Bringing people together. Making space for real connection and a bit of collective joy. So I sent the invitation, told Moritz what was coming, and prepared the space.

Everyone brought something. Moritz arrived and was folded straight into the warmth of twenty-five people who'd come to be together under the full Moon. We drank wine, ate, built a fire, grilled, danced. On paper it might look like any other evening. But something is different when a space is opened with the clear intention of conscious connection.

Some of the people already knew each other. Others ran into old friends they hadn't seen in years. Plenty of strangers became something else by the end of the night. We're all just people trying to build a better world — and on nights like that, it shows.

· · ·

Over the days that followed, Moritz explored on his own, and sometimes we went out together. When I can, I love showing people the real, authentic side of Puglia — not the postcard version. Thanks to a dear friend and his boat, we went out from Santa Maria di Leuca to find Grotta del Laghetto, a cave you can really only reach from the sea.

Approaching Grotta del Laghetto, by boat from Santa Maria di Leuca

That's the balance I try to hold — genuine enjoyment, laced with a hinge of spiritual growth. Looking at the nature of Salento with a sense of magic, staying open to it, while staying grounded and present. That's the key, for me.

Me, Valentina — my dear friend and a naturopath — and Moritz, after a day on the boat from Santa Maria di Leuca

· · ·

Today I brought Moritz to the airport. He told me he needs time to process everything he experienced here — but that it was wonderful. He thanked me more times than I could count. He arrived carrying tension, he said, and he's leaving relaxed. That's the Salento and Il Sentiero magic, combined, I told him.

At the airport, he said: now we're even. I brought you to the airport that day — now you've brought me to mine.

Before he left, he wrote something in the Il Sentiero guestbook.

Thank you, Moritz. It was wonderful to host you.

— Nikita