I’ve been reading Italo Calvino’s Marcovaldo: or The seasons in the city on my vacation.

It was given to me by a Calvino lover, whom I also happen to love so I was happy to read it.

I started yesterday on the top of a hill overlooking the mountains and foothills of Granada, I finished it in a bars and other benches around the city, and I’ve decided it’s the perfect travel companion.

At only 121 pages, it is a fast read and the short, unconnected nature of the stories means you can read through as much or as little as you like at a sitting.

The book follows the live of Marcovaldo, an unremarkable, remarker on nature and everything around him. It further aids your travel because it reminds you to think like our protagonist and narrator, to notice mushrooms in cracks of the pavement and to wander dreamlike to your next flight.

I hadn’t read Calvino before this and while I can’t say if the translation is any good, his words keep the mix of poetry and prose that I believe is the original intent.

If you want to begin to notice more of whats around you, read this book.