Hobbit town…

From Otranto we head north again and decide to start the day with a quick dip at Sant’Andrea’s famous grotto. The coastline in this area is scattered with incredible rock formations and the water is crystal clear and blue.

We negotiate the rock staircase and jump in…we are old hands at cliff jumping now!

We then head away from the aquamarine waters of the Mediterranean and the cute little seaside towns, to a stunning green expanse of countryside known as Valle d’Itria. Dotted with iconic whitewashed trulli and abundant olive groves, its narrow winding lanes lead from one pretty village to the next.

We make a stop at the little town of Locorotondo…a name that flows from our lips in the most wonderful of ways, and a delightful place deserving of the acolade ‘Borghi più belli d’Italia’ (one of the most beautiful villages in Italy). It is a labyrinth of whitewashed buildings; its quiet streets kept pristine by residents who decorate their balconies and staircases with pink geraniums. 

The most fabulous thing about it is the lack of attractions. This is a town to simply get lost in for a few hours…to wander the tiny streets of the old town…to sit in the sun and drink a glass of local wine…perhaps peruse one of the little boutiques or dine at one of the impossibly cute side street restaurants.

Or so we hoped as we were starving and it was 3.00pm. But this is a part of the world where the beating heart of community is set firmly in the past. This means long siestas, shops opening early in the morning and late afternoon (but not in between) and a true sense that however much of a rush you may be in, it really makes very little difference to those that live here. There was no restaurant open until 7.30 in the evening- so starving we would stay!

Being perched atop a big hill, Locorotondo is a fantastic place from which to survey the spectacular countryside around. As we wandered the small street that encircles its highest point, offering spectacular panoramic views, we came across a little vineyard offering tastings, right there on the street. Locorotondo’s sparkling white wine is famous in Italy, apparently available in many restaurants throughout the region of Puglia,and we purchased a bottle to be enjoyed at another time.

We continued on towards Alberobello- a tiny town I had stumbled upon online years ago…that I thought I would never actually see. Another dream come true. We arrived in town, driving down streets skinnier than models on a catwalk in our large beast until we could no longer move forward or backwards. The neighbours came out to see what was happening with these four crazy Australian women…. and the police were called. Once again in fits of laughter, we befriend the police people (who of course don’t speak English) who organise a very competent driver to manoeuvre our car out of its predicament and park it in an appropriate place. The police woman even asks for a photo with us and there are hugs all round as we go on our way.

Alberobello- the closest thing Ive found to being in some sort of fantasy or fairytale world…and you half expect to see a hobbit or the seven dwarves emerge onto the cobbled streets from these stubby homes of whitewashed walls and pointy roofs stacked with grey limestone. I couldn’t contain my excitement walking through the streets and into the little houses including our traditional trulli bnb with its conical roof and stone walls.

I go out briefly on reconnaissance and to take some photographs…and find the Belvedere Trulli lookout which offers fabulous views over the whole higgledy-piggledy picture.

I know where we need to head in the morning so return to our bnb surrounded by a magnificent sunset- and I am always the girl to get excited when the sky is in pretty colours.

We have a wonderful pasta dinner in a little family run trattoria where Karen has the opportunity to learn how to roll and shape orrecchiette, the local speciality pasta.

Undoubtedly the sole reason to come to Alberobello is to wander the truilli lined streets…there is after all, no other place like this in the world. This UNESCO world Heritage site is a dense mass of 1500 of these beehive shaped homes. The dry-stone buildings are made from local limestone and were built in this pyramid shape without cement because they could be easily dissembled. Therefore, residents could avoid paying taxes on their homes.

The truili zone contains over 1000 truili and almost no other types of building style. It is touristy, with gift shops on every other doorway, but also very pretty.

There was no plan…we just meandered to our hearts content, finding the odd quiet street or ridiculously photogenic nook off the main thoroughfare.

We stop for breakfast so the girls can all have the usual coffee to feed their addiction and I have my first taste of burrata which I have been highly anticipating. Burrata is a specialty type of cheese from Puglia and it’s delicious… a pouch made of buffalo mozzarella with cream and soft cheese inside- fabulous with anything but I savour it on an amazing fresh bread roll with fresh local ham and tomatoes. Heaven in a bread roll!

Back to our beast and we decide that it is easier to continue to pack a couple of days worth of clothes in an overnighter rather than trying to lug our big heavy suitcases up hills and staircases and over cobbles. Karen’s wheels and Anne’s handle have already broken. We all pull our suitcases out and open them in the street to sort for the next couple of days travel, much to the amusement of passers by.

And then, once again we make tracks for the next amazing chapter in our story.