There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign

Robert Louis Stevenson

Fabiana Magrì

I am a journalist, digital nomad.
My sixth sense is traveling

As an expat myself, I could use the words “relocate” and “travel” as synonyms to trace the geographies that make up the map of my story. This must be the reason why I don’t need to call a single place “home”: I just love having several “homes”.

I have been living and working between Israel and Italy since 2012. As a journalist, I have been reporting for Italian media – newspapers, magazines, web tv and radio – such as La Stampa, Specchio, ELLE, DOVE, etc. Covering a broad-spectrum of subjects – from politics to innovation, from culture to travel – has allowed me to build a network of contacts and good relationships in a wide range of sectors.

I have always concealed my desire to get to know New York. I feared the suffering of never discovering it or not being up to it. When the opportunity presented itself, it was an immense gift: the perfect week. Just a few days before the world came to the first extreme event of the second millennium with a truly global impact. At Hudson Yards I throw my gaze overboard. I’m waiting for the day when I’m going to get it back.

I found myself in Reykjavík by chance during a snowy season, with my gaze on the sea. In this remote city I discovered that the most secluded corners of the world are far from being isolated. Reykjavík entered my nostrils one morning, thanks to the wind from the sea.

I have been going back to London periodically with two missions: look inside myself and look for challenges. I will always cherish the memories of the city where I chatted with Brian Eno, on a Notting Hill sidewalk: “Hey Brian, it’s Fabiana!”. I had met him in Rome working on one of his exhibitions.

I was born in Genoa on a snowy day, with my gaze on the sea. I love the city laid bare by Fabrizio De Andrè and the one hinted at by Eugenio Montale. In Genoa, I absorbed the “understatement”, the agility of walking on the rocks and the attraction for the bottle green color of the sea.

In Rome I ended up several times, despite myself. With an orphaned gaze of the sea, I lived the city poised between charm and unease. It is undoubtedly the city where I have moved houses more than ever. And skin, as well.

Tel Aviv was offered to me as a dowry. I landed in the “coolest” city in the Middle East with unwavering confidence and my gaze focused on the sea again. Then, unexpected, the snow came on my wedding day. I have dedicated more words and images to this city than to any other place. In exchangeTel Aviv handed me Beshushu.