I will begin by saying that I was born in Sesto San Giovanni (Milano) in 1963. My educational journey proved to be a rocky road from the very start, with one crucial exception: the years I spent at the Salesian boarding school—an environment that left a deep mark on me. Earning my diploma was a tough challenge. Even back then, I was working hard to carve out a path for myself through my own efforts; this forced me to grit my teeth and attend some of my classes in the evening.

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At seventeen, I began to lift my shadow from the ground with a hang glider, then moved on to ultralight aircraft, and finally to the controls of civil aviation vehicles: airplanes and helicopters. Great sacrifices and significant financial commitments, undertaken to pursue an overwhelming passion and with the hope that it could open up new professional horizons. Yet, in the end, the call of the sea always prevailed, pushing me to focus all my resources and energy on scuba diving.

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Flying, experienced with the control stick and the cyclical gear both for pleasure and professionally, has led me to chart routes far beyond the borders of Italy. I've confronted operational scenarios at polar opposites: from the congested skies of the United States to the remote atolls of French Polynesia, to the wild and impenetrable mountains of Papua New Guinea, where visual flight requires absolute respect for the surrounding environment.

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But the underwater world has been the true backbone of four decades of my life. I began at twenty, breathing nitrogen in the field as an instructor, then moving behind the counter of a dive shop in Milan, first for work, and later this position allowed me to begin to understand every single commercial mechanism. Step by step, I transformed that vocation into a business: I founded my own company, bet on brands that were completely unknown at the time, and navigated against the tide until they became prestigious benchmarks in the dive market.

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Then, life forces sudden changes of direction. Eleven years ago, I decided to lower the sails in that sector to answer a deeper calling: to take over the Capricornio Club in Maiori, the small family resort nestled in a lemon grove in the heart of the Amalfi Coast. My grandparents, due to their age, could no longer keep up with them, and the facility was slowly losing its luster; I couldn't allow that heritage to be lost.

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But those with the exploration bug never truly stop. Writing a book is perhaps a dream we all cherish; it took me several years, but eventually that dream found its path. I gathered ideas, testimonies, and stories to graft directly onto my own experiences: the goal wasn't to invent from scratch, but to anchor the allure of mystery and the adventure of travel in a real, tangible world, where every historical, geographical, and operational element could be fully verified in the field.

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I wanted a real novel. I wanted to combine the fast-paced pace of modern action, with precise and believable technical details, with the ancient allure of the great enigmas of the past. Not the usual fairy tale, but a narrative built on logic, technology, and pure adrenaline. From this impulse, my debut novel, The Secret of Zerzura, was born: a race against time through forgotten routes, dives into sunken shipwrecks, and the burning sands of the desert.

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For me, writing is like planning a flight plan or charting a course at sea: it requires precise coordinates, respect for detail, and the desire to always push one step further. Now that the book exists, I only hope that in these pages you can find the same spark that has always driven me to look beyond the horizon.

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Because in the end, whether around a campfire in the desert or on the page of a book, we are all part of the same story.

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Settle down, the route is set. See you at the end of the journey.