Tucked in Montmartre, this café has creaky chairs, strong espresso, and waiters who don’t care if you linger for hours. I wrote half my journal here, fueled by croissants and people-watching. Perfect for daydreaming.
Found a bench by Slovenia’s Lake Bled that’s so peaceful, I read an entire novel in one sitting. It’s off the tourist trail, with views of the castle and mountains. Bring a book and a thermos of tea.
This vineyard near Siena has a stone table under an olive tree where I wrote letters to myself (cheesy, I know). The Chianti helps. I’ll share how to find it without getting lost in the hills.
Behind a mosque in Istanbul, there’s a courtyard with a fountain and stray cats. I spent hours here reading Orhan Pamuk and jotting down thoughts. It’s the kinda place that makes you feel like a poet.