Arrivederci Roma

Can you love a place to death?   I return to Rome for my last day and find the streets crowded, filthy, trash cans overflowing. But she still has a proud beauty amid the clamour and crud, a way of getting to you as you turn a corner and smell a bit of jasmine on the breeze. Turn off any main street to find a quiet vicolo to stroll.  Outdoor cafès filled with laughing people beckon. With June practically here, you can feel the temperature and humidity rising and the crowds closing in. Good time to head home.

This is a country faced with almost insurmountable challenges but somehow with a boundless optimism flavored with a bit of cynicism.   But seeing how civilization after civilization grew, crashed, overcame obstacles and thrived, I don’t think would take a bet against these people finding a way back into the light.

Last day in Monopoli

Spent my last day wandering a bit in this seaside town … quiet in a way but also lively with local citizens gearing up for the summer season. There is a lot to recommend here between the fun outdoor spaces, good food (especially for you seafood fans), beautiful scenery. Visited the local castle of Carlos V, a Spanish king … one of her many conquerors. 

Off to Rome today for my last day on the ground before the long slog home.

Toes in the Adriatic

On the road today, we wanted to dip our toes in the sea so found a lovely spot near a tiny castle on the Marina di Ostuni coast. The water was warm and so inviting. A small family was setting up an umbrella to enjoy a swim and picnic lunch.  So quiet, soft sand and bright turquoise water.

The beaches are really beautiful all along this part of the region; lots of wide open spaces dotted occasionally with little castles and stone watchtowers reminding us of the near constant invasion of this besieged country.

How old???!!

We had a unique opportunity today to visit an olive oil masseria, a farm that tends and presses olive oil from trees over two thousand years old.  And we met “L’elefante”, a three thousand year old tree.  Much of this grove in the Masseria Brancati was planted by the Romans over two thousand years ago and is still producing oil today. The trees are massive, twisted trunks in impeccable rows nourished by the red soil of Ostuni.

We toured the groves then into the earth to see the original olive presses … first by the Messipians, the original citizens who arrived here from Greece in 900BC (around the same time as the Etruscans in Toscana), then by the Romans, and each successive civilization with their attendant technological improvements until the modern era.  We touched a three thousand and year old olive tree.  I still cannot wrap my mind around that.

Then on to La Città Bianca, the White City of Ostuni. Sitting high above the valley it is a winding maze of streets with a view of thousands of olive groves extending to the sea. A miracle of placement and beauty.  We sat sipping prosecco on a perfectly balmy evening watching the sunset and marveling at our good fortune.

On the sea

 Visiting Polignano a Mare yesterday, I was struck by many things. Arriving by train and walking to the historical center, you are often walking through a dreary town with people hanging around looking bored.  Or smoking, waiting for nothing.  It is very poor here and the lack of employment is evident except for the tourist areas.

We met a young shopgirl a few days ago who told us her story … born here in Bari and went to London for school and work.  For some reason she had to return and said it was the biggest mistake of her life.  That her goal is to get out of here.  It is a nice place to vacation, she told us but not a place to live.

Polignano a Mare is a tiny town set on cliffs above the sea, the erosion caused by waves cutting the earth from beneath homes and buildings. Very dramatic setting and beautiful with the bright turquoise water sparkling as far as you can see.

Road trip

Hit three new spots today: Locorotondo, Martina Franca and Alberobello. They are fairly close together, but on the road for quite a bit of the day. Locorotondo is a lovely, intimate city that is indeed round, sitting on a hill overlooking the Itria valley. It is white and so well cared for; you really feel a pride of place when walking through the tiny streets.

Then off to Martina Franca … not as charming, getting back to the Baroque style. Lunch on a piazza in a very quiet downtown.  This whole region really shuts up tight in the afternoon.

Then to see the trulli in Alberobello. They are funny little conical houses and the centro is just a neighborhood of hundreds of them.  It is hard to imagine regular people living regular lives in these odd structures.

Monopoli

We have returned to a bit of reality in this beach town along the Adriatic. It is gearing up for the summer influx of visitors. Our tiny alley reverberates with sounds from the neighborhood … people walking and talking, kids kicking a ball, kitchen clanking. As with many other places, it closes tight from around one to five in the afternoon. Then it comes alive again with passaggiata and shops opening.

The historical part of town starts here at Porta Vecchia and circles around the port to what is left of the castle and wall that once protected this wide and gentle harbor. Now the rip rap provides an ideal spot for sunning and diving into the cool, blue water of the Adriatic.

Moments in Matera

The light in this town changes from moment to moment, transforming it from an impossible stack of stone houses to a fairytale of light and shadow. Hundreds of hawk nesting boxes have been installed to encourage the local raptor to raise families here as they have for many generations.  Seems the bird favors snacking a particular cricket that is deadly to the grain crop.

At dawn and dusk, the tiny rondine (starlings) swoop and call, catching bugs and generally goofing around.  And a particular walk up behind the Piazza Sedile will reward you with musicians practicing in the music school; soft tones of violin and piano gives a sense of the longevity of this city.

The local residents all seem to understand and appreciate the historical value (a UNESCO site) as well as the fragility of her resurgence. When you see the condition of the cave dwellings from as little as fifty years ago to the immaculate city of today, it is a marvel of collective will and effort.

On the road

Leaving Matera (regretfully) we stopped at a park across the ravine to look back at this remarkable city.  I am trying to get some photos uploaded as there are no words I can use to describe the last two days. It is strange and beautiful and completely memorable.  I am certain to return for further exploration.

A quick stop in Altamura for lunch and a walk through the old city from ancient wall to ancient wall. Then on to our next landing pad at Monopoli where our loose directions had me driving into the old center, getting stuck in a one-way street, and various circles of hell before we were able to secure the car and walk our luggage (ever augmented) into our apartment.  Then up three flights.  Then another flight. Exhausting and exhilarating as ever.

Changing eons

Matera.  This old city is easily the most unique I’ve ever experienced. 

We walked with an experienced local guide today to learn more starting with the caves where people lived until the mid-1950s.  The abysmal conditions are heartbreaking to consider – no water, plumbing or sewer system.  No electricity.  Not unusual to have ten or more people living in one room.  With the family mule, chickens and pigs. It was called “The National Shame”; those of us who have read “Cristo si è fermato ad Eboli” will certainly recognize the story.  But to see the cave dwellings first hand is beyond description.  The last of the citizens were relocated out of the caves in 1953 into housing in the main town.

It is literally carved into rock. Houses, churches, shops all carved from the soft tufo stone left behind when the sea receded. You can still see tiny holes where mollusks were buried in the seabed. There are hundreds of stairs up and down, winding through streets and passageways forming two distinct neighborhoods called “sassi”. The edge of the town drops off into a massive ravine on two sides (la gravina). The old part of town has limited traffic, so it is easy to imagine what it must have been like in ancient times.  There is a stark and ferocious beauty of the scenery.  

Changing regions

Arriving in Basilicata, the next stop is Matera.  This is reported to be the oldest, continuously inhabited city in Europe.  It is perched high on the mountains between Puglia and Basilicata. The outskirts seem much like many others with modern, block construction. But the ancient city is nothing like I have ever seen before.

Crossing regions

Departing charming Lecce, we stopped first in Manduria for a walkabout and lunch. Interesting little town … the seat of Primitivo wine culture. You can see the miles of olive groves turn into miles of grape vines as we proceed west. A surprising little trattoria with a hand written menu and a perfect local vino from the local producer.  Then on to Grottaglie, the local home of the ceramics industry.  There we met Franco, the eighteenth generation of ceramics artists and a charming gentleman.

From an Italian kitchen

Our lovely hosts invited us to dinner with them in their elegant apartment below, Elisabetta, her husband and two children.  We cooked with her and prepared an extravagant meal. She was generous and delightful to get to know with her hard-nosed Tuscan attitude. Learned a lot about the region and Italian life.

Remodel from hell

Imagine trying to replace an old water pipe under the floor and finding remnants of a structure from a few thousand years ago. The local archeological museum has been transformed from a private home when such a thing happened here.  From the foundation, structure and material remnants, lives of the ancient people have been reconstructed in a fascinating display.

Road trip

A day trip to the port city of Brindisi reminds us both of the power of the ancient culture as well as the devastation the economy as brought to the community.  But the harbor is a lovely place with wide, open walking boulevards and a few restaurants on the water.  The castle still sits in place guarding the vulnerable entrance to the city.

Between here and there on the train, we passed miles of olive groves with trees so large they looked more like old walnut trees.  Will get a chance to see them up close and personal next week.

Cartapesta

The local craft here is a proud tradition of paper machè, enjoying a resurgence recently with classes taught to locals and visitors.  Just a few doors down from the apartment is a lovely artist who produces small statues and flowers from this ancient art.  

 It was begun centuries ago as a way to create religious figures for the church without the expense of carving wood. A few of the churches still display their large paper figures in the shapes of angels and saints.

Be right back

On the other hand, this part of the country closes up between 1pm and 5-ish just like the old days. Metal grates come down and shutters close. You can often follow the delicious waft of something cooking from down an alley. A street that had wares displayed and shoppers mingling are now nowhere to be found.

Late night in Lecce

I am amazed how many people are out and about well past midnight. Young people wandering, families at the café, theatre letting out. A few cars but mostly groups and pairs of people walking through these quiet and small streets.

On the road

Traveled to Gallipoli to find a bit of sunshine and water.  And found it! Although it was cool and breezy, the tiny towns we visited were charming once we left the main tourist points. 

Driving through these roads is interesting … there are massive, ancient olive trees as far as the eye can see. And some sad, mean little towns along the way. But then the horizon opens and the clear, blue sea spreads out in front of the silvery grey of the olive leaves.

Night walking

After a long day of exploring our new home, we had a lovely long walk before and after dinner deep into the night.  Marcia’s little step-counting device said we put over eight miles on our shoes.  Really? There are so many tiny details to see (and kitties) that the time and steps fly by.

A sea of white

The word of the day is barocco – the baroque style of architecture that permeates this whole area. Most of the buildings are constructed of the local limestone, a soft lemony-white confection … a chiarezza, a clarity of color and sense of lightness. It is fairly easy to wander without seeing many people in parts of this city.

We got a better sense of the city today walking side to side.  Not a big place, but a myriad of tiny streets and piazze.

Met a charming architect, Henri from Belgium who recently gave up his life to move to this city … his fantasy for many years.  How courageous to give up everything to follow the dream. He gave us good tips for what to see and do during our week here in the Salento.

Back story

Took a walking tour yesterday in the grey day, listening to the history of the town and area. Lots of factoids but I was caught up in looking at the architecture and watching the people.  Not a typical touristy town, although certainly in attendance. Mostly individuals or small groups wandering.  Lots of local schoolkids in groups learning about the symbolism of the gargoyles that hang from the churches.

 And a quick visit to a café that was built over the top of ancient baths used in the Jewish tradition … a glass floor lets you see the excavation and gives a sense of floating over the formation.

Finally a trip to the winery of Feudi to wander the vineyard and sample some of their excellent wines.  Charming Sandro gave us a good feel for the area, the ferocious loyalty to the Salento and a lesson on local politics.  Molto interessante.

Arriviamo a Lecce

After a short departure gate delay and a bit of confusion  at the rental car counter, off into the streets of Puglia. Where the real fun starts.  Chaotic is the best you can say.  The GPS says turn left, but there is no street … just somebody’s driveway.  Until they bring you around again and you realize that driveway is an actual street.  And it gets more narrow by the inch.  Is it possible a car can really fit in there?  But we do, by sheer will and exhaustion.  And arrive in a piccolo pezzo di paradiso.

Elisabetta, an ex-Toscana is a bubbly, enthusiastic hostess who makes everything from scratch.  The fruits are from her family farm, the limoncello and olive oil hand squeezed.  Our morning repast is baked to order. As my sister would note,  I could marry this girl!

Took a short walk from our apartment to the nearest piazza for a welcome prosecco and then to the recommended trattoria for our 10pm dinner.  Which was beyond belief.  The cuisine here (more to come) is called “cucina povera” … the poor kitchen noting that what you eat is available from the nearby farms.  In Marin, it is so chi-chi, but here it’s what people do when they aren’t Bill Gates. Boiled chicory and fava bean puree. Hand made pasta with ceci. How can such simple fare taste so good!?

I am either really tired or I just landed in butter.  More to come after a good night’s sleep.

Random thoughts from a train

The express train from the airport to the main train station passes some pretty ugly scenery. Broken fences, abandoned buildings held upright by layers of spray paint, trash, old couches, wild foliage. But now and then you pass by a luxurious garden filled with fruit trees and vegetable patches being tended for probably hundreds of years.

What a difference half a day makes

Not that I am a big fan of text slang, but OMG. What a chaotic mess out there today.  Had to run a few errands before departure and I guess everyone else in the city had the same idea. The slow, casual passaggiata that we know and love is taken to the extreme along some streets. The trick is to negotiate around the craziness without going too far afield. And the cool morning gave way to a sticky, hot afternoon. Summer here must be brutal. Heading out tomorrow for cool ocean breezes.  Arrivederci Roma.

Sleepless in Roma

It seems pointless to waste a perfectly good inability to sleep, so let’s get up at dawn and walk the deserted streets.  Out by 6am just as the sun was coming up on a day that alternates between bright blue skies and dense overcast.  Rumours of rain and the grey clouds threaten.

The sun rises slowly over Rome, hitting first the tallest church domes and towers, sliding down the stone faces of statue and building. Then you can feel it on your back as you walk the impossibly empty boulevards. These streets that within a few hours will be virtually impassable can be sauntered across with ease.            

On Sunday the bells start early from every direction, talking in unison and at odds as each one goes off with its own tone and clamour.  It is hard to imagine how many churches are within earshot and each one boasting a campanile with something to say.

I don’t know if there was a sale on jasmine plants, but they are everywhere! The air is dense with their fragrance and this early there is no bus exhaust to compete.  

I made it past the Colosseo, through Piazza Navona and the Campo to the river and back, stopping for a piccolo cappuccino. The streets that were empty are now filled with cars and buses, the cafès filled with people. What a magical thing to see before she has to endure another day of chaos.