Oslo in November is a mood. The sun clocks in late, clocks out mid-afternoon, and in between it gives you soft grey light, wet leaves on the pavement and a fjord that looks like brushed steel. Then the whole city lights candles in every café window and suddenly it’s the
Berlin in October is a mood. The light turns honey-gold for about forty minutes a day, the lindens along the Kreuzberg streets drop leaves onto the bike lanes, and then the sky goes the colour of wet concrete and drizzles on you just because it can. It’s not cold enough
Let me be honest with you: I almost brought exactly the same suitcase I’d have packed for July. Same linen dresses, same flat sandals, same single cardigan “just in case.” Big mistake. Sardinia in October is a completely different island — quieter, windier, golden instead of blinding-white, and about ten
