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.

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.

The most expensive meal ever

On our first day in Puglia, we didn't do too much.  We were still slowly getting over the travel and the events of the previous evening so we decided to take a more relaxed approach to the day.  We walked around the town, explored the small streets and the coastal walk.  We drank coffees, enjoyed a lovely lunch and just embraced the beauty of the region.  We had been excited by the brief exploration of the previous evening and our walk through the town only seemed to reinforce that Monopoli was a lovely place for us to be spending the next few days.

For the evening of the first "real" day we were in Puglia, I had arranged for a nice and fancy dinner for myself and Veronica.  The hotel had a babysitting service available so I decided this would be a good opportunity for just the two of us to spend some time together.  The hotel was family owned and operated, so all the care and service we received was similarly a family affair.  The babysitter they arranged for us was the girlfriend of the owner's son, and they ended up babysitting baby Pickle in the home of the hotel owner as well.  It gave Veronica and myself added comfort knowing that he would be well looked after whilst we had our dinner.  After some initial anger about us leaving, baby Pickle seemed to become happier with his situation, no doubt happy with the pretty Italian girl who was looking after him.

For Veronica and myself, we headed one town over to Polignano a Mare.  Within this part of Puglia, it is probably the most famous town.  The town itself doesn't seem that big, but its renowned for its small beach with the bridge behind it as a backdrop.    

It was a picturesque beach.  Made all the more beautiful by its narrowness and the surrounding cliffs and buildings.  The beach itself didn't look that great as we stood on the famous bridge behind as we took some photos.  We walked through the town.  It was a pretty town, but it was incredibly busy.  It didn't have the same charm that Monopoli had and instead it felt crowded with day trippers and the tourist shops you would expect at most mass tourism locations.

The main reason we were here was for dinner.  It wasn't just any dinner.  I had arranged for us to dine at the most famous restaurant in the entire region, Grotta Palazzese.  It may be one of the most famous restaurants in the world based on social media posts.  Set inside of a cave in the side of the cliffs that opened out towards the sea, it was certainly one of the visually impressive places I had ever visited, let alone eaten at.

Veronica had dressed for the location, and decided that a mermaid theme was the best option given the surroundings.  It was certainly the ideal attire for the location.  With the restaurant and the hotel built into the grotto and the cliff, you could feel the deep connection with the sea.  We had arrived early and so we were able to get one of the tables that were closer to the water.  For those who arrived later, they would need to sit far further inside the cave.  With the price of dinner, I would have been furious with myself if had we been stuck at a table deep inside the cave.  For me, the point of this restaurant was to experience that interconnection between the ocean and the cliffs.  That didn't seem possible deep inside the cave. 

The gathered crowd was an interesting assortment of groups.  There were the couples having their romantic dinners.  Families enjoying their time together.  The occasional groups of friends.  It was an odd gathering of different people and the entire atmosphere was strangely subdued.  Veronica and I were having a great time.  I had long given up trying to be more civil in this place, and Veronica and I decided to take as many photos as we possibly could.  Those around us didn't seem to share our excitement.  Maybe the cost of the dinner had shocked the excitement out of most of them?  Many of the couples seemed to follow the same pattern.  A starry eyed wife/girlfriend looking around in wonder, with a less than impressed husband/boyfriend looking on with less enthusiasm.

As the food began to arrive, it was our turn to be less than impressed.

The prices they were charging were incredible, shocking even.  They were clearly very aware of the appeal of the location and they were (rightfully) going to charge anyone and everyone for the pleasure of being in the restaurant.  Even entering, they were strict.  The door at the street had the staff diligently guarding and checking the reservations.  There would be no simple "pop ins" to have a quick look at the view.

Each course that came could be described with a single word "mediocre".  It wasn't bad, but it was very ordinary for the price.  Everything felt like it had come off of a factory production line.  Even the service was abrupt and cold.  Again, it wasn't "bad".  They were professional, they were prompt and they knew what they were doing.  But they certainly weren't interested in building any rapport or relationship with the guests.  They themselves would have known that this meal would likely be a one-off for almost all of the guests and maybe that impacted their behaviour as well.

  

As mediocre as the food was, there was plenty of it.  The restaurant seemed to have decided that if the food quality wasn't going to be amazing, they would at the very least ensure that no one was to leave hungry.  Every course came with bread and was generally very carb heavy.  It was a small decision for them, but I did appreciate that they seemed to still have some thought for the guest experience.

  

We had arrived at about 6pm.  Early enough that it was still light when we were seated.  I had wanted to experience this restaurant and see the views during both the day and night.  As the dinner progressed, the sun began to set and the entire feel and ambiance of the restaurant changed.  Everything became more intimate.  The lights inside the restaurant shone brighter and there was a lovely glow of the lights off of the cliffs.  From the inside looking out, the dark sky made the cave feel less exposed and more like we were inside a large room.

Standing up on the walkways to the side and looking back into the restaurant, the restaurant looked like a little diorama perched into the cliff.  Contrasted at all sides by the darkness, it shone out as though it had been crafted and placed into the rock. 

Our long dinner was at an end.  We were tired and wanted to go back to see baby Pickle, so we paid and slowly made our way up the stairs to leave.  The way up definitely felt much higher than the way down.  Before we left Poligano a Mare, we went back to the famous beach one last time to have a look.  The crowds were now gone.  The town was busy, but the bridge and the beach were now quiet.

It was a nice evening.  It was also the most expensive meal I had ever paid for on a per person basis.  It was an outrageously expensive cost to pay for what was very mediocre food and service.  I decided that I couldn't think like that though if I was to maintain any appreciation for what we had experienced.  I thought back to the words of wisdom from Rick Steves about such travel experiences.  I shouldn't think about the cost as being for the food.  Instead the cost was for the pleasure of spending a lovely evening in the beautiful location, the food was just an added bonus. 

The difficult final leg

The final leg of the journey had been painful.  We arrived at the airport in Bari and everything seemed fine.  All of this started to change when we went to the car rental agency.  The car they had for us was slightly smaller than what we were expecting.  It was still a mid sized car, so we thought it would be fine. There was nothing larger in any event, so it would have to do.  Next we struggled with our luggage to the car park.  After several bag falls and trolley jams, we arrived at the car.  Here was where the true pain started.  Everything seemed fine until my attempts to load our luggage into the car.

It didn't fit.

I felt a wave of panic.  What was I going to do.  We didn't have "that" much luggage.  We had two large bags, a couple of hand carry bags and a baby bag.  What made it all difficult was the baby seat we had to include as part of the rental and the stroller.  Together, it still didn't seem that much, but it was just slightly too much from every attempt I tried to load the car.  Every change I attempted resulted in the same outcome, being off by only inches.

It was at this point, that baby decided that he had completely had enough.  It had been tough and tiring traveling for him.  He had been an incredible traveler up until this point, but now it was all too much.  The scream crying started in earnest.  I stood in front of the car, my brain melting as I tried to think through how to deal with the situation all as baby Pickle screamed.  I couldn't abandon anything?  I couldn't carry anything on my lap as I drove.  I was at a complete loss.  I stood aside for a moment as Veronica tried to soothe the inconsolable baby.  I wanted to help her more, but I desperately needed to find a solution to our luggage problem.  I only had one idea left.  I stepped back to the car and pushed the passenger seat forward as far as I could.  It seemed too big, but I tried to slide the folded up stroller between the backseat and the passenger seat and by the thinnest of margins it managed with some pushing to slide in.  It was a solution.  It wasn't a great solution.  But it was good enough.  I quickly loaded in everything else as best and as quickly as I could.  This probably wasn't the best approach, but it would do for now.  I got Veronica into the car and then we started off towards our final stop of Monopoli.  The trip was still a 40 minute drive, and the poor baby cried loudly for most of that time.

When we arrived in Monopoli, my heart sank again as the parking on street after street seemed completely full.  Baby Pickle had fallen asleep, exhausted from the crying and the stress of this car trip.  We had all the luggage to take out and carry up to the hotel, so I decided to get as close as possible and to try to stop temporarily to unload everything, move it up to the hotel and then go and find a parking spot.  As I approached what I thought was the hotel, our luck turned in our favour.  The side of the street right next to the hotel was miraculously empty of cars.  There would be no need to drive around searching for a space and instead we were able to move everything upstairs with relative ease.  Once upstairs, we all collapsed for a moment.  The exhaustion of the trip hitting us.  Baby Pickle was up and happy again.  Wandering around the room, exploring all the new surroundings.  We all showered and cleaned ourselves up.  The stress of the trip was now gone and replaced with an excitement for the start of our holiday.  It was late, but we were hungry and there was nothing stopping us from going out to explore the town.  

We prepared a bag for baby Pickle and we set off with the stroller towards the old town.  After only a short walk, I was already happy.  Monopoli was a lively town.  It had all the warmth and happiness you would hope for in an Italian town.  There were smiles everywhere, the restaurants were full and children were running around.  We found a nice looking restaurant.  The staff were kind and ushered us in without concern about how late it was.  They found us a secluded area away from the some of the other diners so we could dine in peace with the baby.  With the food promptly brought to us and lovely wine being recommended by the waiter, all the difficulties of the last few hours melted away.

A "first" trip to Italy

Being a new family had meant many firsts.  First laugh, first words, first steps, first visits, first holidays.

Some of these things had happened far earlier than for most others.  We had decided to continue with as much travel as was reasonable with the baby, and it had all generally been great.  There had been some parts which were tougher and there was certainly a change from what we had been previously used to.  But it had all still be rewarding both for ourselves and also for the baby.

With all of these positive experiences, we decided that we would try for another first.  It wouldn't be baby's first long haul travel, but it would be his first trip to Italy.

We arrived at the airport late in the evening.  To try and maximise baby's chances of sleeping, we had booked a flight for the early hours of the morning.  We did our best to use up his energy, letting him wander and explore the airport before boarding.  The hours ticked by and eventually it was our time to board.  One of the great benefits of traveling with the baby has been the lack of any lining up.  Be it for the flight, immigration or security, the moment they see the stroller we either get waved through or sent to a dedicated fast line.  It's been one of the great joys of traveling with baby and I'm going to miss it when he gets older.

Our efforts with the baby were not in vain, and shortly after takeoff he was fast asleep.  He took up most of my seat, but that was fine by me.  For him to be well rested was all that mattered and it would hopefully mean a more relaxed and calm journey for everyone.  As the lights in the cabin dimmed, I took the opportunity to slip one of the complimentary eye masks over his head to keep any stray lights from waking him up.

We were flying with Qatar Airways again, so instead of a direct flight to Italy, we had a stop over in Doha.  It was a pleasant break for us that gave us an chance to recoup before the final short leg to Rome.  Our arrival early in the morning was something new for us. We normally arrived in Doha when it was pitch black, so it was lovely to see the sun rising over the sparse and beautiful desert.

During our stay in Hamad International Airport, we cleaned up the baby, had some food and took advantage of all the facilities for children.

Our final leg was once again fairly calm and stress free.  There was far more walking around and far less sleeping this time, but that was fine.  So long as there wasn't any screaming or crying, it was all quite manageable.  Baby took the time to pace up and down the aisles, waving and saying a bright "hi!" to anyone who would look at him.  I was worried he would be disturbing other passengers, but everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and the distraction from the flight he provided.  Some passengers were overtly friendly, trying to talk and engage with him.  It was all lovely and he seemed to have a great time.

After only a little more than 5 hours, we were in Rome.  But this wasn't the end of the travel.

We had decided to go to Puglia for this holiday.  Instead of breaking up the travel.  I made the decision to white knuckle it and do it all in one hit.  So at Rome airport, we collected our luggage and moved over to the next terminal.  There, we waited our last short flight to Bari.

Everything had gone well so far.