Anastasia Dubinina

The Eternal City in January offers a particular kind of solitude. Tourist crowds have temporarily receded, leaving space for a more contemplative engagement with Rome’s layered history. I’ve taken a small apartment in Trastevere for the month—my first extended stay in a single location after nearly two years of perpetual movement. Each morning, I cross

There’s a particular quality to Pisan light in December—crystalline, precise, carrying both warmth and chill simultaneously. Though my initial visit coincided with the tail end of literary events, I’ve found myself lingering in this city whose winter character offers a different kind of inspiration than its more famous summer persona. The tourist crowds have thinned

Inspiration rarely arrives through expected channels. I came to Warsaw with literary intentions but found myself instead immersed in the 67th Warsaw Autumn Festival (Warszawska Jesień)—Poland’s premier contemporary classical music event that transforms concert halls, churches, and unconventional spaces across the city into laboratories of sound exploration. The experience has proven unexpectedly nourishing for my

There is something about geological extremes that resets the human perspective. In the past month, I’ve found myself drawn to landscapes that speak of time’s immensity—first the ancient granite formations of Karelia in northwestern Russia, then the otherworldly limestone chambers of Damlatas Cave in Turkey. These contrasting environments—one vast and exposed, the other enclosed and

Cities reveal themselves differently after sunset. Budapest, already mesmerizing by day with its neo-Gothic parliament and art nouveau facades, transforms into something truly magical in the evening hours. For the past three nights, I’ve been attending performances at the Budapest Summer Festival, where the illuminated Chain Bridge and Buda Castle provide a backdrop so spectacular