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.