Lisa's Holistic Day Spa

10/13/2025

10/02/2025

10/02/2025

09/26/2025

🔗 https://l.nyup.com/oneqly

Looking for a new way to explore the outdoors? Rail biking in Upstate New York lets you pedal along historic railroad tracks while soaking in some of the state’s most scenic landscapes.

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09/26/2025

09/26/2025

A new ice cream shop, COCOCELLO 109, is set to open this Saturday at 2620 Central Avenue. Founded by Thanya Rtd., this sweet spot will offer a unique twist on

09/26/2025

08/22/2025

08/01/2025

You can keep Positano. We’re not there.

We’re in Sperlonga, eating cold pasta salad under an umbrella we’ve owned since the '90s.

We’re in Gaeta, swimming before lunch, burning our feet on the sand, then arguing over which tiella is better.

We’re in Vasto, where the brodetto still tastes like the sea and the lidos are full of yelling families, not influencers with tripods.

In Alba Adriatica, you ride a rusty bike to the beach, eat gelato on a bench, and no one asks where you’re from.

Civitanova Marche means fried fish in paper cones, plastic chairs, and the same neighbors every summer.

Scilla? That’s Calabria’s jewel — houses built right over the sea, waves under your window, and actual peace once the day-trippers leave.

When we want silence, we disappear to Ventotene.

For a quick dream, we boat out to Palmarola, swim in absurd blue water.

Acciaroli is slow on purpose — naps in the shade, old men playing cards, and mozzarella that still comes from someone you know.

Maratea is cliffs, hairpin roads, caves, and no rush.

Ischia is where Naples escapes — thermal pools, real locals, no yacht clubs, and dinner that still costs what dinner should cost.

Vieste is wild and white and full of pine forest behind the beach. Real families, real food, and that smell of sunscreen and fried stuff you remember from when you were a kid.

Porto Cesareo is all shallow turquoise water and chaos in a good way — kids everywhere, people shouting, sand in the car, and fried calamari by the kilo.

And Gallipoli? It’s loud, crowded, fun, alive — the kind of place where everything tastes better because you’ve had too much sun and not enough sleep.

And then there’s Ponza, where Italians slip away on little boats, dock in coves you’ve never seen on Instagram, and swim until dinner. It’s rough, beautiful, and still ours.

San Felice Circeo — the summer home of Roman families for generations. Old villas, clean beaches, everyone knows everyone. It’s not showy — it’s just solid.

Peschici? Tucked into the Gargano coast, full of Italians on holiday with the nonni, eating seafood under vine-covered pergolas while the kids scream somewhere in the background.

These are the places we go. Always have.