Today is the day we drive around the peninsula of Salento. We plug our destinations into our GPS and drive to Galatina, only ½ hour away. Galatina is part of an area called the Greek Salentine. Puglia was controlled by the Greeks long before the Romans and there are Greek ruins throughout Puglia. No ones knows why why the Greek Salentine retained its Greek heritage in this tiny corner of Italy, but it is known that Greek monks fleeing the rule of Emperor Leon in the early part of the 8th Century settled in the area. More arrived after the fall of Constantinople in 1453. There are some areas on the Greek Salentine that still speak Greek and traffic signs are in both Italian and Greek, but we didn’t see any.
Our mission is the Basilica di Santa Maria Caterina d’ Alessandria. Again, no pictures allowed inside, so you’ll have to trust me when I say the frescoes we came to see are breathtaking. Every inch, it seems, is taken up with a magnificent fresco.
Walking back to the car, we stop at a small deli to get some bread for our lunch. The shop sells meat and cheeses and I see a pig’s leg on the meat cutter behind the counter. The proprietor looked like a stereotype of an Italian butcher. After selling us our pane, Karen noticed a handwritten sign taped to the wall. The deli is for sale. No price is listed, but looks like the butcher is ready to retire. What a nice life to run a deli in Puglia. But, Karen and I keep walking; we could not sell meat.
Next stop, Otranto on the Adriatic coast. Most of the Adriatic side of Puglia has a rocky coastline and is undeveloped. Ontranto, because of its port, is the exception. In the summer, this is a resort town, hopping with sun worshippers. We are there during the offseason. We drive to the main marina and park just outside where the road curves to lead out of town. Three months earlier, no doubt, this was bumper to bumper with miles of beachgoers vying for their little scrap of sand on which to set their towel. Today, Karen and I are alone. It’s very windy, so we sit in the car and have a picnic and watch the waves. Karen lets me have her leftovers from last night so I finally get orichetti. It’s worth the wait!
Next stop, Santa Marad di Leuca. The very tip of the heel of the boot of Italy! Just a short trip down the coast and our GPS only leads us astray a couple of times (how lost can you get when you are following the coast?) We first stop at the lighthouse and I look down at the town and the marina and look at where the Adriatic and Ionian Seas meet. It looks like treacherous waters and Steve later confirms that this is the case. Heading down to the town, which is another tourist resort, it is deserted. We are utterly alone walking along the boardwalk. It’s like Watch Hill in the dead of winter.
Next, up the Ionian coast to Gallipoli. The Ionian coast has many sandy beaches and is dotted with condos and resort towns. Steve’s boat is docked here and he later told us that the sunsets over the Ionian Sea are not to be missed. Of course, we missed it, wanting to get back to Lecce.
We find a parking spot near the old town of Lecce (most cars are not allowed inside the old town walls) and walk to the B&B Prestige. We had forgotten to confirm our reservation. But, Renata, the proprietor, is gracious and checks us into our room. Renata and her boyfriend Steve map out Lecce for us and we chat about the town’s history and travel (Steve has worked in over 20 countries). Renata lets us sample some of her family’s olive oil they make from their own olive trees. Deliciouso!
We take a short siesta (we’re really enjoying this lifestyle of napping in the afternoon) and then head out for our pasagiatta. Did I mention how much we love the pasagiatta? See and be seen, stroll and talk. Lovely.
Dinner, unfortunately, is a disappointment. Karen’s rapini is salty to the point of being inedible. My pasta, while ok, is nothing special. Dolce is a lemon curd cake and is the meal’s standout. Our waiter, however, is a great guy. We talk with him about music and he points us to a concert which we never got to. I won’t tell you the name of the restaurant. In this age of the Internet, negative comments last forever and I am inclined to always give the benefit of the doubt and chalk it up to an off night.
Leaving, it is raining and the streets are deserted. Heading to Joyce, we walk in and are the only patrons in the place. The walls are filled with pictures of Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, Bob Marley, U2, Rolling Stones and more. We sit at the bar and order our beers from Claudio. We talk futbol and I tell Claudio my story of sharing the flight from Rome to Brindisi with US Lecce. He points to a photo tacked to the wall, a good looking young guy in e US Lecce uniform. It was Claudio! In the 80’s he was a famous soccer player for US Lecce. Later, we talked music. I show Claudio my card for One Love Farm with the Rasta colors on it and he popped in a CD of Bob Marley. First up, “Redemption Song” my favorite song! Another couple who had come in sway to the music and the waitress bops to the rhythm. Could anything be more incongruous than Americans sitting in an Irish Pub in Lecce basking in the glory of Bob Marley? I try to ask the waitress why she likes Bob Marley, but we could not communicate past the most simple idea of “I like good music.” I do know that reggae is very popular in Puglia, to the point where there are Italian reggae bands in Puglia. One theory is that reggae is the music of the oppressed. And, certainly Puglia knows from oppression. Poor and repeatedly conquered by outsiders “got no time for mental slavery.” We walk home in the rain soaking wet and happy.
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