A pleasant surprise

The flight from Hong Kong to and from Taipei is always scheduled at almost two hours, but the reality is that the flight is normally only a little bit more than an hour.  I'm assuming the extra time is a built in buffer to provide for delays, but all my trips have always been incredibly fast, with the flight feeling like it's over before you've even really eaten.

As we stood at the counter to check in to our flight, the air stewardess smiled at me and told me that they had an upgrade for me to premium economy.  I looked at her, then looked at my family.  Was this just for me or was it for my wife and child as well?  She checked.  It was just for me.  No thank you I responded.  I would stay with my family.  She looked a bit confused, but continued on with checking us in. I didn't think much more of it.  We took our tickets and we made our way upstairs to security and immigration.

Veronica wanted to look at some more snacks before we went through so we were slightly delayed before we reached the line for security.  From the corner of my eye, I could see someone running to us.  Someone wearing the distinct red uniform of a Cathay stewardess.... 

Our stewardess was in a desperate rush to find us.  Her supervisor had spoken to her and instructed her to run and find us and we were all being upgraded to business!  I wasn't going to say no to that this time.  I had no idea why this sudden and unexpected boon was arranged for us.  I suspected that it was because they had already sold my economy seat and so needed to move me out of it one way or another. Whatever the reason, I wasn't complaining.

For such a short flight, I would never ever pay a dollar extra for any upgrade.  It simply wasn't worth it.  But now that we were here for free, I was going to enjoy it.  The food was better and so was the quality of alcohol.  Veronica has never been a huge fan of Taiwanese lu ruo fan, and yet somehow they managed to make one of the best she had ever eaten on this flight.

Traveling with Pickle during the day, this extra space was also great for us with Pickle.  We spread out and gave him lots of room to play.  I stood up and walked around, stretched my legs and went searching for snacks.  With the large area, Pickle seemed more than entertained with his toys and books.  In what seemed like the briefest of moments, the seatbelt lights came on again and the captain announced we were descending.

Boat party birthdays

Our friends were having a big birthday celebration on a boat out in Sai Kung.  We were happy to join them for the party.

A nice boat had been arranged and after a short trip we were all out next to some islands, enjoying the food, drinks and water.  I took Pickle in for a swim, but he seemed to be more interested in wandering around the boat itself. 

These days out on the water are a special part of living in Hong Kong.  I'm not one of those living here who ends up spending every possible weekend on the water, but when the opportunity is presented to me I'll usually try and take part.

With Pickle, there's now the added benefit of seeing him enjoy all these new experiences as well.  It's far removed from the simpler life I had growing up, but I'm happy that he gets to enjoy all these perks to the life we have.

Traveling with a toddler

The holiday was nearly over.  It was now time for the flights back home to Hong Kong.

With all our luggage, it didn't make sense to take the airport train from Termini station.  We just called a large cab and went direct to Fiumicino.  We had a late afternoon flight, so I was a bit worried about how this flight would be with Pickle.  Would he nap?  Would he sleep?  How would his schedule be through the flight and after?

I tried my best to tired him out the airport.  I took him running around the shops and we even found a small playground with other children.  One of the little girls playing seemed completely enamoured by Pickle.  She took him by the hand and kept hugging him.  It was cute to see.

The first flight went smoothly enough.  I was concerned about Pickle causing a fuss and disturbing the other passengers, but I was thankfully able to soothe him fairly quickly.  He refused to nap though and Veronica took over and was able to get him to sleep.

The flight was short and he woke as we were arriving in Doha.  We went to clean up and get some food.  We were feeling a bit dazed.  It was evening for us, but it was the middle of the day for those around us.  We were also getting ready to arrive back in Hong Kong early in the morning, so everything was feeling very off kilter.  Pickle wandered around, drawing the attention of all the wait stuff who thought he was both hilarious and cute.  

As we left to head to the plane, Veronica put him back in the carrier and we walked to the elevator.  Just before, Veronica wandered over to a counter to grab some more things before we joined the crowd in the elevator.  Standing in the elevator, I looked at Pickle and was shocked to see he was holding a pair of metal tongs in his hand.  I exclaimed in shock.  He looked at me in a very nonchalant manner.  Everyone in the elevator burst into laughter.  I grabbed the tongs off him and hurried back up to the lounge to return them to the staff.

The last flight was much tougher.  It was the "evening" flight back to Hong Kong and the plane was quickly darkened to let people sleep.  Pickle however didn't want to sleep.  I spent hours trying to calm him and to keep him occupied.  Veronica was exhausted and fell asleep for a while.  I kept struggling through, trying to keep up with the unstoppable energy of this small toddler, but it was always going to be a losing battle.  Eventually, Veronica woke up and took over.  She held him in her arms in a way that only a mother can, and he started to settle and sleep.  I felt dazed from the exertion.  The stewardess had been observing and offering to help me throughout.  She hurried over to see if I wanted anything.  All I wanted was a black coffee and a biscuit.  She quickly returned with a large cup of hot coffee and a large pile of biscuits for me.

Was the trip a success?  I thought so.  We had experienced a lot as a family and baby Pickle had developed in leaps and bounds.  It was fascinating and amazing to see him exploring the world and growing each day.  

Rome with different sights

I had arranged for us to end our trip in Rome.

No trip to Italy would be complete for us without some time in the Eternal City.

We were staying next to the Curia di Pompeo again.  The last time we had been in Rome, we had stayed around this area.  It had been our honeymoon, and we had enjoyed looking out over the ancient ruins from our room.  This time, we were on the other side of the ruins. Our view looked similar, but our situation was anything but.  We had replaced the previous luxury with more practical accommodation to provide for our larger traveling group.  There were no complaints from us at all.  The place we found was convenient and well staffed.  Everything was clean, modern and well maintained.  All at a far more palatable price as well.

The next few days were spent leisurely enjoying our favourite city with our new favourite small toddler.

He had been nothing short of a fantastic traveler on our holiday.  There had certainly been some more difficult moments and some times when he wasn't as happy or compliant, but it was all part of the experience.  Given his young age and the long travel, none of these were really anything major.  He seemed to have enjoyed himself as well.

For this final leg of the trip, we had managed to convince Phil to make a trip to Rome.  He had some other friends whom he wanted to visit as well so it was a good opportunity for him. It was now two years running we had Phil grace us with his presence whilst we were in Europe so it seemed like this was becoming a tradition for us.

Dinners, lunches and sightseeing.  All done at a comfortable and casual pace.

It seemed all too pleasant for us.  Pickle loved having the extra attention of Phil and others and they seemed to also relish the youthful energy he had.

As with other parts of Italy, the staff at the restaurants adored Pickle.  They were always kind to us, but there was something about his cheekiness that seemed to bring out an extra level of happiness in them.  

We wandered around to small cafes.  Small bakeries and other places for snacks.  Phil seemed very happy for us to lead the way and we introduced him to some of our favourite places and dishes through Rome.  One evening, after dinner Pickle fell fast asleep in his pram and so we were able to wander down to the Tiber Festival, enjoying some of the music and atmosphere as he slept.

On our last day together with Phil, we decided to do something none of us had done before.  We set out sights on the National Monument as something new for everyone to experience together.  In all my trips to Rome over the years, I had somehow managed to completely avoid visiting.  I had been in the vicinity multiple times.  On the other side of it is one of the best if not the best museums in all of Italy in the Capitoline Museum.  Yet, this monument, with all of its grandeur and impressive size had somehow remained off my list of things to do.  Strangely enough this was also the case for Veronica and Phil, so today would be the day we remedied this.

It was indeed very impressive.

This wasn't an old and ancient edifice, instead being something built by Mussolini in order to hark back to the days of Rome.  But that didn't take away from just how grand and imposing it was.  It had a size and majesty to it that almost overawed.  The style was of course classical Roman, but since it hadn't endured the centuries of weathering, it remained much shiner and more polished, which added to the splendour it seemed to project.

We reached what the top and considered leaving.  For those new to Rome looking for something to do, the view from the very top of the National Monument is probably worth the admission alone.  Due to the size and its position, it provides one of the best unobstructed full views of all of Rome.  From the top, you could see far off into the distance and identify all the other famous landmarks of this lovely old city.

After our time at the top, we considered leaving.  We were feeling a little bit tired with the heat of the day and the thought of carrying Pickle's stroller down and up various stairs didn't appeal to us.  We went down a few floors and looked up through the enormous columns.  Our tickets gave us access to this higher floor.  Why not.  We were here.  It was thankfully the right decision and we found ourselves once again up in a part of the monument that few seemed to visit.  It was all a recreation of something older, but I did wonder whether this would have been a feeling and a type of view that would have been looked up by more ancient Romans many years ago.

For our last activity with Phil before he headed off to the airport, we decided to spend some time at Villa Borghese.  We weren't going to the villa itself, but instead to the lovely lush parks and gardens surrounding the villa.

We found ourselves a park bench, and pulled out a large box of peaches.  I took them over to one of the public drinking fountains and washed them off in the cool icy water.  We sat and chatted, resting and enjoying the mid afternoon.  Pickle walked around with a peach in his hand, biting into the sweet fruit as he looked eagerly at the bigger kids nearby playing football.  The gestured to him to join and he was soon squealing loudly as he joined their games.

Us adults sat by and watched.  We were content and happy in the shade, eating our own peaches.  It was an almost indescribable feeling being there.  To enjoy such a simple and relaxing respite that was so full of joy.  To be with the people I cared for.  Some I had known since childhood and others whom I met more recently. To be in this city, a place I truly loved.  

A modern ancient city

So the last stop on our visit in Puglia wasn't actually in Puglia.  Instead, it's actually situated in the neighbouring Basilicata region.  With its close proximity to Bari, it had become a generally accepted part of most tours through Puglia and so we decided to also link this into our own trip.  We had parked our car in the convenient and modern parking garage just on the edge of the old town.  Our accommodation had helpfully arranged for a porter to come help us with our bags.  We weren't staying too long, but it still didn't seem the best to leave any bags in the car of the next few days.  Looking at the maps, I had initially thought that I could just do it all myself over a couple of trips.  Our hotel had strongly recommended we use the porter service and so instead we waited at the parking garage for the driver to arrive.  The man who arrived seemed friendly and kind.  He quickly took our bags, then offered to take all our other smaller bags.  I noted that I had only paid for the two large bags, but he smiled as he waved me off and insisted that it was fine.  Once he set off, we started our own walk towards the hotel.  My previous thoughts on moving the luggage had clearly been naive thinking.  The sheer number of stairs and uneven cobblestoned steps we had to traverse to get to the hotel was an undertaking for us without the luggage.  Trying to navigate everything with our luggage may not have been impossible, but it would have likely left me exhausted and unable to do much for a while.

We had arranged to stay in the middle of the "Sassi" of Matera, the famous old town that had been built up over many millennia into the hills and rocks of the town. On our very first night, we were quickly impressed by the dramatic beauty of this town.  Around each corner, the views seemed out of scenes from cinema (which was the case given the huge number of films set in this town).  Compared to many of the other Italian towns we had visited, there was a lack of colour to our surrounding.  It sapped the joy out of the place, but replaced it with a brooding and antique feel.  The contrast was not in the colour, but was instead in the shades and the light.  

Every step we took through the winding, narrow and hilly streets felt like a journey through history and the past.  With everything looking so washed out and faded, it made our wanderings feel extra special.  Everything just felt so old and ancient around us.  It was like it looked so faded out because it was just so old and untouched.  Surely all of this had been here as it was for centuries, developing this look through the brutal passage of time?

It was all of course thoroughly modernised and cleaned up, but it "felt" real.  More so than many of the other places we had visited.  That didn't change the fact that this was in a way a bit of a ancient theme park.  It had the long history for certain, but everything had been built up and renovated to look a certain way.  We walked past more than enough places being renovated and reconstructed during our explorations to confirm this.

We kept exploring the town more.  The more we learnt, the more depressing it became.  This town had at one point relatively recently been considered to be the "shame of Italy" due to the poverty and conditions of its residents.  There were museums dotted around the Sassi which recreated how the local population lived historically.  It was a spartan lifestyle in harsh conditions.  What didn't seem to be as well advertised though was that after those local residents were relocated out of the town, much of the town was then subsequently bought up by outsiders who then took full advantage of the cheap prices and redeveloped it into the fancy and high end tourist destination it now was.  So even with the improvement in the town's fortunes, it still wasn't the original inhabitants who benefited.

Being out of Puglia, we also got to experience a whole different type of cuisine.  After the lovely fresh and light food of Puglia, full of seafood and the bright seasonal vegetables, what we had in Matera was a stark contrast.  It was heavy and rich food.  There were slow cooked stews, aged cheeses and dense breads. It was good.  But it was just in such a sharp contrast to what we had been eating.  With the warm days, it also didn't exactly match up with what we were feeling.  Still, I was happy to enjoy this new cuisine.  There was plenty of lamb options for me which seemed to be a local specialty.

I was glad to have visited Matera, but I wasn't so sure I would be back.  It was an undeniably beautiful place, and there were many times which I felt truly awestruck as I walked its street.  However, the days I had spent in the town felt enough.  There were only so many streets I could explore, only so many viewpoints I could clamber too before it began to feel slightly repetitive. 

 In our hotel, we met a lovely Argentinian couple who had been in Matera for a few days.  The man gently enquired what I thought of Matera.  I responded bluntly that I liked it, but that two days was enough for me.  He seemed incredibly relieved with my response and started to confess to me how bored he was feeling.  They had already been in Matera for three days and he had run out of things to do.  He didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he explained they were arranging to go to a nearby beach just for a change.  I understood exactly where he came from.  This town was an incredible place to experience, but it was still quite a small place and there were limits to how long it could hold the attention.

Life at the masseria

When we decided to go to Puglia for our holiday, I started to ask for the views and recommendations of friends and colleagues who had visited or knew the area.  One recommendation that came up frequently, particularly amongst the Italian natives was to include a masseria visit in our trip.  This idea intrigued me and I immediately started looking into the possibility.  On many of my previous trips to Italy, I had driven past "agriturismo" properties and had wanted to one day stay in one.  In Italy, the agriturismos are an important part of the rural economy, offering farm stays and an opportunity at living in the quieter parts of the country.  The masserias were a type of agriturismo found in Puglia.  From what I could gather, the masserias were usually more upmarket and often had an even stronger focus on the food.  

The days we had spent at the masseria had been as relaxing and fulfilling as I had envisaged.  When we weren't off on day trips or visits to the different places in the surrounding region, we were able to spend our time at the nearby beach or on the grounds of the masseria itself.  One of the selling points of this particular masseria was its close proximity to the nearby beach, with its own private path leading there.  It was only about 150m so it was an enjoyable walk for us with baby Pickle in tow.  Veronica carried Pickle as I carried all our bags and the umbrella we had bought at the supermarket in Monopoli.

The beach wasn't private, but given it was a bit further away from the larger centres it was calmer and far less busy.  There were still nearby places to buy food and drink, but we were able to set ourselves up without disturbance and with lots of space for baby Pickle to enjoy himself.  The water was comfortably cool and clear.  The sand was fine and it all felt close to idyllic.  I had taken baby Pickle swimming in the ocean before, but he seemed to enjoy these experiences more.  As each small wave would come, I would dip him in and out to his delight.

We repeated this pattern a few times.  With the beach so close, it was easy.  There didn't need to be a big migration and from a car.  There didn't need to big huge amounts packed and prepared.  Once we were done, we were able to just wander back to masseria to shower and clean up.

When we weren't at the beach, we were able to enjoy the grounds and facilities of the masseria itself.  A large part of the culture of the masserias is the connection to the land and to farming.  Next to the main and more elegantly maintained parts of the masseria, there was the active farm.  Wheat fields spread out behind us which gave us beautiful scenery as we walked along with the uniquely calming sounds of the rustling sheaves as the winds blew across them.

On the rest of the farm, there were rows and rows of vegetables.  Pickle ran up and down the rows, looking with curiosity at the machinery and farmer's tool.  He chased butterflies and seemed completely amazed at all the colours around him.

Inside the main and enclosed grounds of the masseria were orchards and fruit trees.  Everything was very well maintained and manicured.  The gardens were picturesque and even more quiet than outside.  With a nice mat, we spent afternoons under the trees.  We lay about in the cool breeze, eating fruits and biscuits as Pickle continued his exploration of everything.

The lemon trees were heavy with fruit, but we weren't so interested.  In the middle of the gardens, there were pear trees and a large mulberry tree.  These were also full and heavy with fruit and far more appetising to us.  I held baby Pickle up and taught him to choose and take the best of the fruit straight from the tree, but only what we would eat ourselves.  It was incredible to be able to introduce this all to him.  To teach him how to connect more with nature, to understand where our food comes from and for him to enjoy the beauty of it all.

Veronica and I would laze about as he wandered and stumbled around the garden, fruit in hand as he explored his surrounds all whilst chewing into the various fruits he had.  

When we weren't in the garden or in the ocean, we were next to the pool.  Everything in the masseria had been wonderful, but the opulence of this pool was beyond anything we expected.  The tiles were all constantly cool to the touch even during the heat of the day (they must have been using the type of tiles that Chris and I had learnt about when we were in Bali) and the water was salted and not chlorinated.  

What all the masserias promoted the most though was the food.  Each one always highlighted the local specialties they prepared and the quality of the ingredients and dishes they would have on offer.  Each morning, we saw this on display.  There was a huge variety of fresh fruits and local produce for us to try.  The cheeses and the pastries in particular were far more varied than at any place I had ever been.  Speaking with the staff, they explained to me that all their baked goods were actually prepared on premises, which amazed me even more given the volume they always had on offer.

At night, the masseria also offered a dinner service.  With all the places in the area we wanted to visit, we only partook in this once, but we were unsurprised by the quality.  Before we even started, they offered to make us a dish specifically for Pickle.  We happily agreed to this and there was a lovingly made little pasta dish quickly prepared for him which he slurpt away at.  For us, our fare was more refined and Veronica would later declare the monkfish stew to be her favourite dish of the entire trip.

I felt incredibly blessed and fortunate.  For everything.  For all we were able to experience.  For each moment we had been here.  In my mind's eye, I had pictured vividly what my ideal holiday here would look like.  I had wanted an Italian country escape.  Something that would give us as a family the time to be together, but also the opportunity for baby Pickle to explore everything around him.
 

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.