Ceramic stopover

Our trip to the southern part of Puglia had come to an end.  We had a drive to our next and last location.  The drive was a bit longer, a bit under three hours.  Normally, I would punch that out in one guy without any problems, but things were now different with the baby Pickle.  Instead. I arranged for us to make the journey in easy stages.  We would stop twice on our way to our final stop.  The first place we stopped was in Lecce for a last and short visit.  The drive wasn't too long.  I was familiar with the roads now, so we arrived and parked in less than 40 minutes.  Once there, we went for one last visit to the gelateria we had been visiting on each visit (so much so that the staff had started to give us free items) and let baby Pickle play in some of the wonderful parks on the outskirts of the old town.

We had left the masseria a bit later than I had wanted and so we were now in a bit of a strange time.  Too early for lunch, but later than where we should have been.  I took us back to the car and as I left the parking garage, I managed to scratch the rear bumper on the a small post.  Annoying, but thankfully minor.  I looked through my options of where to take us.  Should I do the last part of the journey in one go or should I still go through with my plan of making one further stop in between.  We still needed to eat, so I thought it best to do one more stop even if it meant we would be a bit later.  Looking at the map and where we needed to be, I set my phone for the town of Grottaglie.

The drive was relatively uneventful.  The roads were good, and we drove past the city of Taranto with its enormous port facilities.  We had read that from a tourist point of view, that Taranto didn't have as much to offer as other places in the region, but I couldn't help but wonder if I should have visited.  This famous and ancient of towns has such a storied history, and its name had popped up frequently in the books and histories I had read over the years.  Maybe for a future trip, but for now I had to keep driving.  We arrived in Grottaglie in the early afternoon.  It was extremely hot.  We parked the car and went to look for lunch.  The town was completely empty.  The heat of the day probably kept people away, but even with that explanation there was still a bit of a deserted feel.  Everything was well maintained and in good condition, it was just empty.  We found a restaurant that seemed to still be open.  We went in and they apologised to us profusely that they were already closing.  We were disappointed and a bit lost as to what to do.  We had come late enough in the day that it looked as if we had missed the lunch service for most restaurants.  As we stood to the side contemplating what to do, one of the elderly looking chefs seemed to realise our problem and pointed us down to the lanes next to the restaurant, directing us to another restaurant that he was sure would be able to take us.  We followed his directions and found the family restaurant that still had some guests.  They told us they were closing, but would take us in if we ordered quickly.  We happily obliged and were soon seated with icy drinks to cool us down.  It was a family restaurant and it seemed all the staff were in some way related.  Baby Pickle roamed up and down the restaurant.  The other guests cooed and waved at him as he explored all everything he could.  From inside the kitchen, the old matron of the family appeared as she heard the outside commotion and her face lit up seeing him walking around.

 

We enjoyed our time in the restaurant and probably stayed a bit too long.  We were the last guests for the day and the staff seemed to be waiting for us before leaving themselves.  We could see they were enjoying playing with baby Pickle, but I'm sure they still wanted to leave.  So after settling the bill, we headed out into the town to look around before we continued on our journey.

It was still very hot when we started to walk around the town, but the worst of the heat had subsided.  The small lanes and streets were still largely deserted.  Strangely, it didn't feel as empty though.  Even though there were no people, you could see and feel the signs of life everywhere, like everyone had just stepped away for the briefest of moments (which I guess was the case).  There were lovely murals on the walls, flowers growing everywhere and the houses were a mix between renovated old buildings and some very modern builds.

We had been told a bit about Grottaglie by the people at the hotel we had been staying at in Monopoli.  When asked about where the best places to visit in Puglia, the son had listed this as being high on his list of locations.  One thing in particular that it was famous for was its pottery and ceramics.  So far we hadn't seen too much.  We started to walk outside of the old town, through the large town walls.  I checked the map and there seemed to be a long winding road that would take us back to where we had parked our car.  As we past the walls, we could now see all of the ceramic stores one another.

Veronica disappeared into one of the stores and I kept on walking along the street with the baby Pickle.  There was a large shop off to the side that caught my eye.  I started walking in as Veronica suddenly appeared and followed me in.  I tried to converse with them in my limited Italian and they seemed to light up, trying to explain to us all the various ceramics that were in the store.  As usual, more than anything it was the baby Pickle they seemed to be most interested in as he laughed and squealed at them.  Almost everything we had seen in the region apparently came from Grottaglie.  We happy that to date, we had bought nothing.  Veronica looked at the various traditional "buds" that were a symbol of the region and grabbed a few for us and for friends.  As she was paying, she also noticed a few things for the kitchen and so immediately bought those as well.

We slowly made our way back to the car.  There had been no shade so it had been sitting fully exposed in the sun.  We had only been away for a few hours, but the dustiness of the area and of the roads made the car look like it had been sitting abandoned for years.  I opened the doors and felt the wave of heat push out.  It took a bit of time before the car was cool enough for us to put baby Pickle in, let alone for us to set off on our drive.  The drive to our last stop took far longer than expected.  The roads were good and very picturesque, but they changed halfway through from multi laned higways to single lane roads.  A long line of cars backed up as a single car decided to crawl slowly along the road.  At each opportunity to overtake, the cars behind it baffled me with their own complete reluctance to overtake.  They seemed to be completely content with driving 20km below the speed limit and following this car.  Eventually, I saw my own opportunity and embraced the crazy Italian driver inside.  I saw a very long stretch of road.  There was no traffic coming the other direction and there was a long distance of clearly uninterrupted visibility for me.  I pulled out and overtook the line of three cars that seemed determined to meander along this road.  I past them all and raced into the open road, finally free of the obstacles.  I looked into my rear view mirror.  It appeared that I had galvanised the others as car after car also followed my lead to get past.  We made a turn right and started to climb up higher.  I started now to get a little bit worried.  I was driving a hybrid and the distance indicator had previously been giving me and estimate that was more than enough for me to reach our destination.  This was all based on our highway driving.  As we continued to climb up through the winding roads, the estimate continued to fall.  Would I even make it?  I kept glancing at the estimated distance and comparing it to the GPS distance.  The numbers were converging more than I wanted.  We began to see more buildings and apartments.  My fears subsided and I could see our end destination coming into the screen.  It was definitely tighter than I had hoped and when I finally parked, the estimate was less than 20km left of driving.

 

None of that mattered anymore.  We had arrived at our final destination in "Puglia" (though not really).  The ancient town of Matera.

Poetry

The coastline along the southern part of Puglia is breathtakingly beautiful.  This hasn't always been a touristic part of the world and it seems that it was actually quite a poor place up until relatively recently.  Everything in the area was more rural and less developed than other places we had been in Italy and there also still seemed to be far less tourists that we would otherwise expect.  From the masseria, we drove further north one day to explore a bit more of the coastline.  There were some famous caves not too far from us.  We arrived in time for lunch at the small town of Torre Dell Orso.  It was a very sleepy little town.  I was reminded of the little coastal towns I used to visit growing up in Australia that existed for the brief summer periods of holiday and were otherwise close to dead.  This had that exact feel to it, albeit with a bit more size.  I also thought back to S'Agora in Spain.  Maybe it was just the nature of these Mediterranean holiday towns.

It really was a very sleepy town.

There was almost nobody out and even the restaurants didn't seem too interested in doing any business.  We found a small restaurant that was still open.  It was next to a kind of town square.  Not the traditional town squares you think of when you imagine Italy, more of a modern large courtyard space you would find in the middle of some modern apartment complex construction.  The waiters were kind and helpful, but the food was probably the worst we had eaten in all our time in Italy.

 

We got back into the car and drove a few minutes further along the coast.  I found some parking down a dusty old lane and we walked over back along the cliffs of the coast.  Most of this coastline was fenced off.  We found the small ticket booth.  Isolated in the middle of the vast expanse, it looked like something out of an old surrealist European movie.  We paid for the tickets and started our walk along the coastline.

Most of the coastline is normally free to all to walk and wander.  This area was a bit more special. It was a sparse and barren area.  There were no trees.  The ground was dry and rocky, with only some small shrubs and grass desperately trying to survive.  We kept walking.

We reached an area with some more activity.  People gathered and took photos.  This was why were had come.  This was the famous "Cave of Poetry".

I hadn't told Veronica about this before we had come.  She had been a bit confused about why we were here.  Paying the tickets for such an underwhelming coastal walk seemed unnecessary to her and it was clear that she had been trying to make the best of the walk.  It was different now that we were here.  The cave was indeed quite lovely.  The shadows and light brought out a sharp blue green in the water.  I stayed with the baby Pickle as Veronica made her way down to the water to get a closer look.  She admired all of the views and gazed deeply into the water.

At the far end, at the mouth of the cave, people gathered to jump and dive into the water.  There were convenient rocks and ledges off to the side that let people easily crawl back up.  They scampered along the rocks back to the heights and then jumped again.

I watched them with a feint feeling of jealously, regretting that I hadn't brought any bathers myself.  The day was hot and jumping into the cool waters was appealing.  

Florence of the South

On our drive to the masseria, we had stopped briefly on the outskirts of Lecce.  We only stayed long enough for a short break and a meal and hadn't explored any further.  It was the middle of the day and the heat was obscene.  We tried to hide in the shade of the trees as we made our way to some restaurants we had looked up online.  We stayed on the outskirts and didn't go to the old city centre.  Everything was quiet during the middle of the day, but we were happy to find our restaurant relatively quickly and even happier with the quality of the food.  Inside the vibrant and noisy restaurant, the tables were fill with families, couples and groups of friends of all ages.  We soon came to chatting with the tables around us.  Everyone was delighted by baby Pickle and his antics, especially the older folk.  I tried my best to communicate and chat in my slowly improving Italian.  One older lady could hardly believe I was speaking in Italian to her (albeit poor Italian).  Did we live in Lecce?  How did I come to speak Italian?  Why was I learning?  It was all amazing to her and she was even more shocked when I explained that I had been learning using a combination of apps and online teachers.

We didn't come straight back to Lecce.  After arriving at the masseria, we instead decided to relax at the location and to enjoy visits to some of the even closer locations.  A few days past, it seemed like a good time to venture out a bit further to see a bit more of what Lecce had to offer.

We drove back in from the masseria.  The drive itself wasn't too bad and it was faster than the 40 minutes set out on the phone.  Most of the drive was on modern and high quality highways, but even with all the wonderfully constructed roads they still managed to incorporate a few poorly signed and abrupt turnoffs.  It didn't make much sense to me why they spent so much time and effort on these roads to then include such sloppy little touches at such important locations.  It was a constant theme of all my driving in Italy it seemed.  Parking at the same spot we had been the last time, we made our way into the old town.

Almost immediately, I was taken aback by the beauty of this city.  It was refined.  It was elegant.  The design and the buildings seemed to capture a combination of the high and grand European architecture of other cities with the warm glow of the Mediterranean.  

We had arrived in the early afternoon during the brightest time during the day.  The sun shone brightly and the whole city had a pale glow.  As the sun started to set and the day gave way to dusk, the streets darkened and became more intimate.  The bright glow changed to a subtle reflected shine that made everything seem even more beautiful.

Since we were so enamoured with the place, we decided to visit several more times during the course of our visit in the region.  Each time, we seemed to find a bit more to like about the city.  Beyond just the stunning facade, there were churches and museums and a huge number of stores that seemed to interest Veronica.  

We also found the food scene in Lecce to be bigger and more varied than other places we had visited.  This was definitely a bigger city than the other places we had been so far, so it made sense that there would be more options available.  However, there also seemed to be a refinement and class to the city that elevated many of the dining establishments and provided more high end options as well.  Each place we ate at was enjoyable.  The food was regional, but all just a bit classier.  Yet they still served and looked after us with kindness.  Traveling with the baby Pickle was never an issue and they always seemed to enjoy having us there.

 

On the outskirts of the old town, the grand and impressive buildings gave way to beautiful parks.  They were well maintained and buzzed with locals and their children.  Even during the heat of the day, these parks seemed to be a bit cooler.  The trees were tall and numerous, providing ample shade.  There was playground equipment for baby Pickle to explore as well as places for us to get water and cool off.  It seemed the city had everything we could want in a place to visit.

Every visit we made to Lecce seemed to strengthen and reinforce for me the true loveliness of this city.  Its nickname of the "Florence of the South" seemed perfect to me.  Very often, these names make me roll my eyes as only there is usually only the briefest and smallest of resemblance to the more famous (and usually much nicer) namesake.  For Lecce, I felt this name may even be a bit of a disservice.  It is a wonderfully beautiful city, and for it to only be seen as a southern version of Florence doesn't capture all the special and unique parts of the city.  There was a reason we visited so many times and it was a place I wanted to visit again in the future.

Otranto

Once we were settled into the masseria, we went to visit the nearby towns.  The closest town to the masseria was Otranto.  When we checked the maps, it was listed as being only 9 minutes away from the masseria.  Even this short time was a bit conservative and the reality was that the drive was more like 5 minutes once I knew where I was headed.

The town has a reputation for its beauty.  Given everything we had already seen in Puglia, that reputation would have been hard earned, so we were looking forward to seeing how special this place was ourselves.  We parked the car, put baby Pickle into his stroller and started to walk towards the town.  It was a short walk, through tree lined streets.  This area felt affluent and very well maintained.  Rather than walk straight into the old town immediately, we decided instead to take a slight detour and walked along the waterfront of the beach next to the old town.  From there we walked past modern apartment developments with the accompanying shops and restaurants downstairs.  It felt very different to the traditional old towns we had visited and more like a modern seaside resort town.  From across the little bay, we had a beautiful and unimpeded view of the old town. 

Walking into the old town itself, it again felt a bit different from other towns we had visited.  Once again, it was a more polished experience.  This was still clearly a historic old town like all the others we had visited, and yet the feeling of manufactured newness seemed to permeate through this location just a bit more than the other places.  Maybe it was the styling, or maybe it was how busy it was with tourists.  It just seemed particularly artificial.

We kept visiting the town.  The strange initial artificial feeling didn't stop us from exploring and as we came back repeatedly, we found more and more in the the town that we liked.

It must have been a part of the summer festivities, but there was a constant parade of music and dancing through the streets.  Whether just locals enjoying themselves or a more organised performance, I wasn't so sure, but it didn't matter.  On several occasions, as Veronica ate dinner, I tried to give her some respite from the screaming baby Pickle by taking him off on an adventure around the town.  It was an easy thing to do as we followed the bands and dancers around.  Pickle would lock his eyes on the bright colours and the wonderful music.  I set him out at the front of the crowds and he rocked and danced to the beat of the music and the utter delight of the gathered audience.

We also found restaurants that gave us everything we wanted in both food and kindness.  The higher class of the town also meant a higher class of dining.  The restaurants still felt casual and homely, but they definitely had a more upmarket clientele in mind.  The options on offer were a bit more expensive, but also a bit more luxuriant.  Seafood was as always the focus, but prepared, cooked and served with more care and detail.  The service still retained that loving kindness we had come to enjoy in this part of Italy.  The servers and staff laughed and joked with all the customers, they made faces at the children and seemed to genuinely enjoy the evenings with us all.

After exploring the town several times, we had the same feelings.  It was "old", but it was all refurbished, rebuilt, revitalised.  It didn't necessarily feel as authentic as some of the other places we had visited, but it was nonetheless a very attractive town.  I normally wouldn't like a place like this as much as others, but there was an incredible vibe and energy to this town.  In the evenings it was active and completely full of life, with both visitors and locals.  It was a place we seemed to enjoy visiting every time.  Our meals were happy.  Our wandering around was fun.  What more could you ask for? 

Going to a farm

Our time in Monopoli had come to an end.  We had spent a few blissful days there.  The region had so far met and exceeded all of my expectations.  The next stop on our journey was further south.  We decided to base ourselves at a masseria south of Lecce and close to a beach for the next part of the holiday. From this spot, we would be able to explore the southern part of Puglia.

The drive was a bit under 2 hours.  As we left the northern part of Puglia, the surroundings became more rural and everything seemed to become more sparse.  There were still towns and there was still activity by the side of the highways, but it felt less developed.  About half way through the journey, we stopped for a rest on the outskirts of Lecce.  We weren't going to go in to explore too much at this time, but we had a nice lunch.  From even this brief stop, we could see that Lecce was a beautiful city and we made notes in our minds of things we saw in the distance that we wanted to see more of.  

We drove less than an hour from Lecce to get to the masseria.  It was very close to Otranto, and we could see its walls rising up in the distance and then as we passed by.  We would soon see much more of this perfectly maintained little town as well.  For now, we only had the last few minutes of driving before we were at the masseria.  We turned off the main road and down the smaller streets, lined with small houses and farm stays.  The quality of the street started to get worse and eventually we went from paved to unpaved.  The dust flew as the car drove and then we were away from all of the surrounding buildings and properties, with wheat fields on either side.  In the distance I could see the walls of what I thought was the masseria, with the path close to it lined with tall poplar trees.  We drove through the gates and staff quickly appeared to greet us.

 

As our luggage was taken away and our room prepared, we immediately took advantage of the grounds of the masseria.  It was late afternoon, and the light of the day was fading.  It was warm and comfortable.  It was quiet.  The sound of the wind blowing through the nearby fields and trees seemed to immediately calm and relax us.  It was wonderfully soothing.  Pickle and Veronica played and ran around in the orchard and on the grass as I went in to arrange our check in.

As the sun began to set, it seemed to all get even more peaceful.  The gentle sounds of the local natural environment could be heard, birds singing and insects chirping.  I felt this strong feeling of release.  I looked around at the calm and the beautiful surroundings.  The next few days would hopefully be relaxing.

The white town

Traveling around had been quite easy so far.  Most of the places we wanted to visit were within a half an hour drive.  The drives were calm and scenic, and the roads were generally good.  The only blemish to all of this were the terrifyingly badly designed highway on-ramps which provided no time or space at all the actually merge onto the traffic.  It seemed to create a horror scene each time with cars trying to accelerate onto the highway and cars trying to avoid them.  I entered each time with fear and learnt quickly to stay on the outside lane whenever I saw one of the on-ramps.

For our next visit, we decided to go to the nearby town of Ostuni.

This was one of the famous "white cities" of the region. With most of the buildings painted in white paint, these towns stood out amongst their surroundings.  Ostuni was even more special.  The town was higher up in the hills, and the town itself was built around the top of the hill.  It made Ostuni look like singular complex castle structure rising out of the ground.  

Inside, the town was a series of tight and winding alleys and streets.  Much like the other towns in the area, it was all maze and labyrinth-like, but here there was the added fun of the steep slopes and stairs that needed to be navigated.  It was a beautiful place to visit, but with the stroller we had to be extra careful to not slip on all the stones polished by the shoes of countless tourists.

 

We wandered through the town, we had a nice lunch, we changed baby Pickle.  It was a calm and relaxing exploration of a beautiful place.  As nice as it was to explore, I felt that this town was probably better to visit fro the "outside".  From the outside and the nearby "modern" part of the town it was an impressive looking place. From the inside, it was still beautiful, but certainly not as unique.  It shared many of the qualities of the other nearby towns without necessarily having any particular unique feature.

Before we left, I took us down to the top of the "walls".  There was a wide road that ran on top of the first wall and at the base of the first level of buildings.  From this point, there was a completely unobstructed view across the plains and towards the ocean.  I had tried several times to get to this point from within the town, but each attempt to walk down I had hit a dead-end or enormous sets of stairs that were too much for me to navigate with baby Pickle's stroller.  I was only once we had left the old town and started walking down that I found the path that took us out towards to this road. 

It was a big and open area.  Surprisingly, it was almost completely deserted of people.  There was a small cafe built into the base of one of the enormous buildings and so we ordered so coffees to enjoy the wide open space.  With the small wall on one side and the buildings on the other side, this seemed to be the best space to let baby Pickle run around safely.

Monopoli

Our decision to base ourselves out of Monopoli for the first part of our holiday had been well rewarded.

I was already liking the region and I was very quickly becoming enamoured with this town in particular.  

Unlike some of the other towns in the area, Monopoli seemed to have everything needed for a long and comfortable stay.  It had a lovely old town, but since it didn't seem to have the same big singular tourist attraction of other towns, the town seemed to avoid many of the quick day trip visits of those who came to look at that attraction and then leave (much like what we were doing in other towns in the area).  Instead, what made Monopoli special was the entire way the entire sum of what the town had to offer.

For a town on the water, it had a lovely waterfront.  None of it was derelict or run down, and it had a nice variety of sections both developed and more natural.  It stretched out over the entire length of the town and out towards walking paths that led to small little coves and beaches on the outskirts.  None of these were particularly large and so they seemed to retain their local only charm, with families and the like enjoying the water and swimming.  Within the old town itself, the "boardwalk" area was well developed and it was very easy to walk around the outside of the town, well protected from the water with lots of room to move.  Was this still an area to be called a "boardwalk", there was no wood after all and it was all just paved with stone with small walls enclosing the area from the sea.  A nice area to enjoy a walk regardless of the name.

Within the old town itself, it felt vibrant and happy.  It was a beautiful and at times maze-like old town, with small lanes and alleys leading in and out of piazzas that were sometimes busy with people and shops, and in other instances empty of anything at all.  Along the narrow lanes, the locals hung their clothes on lines stretching across the buildings, but also decorated many of the streets brightly to an extent I hadn't seen elsewhere before.  There were small shops, restaurants and cafes to explore and enjoy throughout.  There was also a size to the place that gave it a bigger population of both visitors and locals to support a wider range of services and shops.  On the weekend evenings, the town seemed to draw in locals from the entire region to enjoy its offerings and it created a buzz that seemed more authentic that if it were merely tourists like ourselves.  

 

The food options in the old town were fantastic.  We were enjoying the cuisine of the region.  Like most parts of Italy, there is a strong focus on the local produce, and given the strong agricultural and seafood industries in Puglia, everything we ate seemed to be of the highest quality.  Fresh, seasonal and from the region.  For all the tradition, there also seemed to be a greater willingness to do things a little bit differently.  We ate more crudos and "sashimi" style dishes than anywhere else in Italy and yet everything still maintained its distinctive Italian taste and characteristic.

What was great for us within the old town was the safety and the kindness of the locals.  There were few areas that allowed cars, and most of the streets seemed quite enclosed.  It made for a nicely protected place for baby Pickle to run and explore whilst we ate and enjoyed our time at the restaurants.  More often than not, the staff of the restaurants and cafes seemed to become completely captivated by baby Pickle and would entertain him for us or start to bring us random additional dishes or drinks on top of what we ordered.  These were all simple little things, but each gesture was greatly appreciated and it made us feel all the more welcome in their beautiful town.

Immediately outside of the old town of the Monopoli was the large modern piazza.  It was lined with trees and had a large fountain on one side.  On the long and comfortable summer evenings, this seemed to be a meeting point for the locals to congregate.  Children ran around playing, families went for walks and the elderly sat long the benches next to the fountain chatting and enjoying their time outside.  We came here for our own walks and with the wide open space, it seemed like the perfect place to let baby Pickle stretch his legs and run.  Taking him out of the stroller, he quickly picked up speed and ran quickly across the space.  He seemed to particularly enjoy visiting all of the elderly people seated around the fountain, and they were all enamoured with his visits as he ran back and forth.

It was one of the other great things about Monopoli.  The fact that it wasn't so small meant that it was able to have far more amenities and services than other towns in the region.  Further out from the central area, there were large shops and supermarkets, all perfect for the day to day necessities at far better prices than the little tourist shops.  It made everything a bit easier and more convenient, as well as making the stay in the town all the less stressful.  

  

This was a lovely town.  A beautiful town.  I felt at ease and at home here.  It had the balance of everything I wanted in an Italian town without surrendering itself to the rush of tourists.  It was beautifully old and still had all the amenities needed for a longer stay.  I started to think more about it.  Was this the place I was looking for?  It was a strange feeling.  Was it possible?  Maybe it was time to make a greater commitment to my love of this Italian lifestyle?

Alberobello

Our plan for our time in Puglia was to only stay in a few locations, but to then day trip around to visit the region.  We didn't want to be constantly on the move, to be packing and unpacking as we made our way from hotel to hotel.  With the car, it seemed to be a better approach to limit the moves, that would balance our rest with our exploration.  After a relaxing first full day, we went off to see more of the region.

Our first stop was the town of Martina Franca. Beyond having a lovely name, the town has a reputation for being a beautiful place to visit.

We parked on the edge of town and made our way in.  It was the beginning of a very hot day and we could already feel the effects of the sun as it seemed to bake us from both above and reflecting off all the stone surfaces.  Once we reached the old town itself, we were able to hide in the shade in the narrow streets and alleys.

Veronica wandered from shop to shop, browsing through through the clothes and jewelry on offer.  It was indeed a very pretty town, but the old town was quite small.  Most of what we were there to see seemed to surround a long street that cut through the middle of the town and ended at a unique crescent shaped piazza.  We wandered back to the nearby church and found a small cafe to recuperate from the heat.  It was getting close to lunch, so rather than stay we decided to move on to another destination.

We had the choice of going to the nearby Locorotondo or driving a little futher to Alberobello.  Given the time, we decided to skip Locorotonodo.  We had been recommended a "zero kilometre" restaurant in Alberobello, and given the time, we needed to move fast.  The short drive became a longer drive as the navigation system failed me completely and sent me down roads that didn't exist and onto turns that lead to dead ends.  Somehow, we managed to find a parking spot in the closest carpark immediately next to the beginning of the ZTL.  We grabbed the baby out of his baby sit, put him into the stroller and sped off towards the restaurant which was still over ten minutes away.  Ignoring everything around us, we walked quickly.  The day was extremely hot now, so we moved to the side of the streets with the most shade as we walked, oblivious to our surroundings.  We arrived at the restaurant with feint hope that they would still take us, but by some strange miracle they let us in. 

We were led through a small discreet door.  From the outside, it looked like a small shop front or even a home.  But through the restaurant on the other side we found ourselves in a huge garden.  All along the side were tables, shaded under trees and vines.  This was a secluded little paradise away from the rest of the world.  In the near distance, we could see some of the famous trullo style houses that this town was famous for.  By some stroke of good fortune, baby also decided that now was the time to fall asleep.

We ordered some wine to savour this moment.  For the food options, it was already decided for us and we were brought out course after course of all locally sourced produce.  As a "zero kilometre" restaurant, everything served at the restaurant was sourced from, the name suggests, within one kilometre of the restaurant.  The food was incredible.  All fresh as you would expect, but the flavours were intense and everything was cooked with that in mind.  There was a crunch and a snap to all the produce.  Each bite seemed full of goodness, full of the life of the region.

After our very satisfying meal, we slowly walked back towards the town.  In our rush to get to the restaurant, we had ignored all our surroundings.  Our focus had been on the restaurant only, so nothing else around us seemed to matter.  As we walked back towards the famous part of the town, we were shocked to see the famous trulli, all lined up on the hill. We hadn't seen any of this in our rush.  

From our vantage point on the hill opposite the main attraction, we could see the densely built up trulli.  Other parts of the town we had walked through had the occasional trullo house popping out and we had even seen some on our drive around the area, but this was the most densely packed we had seen them.  It didn't seem entirely real.  Everything had very clearly been built up and restored for the benefit of tourists and visitors, but there was still a strange and almost "magical" feel to it.  That words seems odd to use, but rather than trying to convey some meaning of how beautiful it was (and it was), it had that feeling in a more literal sense.  The small pointed houses seemed to be something out of a fairy tale book, or from a fantasy movie, like a village for elves or fairies.

We walked across to the other side of the town into the densely packed trulli.  It was crowded with visitors.  Most of the trulli were occupied with little shops, restaurants or cafes.  Veronica went in looking at the various things on offer, finding lots of lovely locally woven fabrics (which seemed to be something this region was known for).  I went exploring further with baby Pickle.  He seemed to be amazed by the surroundings, with his head turning constantly to look at everything around us.  Veronica was still shopping, so Pickle and I found some nice buskers playing music.  I took Pickle out of the stroller and let him dance around to the music, to the delight of the buskers and those nearby.

We walked all the way to the very back of the built up area and found a big park for Pickle to run around in more.  He seemed to enjoy the wide open spaces to explore.  Part of the reason I had arranged this holiday was my hope that it would give him more opportunities to enjoy the outdoors more.  Pickle soon made friends with a local boy, who's family invited us to visit their nearby shop.  Walking over, the pressed the small local biscuits into his hand and his happily munched on them as Veronica and I tried some of the local drinks.