Taking it giorno per giorno

“. . . not on our radar as we planned our trip to Puglia, but how could we resist this Airbnb when we saw its beautiful photos and cheeky name . . . Matino is the perfect location to explore Salento and has a quiet village feel with good restaurants, an historic town centre and a short drive to the beaches and other experiences. Highly recommended.” This was the review we wrote for the Too Cute 2b Str8 listing that was our home for 14 days. This little oasis is owned by Alessandro who calls it his “tiny house”. He played a key role in our love of Matino, even though he was managing from a distance in Milan. It was everything he said it would be and we really made ourselves at home. Mostly, we felt "at home" after meeting a few locals and seeing a more personal view of this beautiful part of the world. Our time in Puglia was much more than expected. What we didn’t quite expect were the crowds this time of year. Yes, we had been warned, but in our rose-coloured glasses way, we hoped it was an exaggeration. Definitely NOT. We were here during the summer holidays that include Ferragosto and Italians travel to the coasts in droves to celebrate. Everywhere we went -- villages, small towns, beaches, cities – was at capacity. It was non-stop energy on the streets, and everyone enjoyed it until the early morning hours.

First impressions Mercoledi – Domenica

As you can see, by the end of our travels we were completely in love with Matino. Our initial two days, however were a bit bumpier. Driving in, parking, and moving our luggage to the “tiny house”, we couldn’t help but notice some stares from local townsfolk (mostly men) who sit street-side at café tables and benches and appear to be the Italian versions of a Gladys Kravitz. (Google her if you are not a Bewitched fan). That feeling (which endured for most of our stay) was countered by the warm greeting we had from our local contact, Michele, who made us feel instantly at home, as he helped us get settled into the flat. His advice was not to mind the harmless vecchios. There were plenty of gay couples around, and their stares were probably due to the sight of a few non-Italians invading the village at this time of year.

Feeling more comfortable, we headed for a neighbourhood, late night dinner at Danilo and had a “no one speaks the same language” experience where the owner gestured, pointed, translated some of Robert’s Spanish, and read our iPhones to successfully bring us an incredible meal. The night ended with complimentary limoncello and grappa. This was our second warm welcome and a sign of the true spirit of Matino we'd get to know and love.

Our whole plan for Puglia was focussed on exploring, using Matino as the home base. Day one we headed to the closest larger town to get our bearings and a feel for the roads. Gallipoli was only 20 minutes away and a good stop for sightseeing. We started our tourist time learning about parking lots and meters (hint: you need to know your license plate and be prepared with some change) and eventually got to the “old town”. This would be the first of many Italian old towns in Apulia, one of the richest archaeological regions in Italy. Not wanting to overdo the history and culture, we jumped back behind the wheel for Lido Punta della Suina, a nearby beach club that had been recommended both online and by a few locals. Unfortunately, it had been recommended to most everyone else around Gallipoli -- literally not a single place left in the sand or in the beach club. We trudged around until we found a little sliver of heaven (or something like it?) not far from the club. A dive into aquamarine/emerald green waters of the Ionian Sea made up for all the crowd stress. Definitely heaven. It’s amazing how therapeutic a swim can be and how it always feels fresh and new.

On Friday it was a different beach, this time Spiaggia d’Ayala towards Tauranto where we found plots of sand not hidden by bodies, some early Salento Pride revellers and again, that amazing water. This could get to be routine, but maybe we should do more than beach and sea. That evening, back in Matino, we decided to try a TripAdvisor-recommended restaurant even with sun and surf fatigue. A Locanda Tu Marchese has a magical rooftop with amazing views of the sunset, English speaking waitresses, and local peasant food of the best quality. It felt “authentic” and seemed to be a family run operation with an attached inn. The servings were massive, and the quality matched the quantity. We decided against the local specialty cavallo (Robert’s Spanish helped translate this and it was an instant decision), but the Orecchiette con Frutta di Mare was memorable. Our long, leisurely night ended with an Italian guitar player adding to the ambiance, spiced up a bit when the owner joined in for a couple of songs. What a good day and night! We were getting into the groove of the place and our crush on Matino was the real deal.

With a bit of the local surroundings under our belt, we ventured further east to Castro – the town which our old neighbourhood in San Francisco was named after. (OK – we made that up, but we still had to go as all reports were top notch). In Castro, we lost a couple of our added kilos walking up to the storico centro overlooking the marina. It’s a tiny village beautifully restored with a visual treat around every corner. Playing typical tourist, we walked the walled neighbourhood, iPhone “picced” everything we could and found some ripe figs to sample fresh from the tree. It was one of those days you have on holiday in Europe – feeling a bit embarrassed as you wonder through the local’s living spaces but amazed at the age and beauty of it all. After a quick bite to eat, we sprinted around the castelo to the water for a swim. We found a spot at the rocks just past the marina and again – amazing water. This time we were in the Adriatic Sea, as clear and stunning as we’d come to expect. It was a relaxed spot and we could have stayed through sunset, but we had to get back for a big night in Matino.

Sunday was ViColi d’arte, the festival through the streets of the old town, only steps from where we were staying and a chance to really see the local colour. The festival had all of the charm of a small-town fete including something for the kids, food, beer, wine, music and everyone living out loud on the streets. The energy was fantastic, and the few hours were packed with local talent, cultural sight visits and exhibitions around the winding laneways that make up this preserved and restored gem. A start time of 9 with an end at midnight reminded us we were not in Oz anymore and kids, parents, neighbours, locals, and tourists intermingled through the night. That end time extended until almost 1am with a grand finale in the Piazza San Giorgio. We topped it all off with a cocktail at Foscolo, our first introduction to a relatively new upscale cocktail bar and rooftop restaurant. Located at the end of a narrow pedestrian only street near our Airbnb, it became a bit of a hangout we returned to regularly. So now we felt very at home and our crush had developed into a full-on affair with Matino.

Olives and Oleander

The easiest way to explore Italy and its winding countryside roads is of course in a small car. In our price range, FIAT preferred. Our rental company saw two non-Italians at the desk and instead gave us a Toyota Aygo.. . and away we Aygo . . . so much for the romanticised view of being Mario Andretti. We putt-putted along the autostrada and backroads commenting on the blossoming cactus (unexpected for us in Italy) and the flowering bushes that lined the roads. We had also seen these same bushes in Portugal and Spain and Robert from behind the wheel decided they were rhododendrons. Erik, from the navigator position had a keener eye and disagreed. We googled and googled and googled until we finally came to a compromise conclusion. They are oleander. Whether that is fact or not doesn’t matter, for us they are loads of beautifully coloured oleander lining highways and country roads across Italy and Portugal and Spain.

The one thing we were certain of was we were in olive country. Puglia produces 40% of Italy’s olive oil and we had our eyes out for those bucolic visions of sage green and emerald leaves on rows of trees that stretch to the horizon, dotted by the occasional vineyard. Instead, we noticed a glut of dried and severely pruned stock – the skeletons of a once-thriving industry. What had happened? Was it a downturn in consumption? Family’s selling farmland for development? A result of the GFC? Google to the rescue: the Xylella bacteria reached Salento from South America in the early 2000s and has spread rapidly over the past 15 years. Many farmers have lost 100% of their trees in that time. The worst part is that there is not yet a known remedy. Scientists at two local universities have found two olive strains that are resistant to the bacteria, but it will be 50 years before any new trees are producing what they old ones once did. And the bacteria is heading north as well. It is a massive problem for Italy and for all of Europe, let alone those of us globally who love olive oil. We wanted to get a more personal perspective of the problem, so we booked an olive oil tasting with Jolanda at Tenuta Bianco in Ugento. She is part of a fourth-generation family owned small production house led by women. Yolanda knows and has a passion for the industry. The three of us had loads of fun tasting not just olive oil, but olive oil infused with essential oils (ginger, lavender, vanilla, pepperoncino . . .), some other local produce, and of course a bottle of wine. We left feeling like we had a much better perspective of the beauty and challenges of the industry, and we’d made a new friend. The crush continues.

Tours and Tastes - Lunedi - Giovedi

It’s the start of a new week and time to give our little Aygo another workout. First stop: a drive north to Alberobello to see the trulli -- cone-shaped homes and buildings that are UNESCO heritage-listed and preserved both as residences and glimpses into the past. There are 2 distinct districts of trulli: one showcasing older tourist-based shops along with the local residential and civic buildings, and another more modern zone where many foreigners have taken a chance at unique investment properties. Our late morning arrival to hordes of tourists milling around in the blazing heat let us know we got the timing wrong. It was tour-bus-o’clock. But we’ve learned to navigate the crowds by now and find ways to feel alone in our sightseeing. The trulli were scrumptious ;-) (could not resist) – and we both were intrigued by the architectural design that dates back to the 14th century. The shape, painted symbols on the conical roofs and construction process over cisterns made for some intriguing tour group content and we spent about an hour eavesdropping and wandering, then the crowds were unbearable.

A few cafe granitas to cool down and we were on our way to Polignano a Mare. This Instagram worthy town beach is nestled between two cliffs where tourist and locals jump, dive, pirouette and belly flop into amazingly clear, turquoise and aquamarine water. We were greeted with one of those picture-postcard views you so often see in every Italian seaside movie. Amazing. The rocky beach of P a M is nestled between two cliffs with buildings rising up on both sides and the water stretching out as far as the eye can see. On this August day, colourful umbrellas covered the beach and the sea was filled with people who were clambering up the harbourside cliffs for their moment in the spotlight. We wandered further into the town and decided to treat ourselves to lunch with a view, stopping at Restaurante il Bastione with a decent glass of wine, some classic Italian cuisine and prime position for the unfolding entertainment.

The following night in Matino, we continued our food fest with dinner at Foscolo. We had been for cocktails a few nights before and now wanted to have the full rooftop dining experience we’d read of, sunset and all. The food was spectacular – a different type of cuisine than we had experienced so far. The mussels, risotto and sea bass were all prepared with a contemporary spin, but true to their Italian roots. Une Chef bravissimo. A nightcap was a must in the alley-side bar before wandering back to the little casa. Giancarlo knows how to make a first-rate sazerac (yes, in Italy) and the best espresso martini, and we took advantage of that skill as much as we could.

So, it’s no surprise we love Italian cooking – who doesn’t really? And even with three beautiful meals already under our belt – well maybe hanging over our belt -- the highlight of our culinary adventures was still to come. Michele, our local host, and his partner Marco invited us to dinner with their friends Adriano, Ombretta & Maurizio. It was the night of Ferragosto and Ombretta & Maurizio graciously opened their home for the casual rooftop dinner. We were so grateful for the invite but of course nervous with the language barrier. We had visions of poor Michele spending his whole night interpreting, or a worse scenario with everyone not saying a word, passing iPhones loaded with translated phrases. Of course, none of that happened. It turned out Adriano is an English teacher, Ombretta and Maurizio speak English and Marco understands enough so everyone made two visitors feel extra welcome. What we couldn’t say, we communicated through gestures, smiles, laughter and that feeling of community when people click. The rooftop meal was perfect. A fresh, summer cocktail got us off to a good start as we dug into some tasty local pomodoro-topped frisse. There was gorgeous octopus and potato salad, pesto pasta salad, a half watermelon of fresh fruit and our first taste of pasticciotto. That pastry dish is deadly – so good! All of this was lubricated with Maurizio opening lots of tasty prosecco along the way. We talked and laughed and learned more about new friends. This was a perfect example of how a place becomes the people you meet. We really were fortunate to have chosen the Airbnb we did.

Beaches and Boys – il fine settimana

Our time had come – the Pride celebration that we had actually planned to attend. On the trip so far -- New Orleans, DC, New York -- we were always JUST missing a Pride Celebration. It became a joke between us – maybe we’re a day late to the big gay party. But when we booked our place in Matino, we knew we would be in Italy during Salento Pride and thought it would be more our kind of celebration – a smaller event with a parade that ended in a big beach party. Of course, the irony was we missed the one we planned for as well! Deciding to skip what was billed as the start of the parade in Gallipoli, we opted for the after-parade party site, a lido named Por do Sol. There were clearly a lot of other potential pride attendees at this beach club who were doing the same. According to the schedule, the parade kick-off was 5:30 with a 45-minute walk to the beach. With no big announcements or crowd noise or even a marching group sound, we packed up our towels and umbrella to move closer to the lido to listen to the DJs and watch the sunset AND wait for this gay pride parade we’d thought would be a part of our 2times25 adventure. By 8:30, it was apparent that we either missed it, were in the wrong place, or it was a very small parade and the marchers mingled in unnoticed into the rest of the crew at the venue. The atmosphere was festive, music was fun and danceable, and we had a beautiful day anyway with the most magnificent sunset over Gallipoli – we are gay, we are proud, so it worked out. A return the following day to Spiaggia d’Ayala (which had become our favourite beach) found a lots of speedos and the colours of the rainbow. Maybe the remnants of the Salento pride crowd? And yes, we’d probably missed this Pride celebration too.

The Baroque City

“When in Puglia, you MUST visit Lecce.” We’d heard this from so many. “It is the Florence of the South, so beautiful, you’ll love it.” After our numerous pass throughs on our driving adventures, we decided it was time to see this over 2,000-year-old Baroque city. There was an instant connection for both of us to the romance of the place. The Baroque architecture was indeed spectacular living up to its comparison to Firenze, but it was smaller, fewer crowds and more manageable. We arrived during riposo so most shops were closed and streets empty, but that added to the allure of the city. It was easy to get lost wandering the laneways, gawking at how incredible it must be for locals to live in all its beauty. We also noted that it wasn’t preserved for the tourist alone, and a few residents milled about gawking back at us, lost amid their front doors, garages and wash hanging overhead drying in the intense sun. We stopped at Dopiozero café for a quick nibble and decided a return trip was in order when we weren’t wiped from a day at the beach. It was also clear that this was a city that needed to be experienced at night. So, we returned on Sunday evening for dinner at a casual trattoria on one of the many piazzas. Lecce at night lived up to our expectations and we wandered the streets for a while, envisioning what it would be like to live in a place with so much beauty and antiquity. Could we learn Italian? Work in something tourist-related? Spend 6 months painting sunrises and sunsets? . . . and then we added that to the list for our next gap year or grey nomad tour.

Final Impressions – Lunedi - Mercoledi

It’s so good to have local contacts when you travel. On their advice, we took a trip down to Santa Maria de Leuca to explore the grotte that line the coast. Because of its position at the south-eastern-most point of the Italian mainland, you can take a boat out of SM de Leuca to see caves on both the Adriatic and Ionian Seas. We booked in with Piccola Nautica for an afternoon departure and killed time with a walk around and a harbourside lunch at Lido Azzurro. Polpo again – and again it was beautifully prepared. After a post-lunch dip at the harbour beach, we headed over to our launch point to wait with the all-Italian passengers who we’d be cruising with. Our hopes for any English briefing of the grotte were pretty much out the window. That was confirmed as we were leaving the marina and the captain launched into a full Italian description of what we were seeing with no follow-on in English and our blank faces and embarrassingly apologetic looks unfortunately couldn’t bring any results. We again lamented that we didn’t take the time to learn the language. But the beauty was all around us, mother nature was at her finest with the blue, blue sea and the majestic cliffs . . . so sit back, enjoy the views and the sound of Italian spoken by a boat captain. What’s not to like? At our Adriatic Sea stop, there were a number of dark caves to swim through – R opted in (adventurous!) and E opted out (claustrophobic!). The light along the seabed gave a neon glow to the blue water entering what appears to be an underwater river. A very unique site. The caves along the Ionian Sea were a bit more open and we swam together, admiring the wind and water sculpted cave tops and the see-to-the-ocean floor cave bottoms. A final long swim workout back to the boat after a lot of eating without exercise during our Puglia stay was just what the trainer ordered.

We hadn’t spent time in Gallipoli at night yet, so we were excited to get a message inviting us to dinner with our new friend Adriano and his mates Carlo and Roberto. L’Osteria Casa Noscia was filled with samples of local Salento favourites. The highlight was the pasticciotto (again)– so fresh! You really can’t say enough about the food in this country. When we walked out of the restaurant, the atmosphere was electric. We walked through the partying masses to Blanc Lounge, a must-visit cocktail-stop in Gallipoli with its picturesque back garden and contemporary, well-styled interiors. Have a drink there if you’re ever visiting and listen to the variety of languages being spoken around every table . . . this was an eclectic, fun crowd.

What should we do on this last day in the tiny house and its lovely village and surrounding beaches? We were vacillating between a beach day and another historic site. Otranto had a bit of both so we Aygo-ed our way over. The Greeks founded this village and the alleyways are reminiscent of what you would find in the Cyclades. Unfortunately, we had our only average meal here with mushy polpo and unripe tomatoes (which the woman behind us complained about loudly in French to the Italian servers). But that was the only minus of this gorgeous seaside town.

A dip in the sea, an easy ride home, a last nibble with wine at Foscolo and our Matino time had come to a close.

We’d miss this place, the dog and bird chorus wakeup call each morning, the rooftop sunset views, the aquamarine waters and that taste of life in the slow lane that you get when in a small village. It was the people we met who added a whole new layer to this stop. Michele and Marco have their own Airbnb property and there’s always the tiny house to come back to. If we ever learn Italian, maybe Adriano could help us find a job teaching English. We will return – hopefully sooner rather than later.