Terry spent the day in that time-honoured cruising pastime
of ‘waiting for a bloke with a new part’, this time for our temperamental
bow-thruster, so Kim and I set off for a day out in Lecce, the capital of the
Puglia region. After purchasing our tickets in flawless Italian, we downed a
wake-up cappuccino then hopped trustingly aboard the 10.17 leaving from
Platform 3 for Lecce. Or so we thought. About 20 minutes into a pleasant
journey through aged olive groves, the conductor arrived to inspect our
tickets. “No Lecce,” he informed us with a theatrical look of dismay, “This
tren to Bari!” Well we didn’t want to go to Bari, having just gone to all the
trouble of sailing from there to
Brindisi, so we hopped off at Ostuni, the next town, to make our way back.
Small problem, the station-mistress told us with a tragic look not unlike the
conductor’s, “Next tren 14.00” – about two and a half hours! She consoled us
with a suggestion: “Look Ostuni (expressive gesture) Very nice!” So we decided
to look Ostuni. We became aware of another small problem as we left the station
and spied the sparkling white town of Ostuni atop a distant hill. The station
was in a fairly deserted industrial area a long way from the town, but we
happily encountered a friendly African trolley guy outside a supermarket who
told us where to wait for a bus. Then he called the bus, which arrived minutes
later “special for you!” The bus driver was another delightful friendly Italian
who was very concerned for our welfare and gave us repeated, increasingly loud
instructions on how to get around town and to catch the return bus.
Ostuni was a delightful surprise. It is a very old town with
some fine buildings and a beautiful sunlit piazza. We naturally gravitated to
“Kim’s Ristorante” where we enjoyed an excellent lunch of pasta, prosciutto and
the awesome local cheese, “burrata” which is like “mozzarella on the outside,
stracchiatelli on the inside”. A magnificent building of the type where you imagine
Mussolini waving from the balcony towered over the square, and well-dressed
folk with bundles of important papers kept arriving and leaving – clearly a
place of civic authority. We had a bit of a wander but decided eventually to
call a taxi back to the station. Antonio arrived in his black Mercedes and we
enjoyed the scenic views back down the hill – troubled by the niggling thought
that our bus driver was probably cruising the streets of Ostuni looking for us
still…
So, back on the tren to Brinsisi, then on to Lecce. Kim had a bit of a kip while I chatted to a Pakistani-Italian jeweller called Mario/Muhammed, who suggested a few places of interest in Lecce (including, of course, his shop). The old town of Lecce was quite attractive, though it was the depths of siesta-time and not a lot was happening anywhere. We eventually found our way to the famous Baroque cathedrale, taking directions from several people, including a tribe of kids who took great delight in escorting us personally to the site. The cathedrale is the very definition of Baroque, with all sorts of bizarre creatures cavorting alongside solemn popes, saints and archbishops around its facade. Grimaldi described it as a “lunatic stonemason having a nightmare” – harsh, but you can see what he means! A quick prayer, a look around the creepy crypt and we were back on the street seeking directions to the stazione. “Dritto, dritto, dritto to arco, then poco, poco destra to semaphora, sinistra to stazione” accompanied by flamboyant gestures and mimes. Yep, we’ve got it, grazie!
Playing statues in the courtyard
Weird mummy figures appeal to the Madonna in the crypt...
Dritto, dritto...
Sometimes the best days happen quite by accident! Thanks,
Kim, for being such wonderful company and remember that your Common Sense T shirt entitles you to
come aboard any time, anywhere.
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