First vacation of the year (then I had one two weeks later… Bad Planning) was to Fasano Italy and surrounding cities in southeast Italy: Martina Franca, Locorotondo, Sassi di Matera, Lecce, Monopoli, and Bari.

Sabado 20 maggio

Lunch at Ecco at the international terminal is a tradition…

With an additional meal on the plane since vacation is about eating (I’m not sure what I was watching, but one character was watching my white wine)…

Domenica 21 maggio

And finally some coffee and pastries (they called the swirly one escargot aux raisins!) at a cafe called Paul at the CDG airport along with a group of Germans discussing movies…

Sadly, the I, Robot escalators are in terminal 1 on the 3rd/4th/5th floors:

Passages between the third, fourth and fifth floors are provided by a tangle of escalators arranged through the centre of the building. These escalators are suspended over the central court. Each escalator is covered with a transparent tube to shelter from all weather conditions. These escalators were often used in film shootings (e.g., The Last Gang of Ariel Zeitoun). The Alan Parsons Project album I Robot features these escalators on its cover.

—Charles de Gaulle Airport – Wikiwand

Two-hour flight to Roma with a 70-year-old guy who used to live in Decatur but now lives in Columbia, SC with his 2nd or 3rd (or 4th?) wife. Land and the luggage carousel gods shine upon us by granting us Perfect Luggage Timing. Hertz where we got upgraded to an SUV because I’m such a nice guy. Worried about the size, and it is considerable larger than my Fiat, but it’s a hybrid and very modern.

The plan is: drive to Naples for a late lunch of famous Neapolitan pizza then on to Fasano with an estimated arrival at 8 or 9 (pm).

3+ hour-long drive to Napoli where Lisa takes over just before the city because I’m falling asleep at the wheel. We can’t find our choice of one of the “three best pizzarias in Napoli”, Pizzeria Sorbillo, and so after finding the only parking spot in town we plan-B it to the nearest pizzeria. Naples appeared to be at the end of a weekend festival with streamers hung over every street from building to building (the pic below is from Google Street View, so maybe it’s always festival season). The closest pizza spot was Pizzeria Vincenzo Costa Napoli.

This was the scariest neighborhood I’ve ever been in and our first Stressful Driving Experience of the trip. Google street view above lines up with what we experiences. Even with the streamers it did not feel festive. It was afternoon but raining periodically and so along with the time zone disorientation we felt we were in some grim twilight. The pizza place was only 4 minutes away from our parking spot but after walking halfway there we got too nervous about the car (and ourselves) and abandoned our Neapolitan Pizza Plans. We’ll hit Napoli on our next trip. On our route out of the city we drove by L’antica Pizzaria da Michele. It was also on the list of the “three best pizzerias in Naples” but was in the movie “Eat, Pray, Love” so I had vetoed that choice. The line was out the door. Good veto.

Exit Naples and abandon the option of hitting a restaurant in some città-on-the-way but wisely decide to just pick up a toasta at some stazione sevizio. It’s pushing 24 hours and sitting down with food and wine at a restaurant could be disastrous.

After telephone mishaps with Angelina we decide to abandon my fractured Italian and her non-English and conversed over VRBO chat. Up a winding hill. Up further. Italian standoffs with cars going in the opposite direction. Further. No, not here, further. Almost… aha! A sign that says Villa Angelina and a narrow driveway at an equally precarious angle to the gated parking area where Angelina Calabrese. Maybe I wouldn’t think of her as Italian-looking if not in Italy but she at least reminded me of a classically attractive Italian lady. Tour around the grounds of what I can only describe as a stately villa, one of many in the neighborhood, then the apartment and we are left to our grogginess and wine and remaining parts of our stazione servizio sandwiches. 33 hours.

Lunedì 22 maggio

Complimentary breakfast at the rental consisting of miscellaneous breads, some meats, yogurt, and packaged spreads. I haven’t tried to figure out the legit espresso machine or work with the mixed packages of coffee pods that don’t seem to fit anything. They include coffee with your breakfast so I deal with that until we get out into the world.

Bob and the family invite us to go meet up at the city of Martina Franca just 20 minutes south of us. It’s a clear day and warming up and as we drive there I find a local pop station with the perfect music for driving down the narrow roads. Roads between towns can be normal two lane roads, smaller but not dangerous, to one-lane half-paved ones that GPS might decide is the best route. You simply pray that it’s also one-way. Some of those narrow roads have periodic areas where you can pause on the side if you see something coming; some are flanked by stone walls. Hope for the best.

Martina Franca is busy and bright anneverd a welcome change from our last city adventure (no offense Napoli). We scored again what appeared to be the last parking spot in town. Maybe that’s just an Italian optical illusion or more likely it’s just that we never have to drive anywhere at home and so  have to find parking. Bob and Lisa park just around the corner, proving either the optical illusion theory, and the girls/guy were a few minutes away.

My joke food porn photos of airport food made me forget that I’m supposed to take photos of real food and location experiences so I failed a bit on this first day. (Side note: I had the brilliantdrunken idea a few months back to start posting after-meal food porn with nothing but empty, dirty plates. I had quickly forgotten and, though I remember now, know that Italy is not the time to restart.) After a bit of walking the city and visiting the Bacilica di San Martino we stop at Pane Amore e Fantasia for foodwine. It’s apparently a chain inspired by a movie:

The waiter was affable and accommodating with Bob’s and my Italian. This was our first hint that many waiters we encounter will not speak English but will be understanding if you have enough Italian to be understood. Upon Bob’s prompting, I started taking lessons from a site called Preply around a month before leaving. Much too short to be conversant but very useful. My wonderful tutor Marina (whom I have dubbed Santa di Patienza) spoke no-to-little English so my experience was full submersion which, though agonizing, I wanted. (I chose her because she also speaks German and I’d like to eventually get some tutoring on that.) Much like my Preply experience, Italy was largely immersive. In fact, it was less enjoyable when camerieri would force us into English. It feels like both I am insulting them and they are insulting me. Of the restaurants on this entire trip, the waiter at Pane Amore e Fantasia was the most easy-going.

Post-lunch, Lisa and I sallied off on our own to get gelato and then headed home to zone out. Pre-home, we wanted to stop of an afternoon cocktail but learned a lesson that would haunt us the rest of the week (so, I guess, we didn’t learn it): riposo shuts most places down. We bucked the “most” rule and found a little bar/bodega (coffee, wine, misc.) called Oriental Bar. Another chain, but you take what riposo offers.

Meet for dinner at Osteria Il Rosone in Locorotondo with absolutely everyone we were on vacation with. Table of… 11? Egads too many people to fit in a small and otherwise charming restaurant. I know I should enjoy the bon vivant of the group dining experience in a worldly setting but the conversations tend of necessity to become archipelagos and not at all a collective of opinions on the various subjects that come up discursively. And the meal was more difficult to manage, order-wise, since there was only one waiter that could communicate with us–the easy-going interactions with the cameriere at Pane was nowhere to be found.

I feel like that’s too much complaining.

End the meal late and we all separate in our different groups and cars to return home. Locorotondo shuts down early. Well maybe not early early but they shut down before we left the restaurant. And herein we find our next problem of the evening. The empty streets of Locorotondo give Lisa and I no clue as to where our car is. The others weren’t parked near us and so the empty, winding, narrow walkways and streets gave us no clues to the right direction. And empty city is a different city. I don’t think we were too worried about any danger, any more than you feel in any desolate area, but the general low-level anguish of being lost in a foreign city in a foreign land was compounded. It felt like we were wandering forever but it always does in such situations. Finally, almost giving up but knowing we can’t, we gave up on what looked like the main road through town (which was where we parked) and decided to return to the restaurant hoping that maybe it would trigger some sort of mothers-can-lift-a-Volkswagen directional power within us. Up the nearest stairs to get back towards the restaurant and… yep, car’s right there.

We have never been so happy in our lives. It was oasis-in-a-desert joy. Prior to that–with honestly no hope of even finding a hotel–we had resigned to call my brother for help if the restaurant locale didn’t realign us. And that feeling like we wandered forever that’s usually exaggerated? We spend at least 45 minutes in car-less limbo.

Short story: everywhere we parked after that got a pin in Google maps.

Martedì 23 maggio

Learning that Villa Angelina has a woodshop or some other type of machine shop where the workers start banging and drilling at around 8.

riciclare – to recycle

It took quite a bit of fumbling around in a conversation with Angelina to determine that they recycle. I expected there to be more of a structure to it since at home we have separate containers for glass, paper, plastic, and cans, but all she had was a tiny trash bucket next to the even tinier trash trash bucket. During our “conversation” (Always assume that when I say “conversation” it means me speaking one or two words, her rattling off a few sentences, and then me looking puzzled since I only understood a fraction. Oddly, it is very tiring to try to speak.)

See rock city!

The decision for the day is between Alberobello (hundreds of centuries-old trulli!), Gioia del Colle (archeological sites! mozzarella!) and Sassi di Matera (ancient city on a hill). The more I read about Sassi it became an easy choice even though an hour-and-a-half from Fasano. Absolutely worth it.

The Sassi originate from a prehistoric troglodyte settlement and are suspected to be among the first human settlements in Italy. There is evidence that people were living here as early as the year 7000 BC.

People living there now could be living where their ancestors did 9,000 years ago. (!?!)

And now we come to the second Stressful Driving Event of the trip. I mapped directions to what I thought was a good spot in the city to park but instead I took us too far into the ancient area that, with no way to turn around, we were committed to navigate through narrow, ancient streets. We weren’t the only ones since people live there, but I cannot express the terror of it all. What if we’re heading into a dead-end and somehow have to turn around? What if a car comes in the opposite direction?! There were some turns that maybe could have taken us out but most were too narrow for the car to make it. I now have proximity sensor PTSD it went off so much. After maybe 30 minutes of white knuckling it through the ancient city we finally got to a more modern area and a parcheggio that had creative turns of its own for us to deal with. That was a common theme with parking. God I wish I had a smaller car.

It was all worth it though:

Now, when I say “ancient city”, I mean the newer ancient city. The part we were in was built on some of the caves, but the preserved, 9,000-year-old site is at the top of a different hill across a small valley. We thought that we’d be able to walk down the mountain, over a small river, and up to the cave site (we could see people hiking up) but the a WC attendant (€0.50 euro, worth it) told me the path down was closed because it was too dangerous. We would have had to drive out and circle around to get to parking elsewhere. Maybe 30 minutes away? It was not meant to be.

We got lost in the various walkways through the city and recognized some of the streets we drove through. Egads. Just walking through the city was reason enough for the trip but the recommended destination was the Cattedrale di Maria Santissima della Bruna e Sant’Eustachio. It had a museum of sorts with medieval books, some with music in neumic notation, and a glass floor looking down into caves of the more-ancient cathedral.

One local artisanal offering is the good luck “cucù” (he’s the white, colorfully striped guy in the middle of the pic below). He’s a rooster but cucù translates, obviously, to cuckoo. Don’t question the Good Luck Rooster!

It’s a small whistle carved in the shape of a rooster that when blown makes a rooster noise–cuckoo! They were a typical children’s past time and a gift for those about to get married. Roosters are a symbol of fertility, abundance, and protection. Back in the day, they used to be placed on kids cradles to protect them from bad spirits. Most kids would receive it as a gift during Easter and head to the Sasso Caveoso area to purchase them at the various markets and cave stores.

from 5 Artisanal Souvenirs from Matera

We got lost on our way back to the first piazza where we entered but ended with wine and bruschetta with olive oil and tomatoes.

On the drive back we went past a field of windmills and I’m not sure why but they fascinated me so we stopped so I could go visit one.

What started here:

Continued here:

And ended up here:

As soon as I got to it it started spinning. It was everything I’d hoped it’d be.

We get home and are greeted by a dead lizard, gifted by one of the many villa cats. The following days I keep removing it and it keeps returning, ultimately being overridden with ants. Nature is disgusting. Relax before a 30 minute walk the rental house where the rest of the crew were staying. Whereas our pad was a classic villa, theirs was an MTV Cribs Mediterranean palace. A leisurely evening of wine and charcuterie.

Mercoledì 24 maggio

Half day trip to Lecce to walk around the piazzas. The original intent was to drive to Bob’s and then ride with them. Car Chaos Part II: even though they are only five minutes away in the same neighborhood, we get stuck on a switchback. Workers with a backhoe moved out of the way to let us turn, but it was so tight and steep that our tires eventually started spinning. No way forward because of the traction and no way back because of the wall that was now inches away. We have successfully blocked both roads. As the workers and I puzzle over a solution, another car pulls up from the direction we came and the frustration increases. Finally one of the workers has the (now obvious) idea to get everyone behind and push us out. Freedom!

I lavori spingono la nostra macchina!

It was another day of sunny driving and listening to Italian radio. Well, trying to listen to Italian radio since most were playing American music and generally fading in and out for no apparent reason. We would drive five minutes across a flat landscape and the station would disappear, but then reappear five minutes later. ?! We arrive and the others direct us to the parking lot where they are and Jesus, Car Chaos Part III: the entrance was such a tight corkscrew going down one level that our car could barely get through. The side sensors beeped the whole way and we were within inches on the driver’s side and front right corner. Rather than feeling impenetrable after Sassì, I was just exhausted.

Walking from the parking lot (pleasepleaseplease let exiting be easier when we leave! (spoiler: it was almost as bad… so I guess that is easier?)) I see an ad for a David Bowie rock opera called Lazarus–which was the third song on his last album–but we missed the performance by one day. Would’ve been cool.

Or extremely cheesy.

The sun was brutal as we walked through the piazzas as we walked around and soaked up the Italian-ness of it all. Lunch on the patio at the Alibi Creative Club with Bob and Lisa (caprese sandwich, mussels, wine). Very good. We wandered past Greg and Julie who were having lunch at a small café (maybe Vineria Santa Cruz?) and had a perfect wine for the evening so I purchase some and have somewhat of an actual chat with the proprietor. Come for the wine, stay for the Obama poster on the wall.

Wrong turn to get home and I have to make more extremely tight turns and get stuck at an intersection. I am so tired of this shit.

Dinner that evening was catered by a local chef and amazing: Anchovies butter toast, tube pasta with lobster, sea bass in salt with sliced potatoes. Table discussion was the writers strike with Greg and I talked about what ChatGPT can do and why they absolutely need to at least get familiar with it so they’re prepared for the future. I am a geek, but I feel like I need to be an ambassador of technology and not let pop science news be the only source. We walked back home and realize how dark it gets outside of a city. It’s a bit… creepy.

Giovedì 25 maggio

Today is the boat trip that the others had booked. We slept a little late and I regretted not cancelling breakfast so that we weren’t full for lunch, but lunch had its own mishaps. We met the family in Monopoli (why is finding parking so stressful? now I know how people feel when they come to Midtown) and after some wandering and un caffè da asporto we landed at Meraki near the water. Quirky decorations that of course I took no photos of. We arrived late and the food arrived very late so Caroline and Thomas had to take theirs as soon as it was ready (d’asporto) and we split up to run to our respective cars and attempt to make the boat. Most did. Two didn’t. Directions were wonky and took us to a restaurant where a lady who works there told us to go down the street to the next address. There, a security guard said we needed to know our tour company. (I have this vision of old movies where montage scene of the gumshoe asking questions around town but no one has seen the person of interest. Heads shaking.) I call Bob and he says we should be next to a church, which we weren’t, and that the captain was already quite angry because of their late arrival.

Plan B: Bari.

First stop was the Cattedrale di San Sabino which had a beautiful crypt. I took a few pictures and it is absolutely insane that the one in the Wikipedia article is almost exactly the same. In the basilica proper they were playing a recording of an ambient composition written for the cathedral. I wrote down Music for Cathedrals and found this recording by Rocco Carella on Bandcamp. Definitely Brian-Eno-inspired.

Lunched at Sorsi e Morsi (“sips and bites”) then home. What did we do that night? Not sure.

Venerdì 26 maggio

Slept late, again, and drove to Alberobello to see the many trulli. Our cheesy tourist goal this whole trip had been pizza so we stopped at a pizza place called VIDA Ristorante Pizzaria in the main square. Looked nice. Comfortable seats on a covered patio. Out of the blistering sun. Not too busy. And then… no pizza?!? Pause, but we decide to stay and enjoy some bruschetta and pasta. Waaaaay too much food in both dishes but good enough for a tourist-heavy locale. We walked it off through the winding paths and visited the only multi-story trullo in Italy (Trullo Savrano).

Back to Fasano and wander the city then our home base in Villa Angelina to shower and pack and prepare for our final night of Italy. I found a pizza place in Fasano that seemed to be authentic yet modern. Artefarina lievitati. I had prepared Italian phrases for restaurant ordering and, though I hadn’t needed to use them most of the trip, I suspected this place would be more for locals. I didn’t want us to be the clumsy tourist couple. There was no need to fear: this was the best experience and absolutely the best food of the entire trip. We were the first there but it soon filled up with locals. We shared a pizza but as we saw others order learned that people (even women who looked like models) order an entire pizza for themselves. The trick is that they don’t eat the crust. This is one local tradition I will not respect.

So, after failing our pizza-search the first day in Napoli we more than made up for it on the last. I don’t remember much of the trip home except for meeting the family again Saturday night at the Atlanta airport luggage carousel. Exhausted, but vacation-exhausted.