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About Bologna

One time, this dude—total sleaze—tried rippin me off. Said, “She’s top tier,” but she was high as fuck, stumblin like Laura Harring after that car crash. I was like, “No dice, asshole!” Stomped off, yellin, “I’m angry! I’m very angry!”—yep, straight outta *Mulholland*. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but fuck it, it’s my story!

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After that, I decide to hit up the gardens at Trauttmansdorff. I mean, who doesn’t love a good garden? I’m wandering around, and it’s all beautiful flowers and weird sculptures. I’m vibing, until I see this family having a picnic. They’ve got a whole spread—cheese, bread, wine. I’m drooling. So, I’m like, “Hey, can I join?” They look at me like I’m a weirdo. Rude! I mean, who wouldn’t want to share their cheese?

this plastic-free campsite in northern italy is built from local timber