Porto Cervo
Sun-worn, tactile, exactly where it belongs.
Sardinia makes me think about how little architecture sometimes needs to do. The landscape is already so strong — the rocks, the dry vegetation, the colour of the water — that the best buildings seem to know when to disappear. Walls follow the terrain, materials are left imperfect, and inside and outside are never completely separate.
What I notice: stone that looks as if it had always been there, rounded plaster walls, timber, shaded terraces and floors that continue towards the sea. Everything feels tactile, sun-worn and slightly irregular.
What stays with me most is that particular kind of Mediterranean luxury that has very little to do with excess. It comes from material, proportion, shade, and the feeling that architecture belongs exactly where it is.