Torre Chiancha

There were a lot less vehicles parked around us last night, so this morning, we could see a fine display of wild, red poppies opposite, their colour splattering the white washed wall behind. Once again we were awakened by the cockerel, but we didn't mind, and slept in a little, to compensate.

We, chatted to the Dutch couple next to us, swapping tips and information. He advised us on the best route back to France, and dissuaded us, from going anywhere near Germany, which we had thought we might, as the mentality there was, 'no, you cannot do that!'. Before we left, we doused Marge, after refilling her fresh water tank. It now being Saturday, and the weekend, we wondered if we shouldn't give another visit to Lecce a go. It would be a shame to be so close, and not. So off we set, the traffic a lot lighter than yesterday, and we found some parking in a car park for Marge quiet easily. Low and behold, the only campervan space, was right next to the Dutch couples van, we'd been beside last night. Small world, in such a large city. Angela went of to pay the attendant for the parking, ten euros, we know a bit steep, but glad to have found Marge a place so easily, without the stress of being caught in a narrow side street, it seemed O.K. But John, checked on the internet, and it said, we should have paid five euros. Watch out Mr Parking Attendant, who was having none of it, and suddenly did not speak a word of English. So that was that. We have noticed here in Italy, that most of the items on stalls, or in small shops, are not priced, and that at the fuel stations, there is a price for self service, and a price for serviced, of which the serviced price can differ by as much as seventeen cents a litre.

Eggs sandwiches packed in our rucksacks, we can hear you laughing! We walked into the city, wowed from the off.

The tree lined walkways, a display of blossom and flowers, the baroque architecture, a solid construction of stone and wrought iron.

The sunken Roman amphitheatre, stunning in its originality, although just a section preserved.

Our eyes were diverted everywhere, look at the balconies, the doors, the facades, the carved stone, the churches, and the striking cathedral.

At one church, we spotted a kestrel flying back and forth to a nest. Opposite, a group of young people were just finishing their lunch. They were sat at a table, which had been set up in the narrow side road, next to the restaurant. Cars were permitted in this part of the city, and they passed the diners with only a couple of inches to spare. Only in Italy! We are constantly amazed at the speed the cars travel along these narrow streets, in built up areas.

You can see where the original Fiat 500 comes into its own, and we have seen quite a few of them, whilst being in Italy.

 

As we walked on, we spotted a cockerel outside one of the shops, we were beginning to develop a phobia about cockerels! Back at Marge, we had a quick chat with the Dutch couple, who were taking time out for a cup of afternoon tea. Then we headed off, wishing them a safe onward journey.

Tonight's stop, is right beside the beach at Torre Chiancha, on the Adriatic coast.

The swell of the sea, washes over the rocks and an onshore breeze cools us, after a daytime temperature of 27c. At first there was a little uncertainty about staying here, as it is a little isolated, but now an Austrian couple have arrived with their van, so we're all relaxed. As we drift of to sleep tonight to the sound of the sea, we hope to witness a fabulous sunrise in the morning.

Gallipoli

Due to our position last night, adjacent to the ferry terminal for ferries to Albania, we thought it best to put our extra security locks on, the doors of the van. But, all was fine. As expected, we were awoken, courtesy of the cockerel.

We left this morning, before eleven o' clock, planning on visiting the city of Lecce. But when we arrived, there was just too much traffic, and no hope of parking the van. So it was 'arrivederci' Lecce, and with that, Marge promptly took control, and with a hand signal, (no, not that one), launched herself into the Italian traffic. We decided, to cross to the other coast, to the town of Gallipoli, with its castello, (castle), and, old town.

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We managed to find parking for Marge quite easily, in a car park, that was free from one to four in the afternoon, siesta time. Gallipoli, is a smart coastal town, with the clear waters of the sea lapping at its edge, in which brown mullet swim, and traditional fishing boats bob.

We are now on the heel, of Italy, and from here you can see right around the bay, almost to the end point. We, walked around the narrow streets of the town, photographed the chapel, castello, churches, and fantastic cathedral. Down on the quayside were a row of classic cars. From the banners,we realised a classic car rally was happening here this weekend, and was something to do with the Lecce, automobile club.

We photographed the cars, and sent a photograph of the red ferrari, and a porsche, to our grandson Jack, who loves all things to do with super-cars.

On route here, we saw acres and acres of dead olive trees. This area, Puglia, has been worse affected by a bacteria that infiltrates the olive trees. The bacteria is carried from tree to tree, by a tiny, little bug. We found the sight devastating, but obviously, not as devastating, as the owners, of the trees. That's the one thing about travelling to other countries. You are naive to think, that everything will look, and be, as it is, in all the books you read about a country, written by people living the dream. No one, ever seems to write about about the reality, which we were seeing in front of our own eyes today. We felt saddened, seeing the landscape so blighted, and knowing, how the situation, must have affected many peoples income, and lifestyles.

After our visit to Gallipoli, we decided to head back to Brindisi, for another night, as we have decided to turn back, and head north up the east coast. On our way, we were diverted off the dual carriageway, because of an accident involving a jack knifed lorry, carrying scrap aluminium. It was only yesterday, that we commented that we were suprised we saw so few accidents here, considering such terrible driving. This evening, we cannot hear the cockerel, which we know from comments on the internet, has been here for at least two years. Let's hope, it hasn't ended up in somebodies cooking pot. It is Friday night, so perhaps it's found a lady friend for a night out. Talking of lady friends, the roads leading to the major towns and cities in the area, seem to have a good representation. One was sat in her car, alongside the traditional plastic garden chair, this brought a whole new meaning to the 'home office'. It is quiet on the aire to tonight. Next to us are a Dutch couple, who seem very nice. We think, they may be on-route to Greece, as they were keen to walk out this evening, and see the Greek car ferry. Considering, they've travelled from Holland, she seemed to be dressed very pristine. You can normally spot the campervan/motorhome owner, we are normally clean, but a little crumpled. The Dutch lady showed signs of stays on campsites, with washing machines and irons. Where's the fun in that, we came away to escape such chores. Campervan life, releases you from the constraints of normality. Just one thing, could someone arrange for Amazon to deliver a washing machine to us!

Brindisi

In southern Italy this morning, a bright, clear sky, greeted us. As we left the aire, to walk to the town, a jay, flew across in front of us, landing on a nearby wall. Sensing, we wanted to photograph it, it took flight.

As we walked amongst the trulli houses, we realised, that despite being tired from walking around the cave dwellings, at Matera yesterday, we perhaps should have walked out yesterday evening, to look at the houses, as there were many visitors viewing them this morning. So, once again, we had to wait patiently, to try and obtain some reasonable photographs, that were not full of strangers. As we walked amongst the hobbit like buildings, we were amused by the Japanese women, who whenever we see them, always pose for their photographs, like they are expecting to be featured in a glamour magazine.

Most of the houses are gift shops, but in one area, there were quite a few as holiday lets.

Down near the towns high street, we saw two men repairing the roof on one of the trulli houses, which was interesting, as we could see a cross section of its construction.

Around midday we left Alberobello.

The market was on in the town, so as Marge squeezed through the parked cars, we stopped to allow an elderly gentleman to pull in front of us. When we can, we always do this, it's one less person to keep an eye on behind you, and it's terribly British! John, thinks that because he was so shocked by our gesture, that he promptly drove into the side of a stationary vehicle, and didn't stop, of course. Good job we let him out in front of us! As we left the the town, the country roads narrowed, and the Italians were still attracted to Marge's bodywork, cutting every corner, and passing as close as they could. We drove by, fields of cherry trees, and saw a person, stop and buy some over a wall, direct from the man harvesting them. As we travelled south, the landscape flattened out, just to our left were white flat roofed houses, in an Arabic design, with the electric blue of the Adriatic sea showcasing them from behind. To our right, acres and acres of olive trees, some of them quite old, with thick, split, gnarled trunks.

Tonight, Marge is back down the docks. The aire is in the car park, adjacent to the ferry terminal at Brindisi.

From the van, we can see the car ferry, waiting to set sail for Albania. No, we're no tempted. However, the other car ferry, that leaves from this port, sails to Greece, but we'll save that, for another trip. The temperature when we arrived was 29c. It doesn't seem possible, that a few days ago, we were witnessing the terrible storms around Pompeii.

Late afternoon, just as the shops, cafes and bars were reopening, we walked into town, stopping to look at various churches, some roman columns, the Adriatic sea and the many buildings, inhabited now only by pigeons.

As we crossed the road, behind our van, we could hear a cockerel crowing from the branches of an overhead tree. A cockerel, at a ferry port, really?

But, on our return to Marge, we saw said cockerel, strutting around the grass below, hopping up onto the bench seats, to show himself of. All very lovely, but please don't start crowing, around four o' clock in the morning!