Our week in Puglia (Italy) with a toddler
Sep 29th, 2009, 10:26 PM
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Our week in Puglia (Italy) with a toddler
Just returned from a week in beautiful Puglia in southern Italy (the “heel” of the boot).
We stayed at a gorgeous bed & breakfast in an old masseria (traditional fortified farmhouse) near Ostuni, which I found after trawling through many holiday rental sites on the web. www.larascina.it
It was our first “proper” holiday with our little daughter, now 14 months old, so a lot of our old holiday routines – such as long lies, lazy lunches and gastronomic dinners – were replaced by early morning wake-up calls, ziplock baggies full of toddler snacks and child-friendly restaurants. However, we had a fabulous time and discovered, as many others have before us, that the Italians just adore children and are incredibly tolerant and welcoming!
We live in Brussels and flew to Brindisi via Milan with Alitalia. We could have flown direct with budget airline Ryanair but I find their baggage allowances too small for us plus baby, given all the paraphernalia we end up carting around. I also looked into an Italian no-frills airline called Myair that also ran a direct Brussels-Bari flight, but decided that these small airlines are a bit risky as they seem to go bust as quickly as they pop up. Turned out my hunch was right, as Myair’s operations have recently been suspended.
<b>Day 1: getting there, getting wound up, and getting lost</b>
Our flight to Milan with Alitalia left at 2pm. This was only the second time we’d flown with our little girl (E) so we were a bit nervous that she’d get fractious during the flight.
Fortunately she nodded off as soon as the plane took off, and the flight was smooth and uneventful. We had two and a half hours to till in Milan until our flight to Brindisi, so our main priority was finding somewhere to sit down and eat. After trundling around the airport, accidentally leaving the transfer area and having to go back through security, going up and down several lifts and along a few corridors, we eventually found a snack bar/restaurant that, though quiet, was still serving.
The waitress couldn’t have been more accommodating and immediately suggested a plain risotto (not on the menu) for E, while my husband (W) ordered chicken fillet with mushrooms and potatoes, and I had a caprese salad. E was ever so excited when her risotto arrived, and gobbled down a good helping, before wriggling off my lap and setting off to explore the restaurant. As there were no other diners there we were happy for her to stretch her legs while she could. W enjoyed a glass of excellent Sicilian red wine and we both managed to fit in an espresso before heading off to the gate for our flight to Brindisi, feeling relaxed and confident that the second leg of the journey would be a breeze.
We couldn’t have been more wrong. The second flight was full and the plane was extremely hot and stuffy, with cramped seats and minimal leg room. With E on my lap, I was trying my hardest to find a position in which her feet weren’t hitting the back of the seat in front of her, but E was terribly hot and uncomfortable and it wasn’t long before she started crying.
Aargh. What do you do, when you can’t stand up or sit comfortably, and your child is too little to understand why she has to sit bunched up on your lap with a seatbelt tied round her? (OK, the answer is probably “don’t take your kids on the plane”, but it was too late for that!!)
There were a couple of other toddlers on the flight who sounded just as miserable as E, so I didn’t feel quite so bad, but I was so glad when we finally landed. When I stood up, with E still crying in my arms, I expected my fellow passengers to be looking daggers at us but it was quite the opposite! So many of them were smiling understandingly, or trying to tickle E’s toes to cheer her up, or waving and cooing at her. I was really surprised – and then I remembered what many of my friends had told me: They love kids in Italy!
Once we were off the plane, E calmed down and we quickly picked up our hire car (a Nissan Qashqai, rented from Avis via AutoEurope, approx 250 euros for the week), programmed our GPS with the address of the B&B, and headed off on our way.
About half way into the journey, the GPS (integrated into W’s phone/PDA) ran out of juice, but we’d remembered to print out directions with Google maps before leaving so we figured we’d be fine.
(A word of advice here: never rely on printed directions from Google maps. You will get lost. Especially in the dark.)
We took the wrong exit from the dual carriageway, drove around the countryside in the dark for a while, wondered desperately what road we were on, tried to get back onto the dual carriageway and drove along some kind of service road for several km, then managed to get back onto the main road before taking another wrong exit. Eventually we stopped at a service station to ask directions and, fortunately, one of the men working there knew the B&B and gave us detailed instructions as to how to get there. I was very glad to be able to speak Italian at this point, as had I not been able to, I don’t know how we’d have got there.
When our car finally drew up outside the masseria, the place looked absolutely beautiful, surrounded by olive groves, the pool twinkling and reflecting the lamplight. The owners weren’t there to welcome us, but another staff member showed us to our accommodation: we’d booked what was termed as a suite/apartment, rather than just a room, as we wanted a bit of extra space for E, plus the possibility of cooking meals and storing food.
We weren’t disappointed, as we were led across the garden to a gorgeous lamplit covered terrace with dining table, sofas and comfy chairs, which I realised was for our sole use. The main door led into a pleasant lounge, tastefully decorated, with two daybeds/sofas, armchair, TV and DVD, stereo, and a huge low, wooden table. A quick scan around confirmed that the place would be fairly baby-friendly, as all the furniture was solid and heavy, and there were few sharp edges or breakables within reach. The lounge led onto a small kitchenette around a corner, while another door led onto the bedroom. They had set up a travel cot for E, which was a nice surprise as I had understood that they couldn’t provide one. The bedroom led onto a smallish but smart wet-room.
We settled E down in the cot (she’d been fast asleep since Brindisi) and sat down on the terrace to enjoy a glass of wine and start looking forward to our first week’s holiday in ages.
We stayed at a gorgeous bed & breakfast in an old masseria (traditional fortified farmhouse) near Ostuni, which I found after trawling through many holiday rental sites on the web. www.larascina.it
It was our first “proper” holiday with our little daughter, now 14 months old, so a lot of our old holiday routines – such as long lies, lazy lunches and gastronomic dinners – were replaced by early morning wake-up calls, ziplock baggies full of toddler snacks and child-friendly restaurants. However, we had a fabulous time and discovered, as many others have before us, that the Italians just adore children and are incredibly tolerant and welcoming!
We live in Brussels and flew to Brindisi via Milan with Alitalia. We could have flown direct with budget airline Ryanair but I find their baggage allowances too small for us plus baby, given all the paraphernalia we end up carting around. I also looked into an Italian no-frills airline called Myair that also ran a direct Brussels-Bari flight, but decided that these small airlines are a bit risky as they seem to go bust as quickly as they pop up. Turned out my hunch was right, as Myair’s operations have recently been suspended.
<b>Day 1: getting there, getting wound up, and getting lost</b>
Our flight to Milan with Alitalia left at 2pm. This was only the second time we’d flown with our little girl (E) so we were a bit nervous that she’d get fractious during the flight.
Fortunately she nodded off as soon as the plane took off, and the flight was smooth and uneventful. We had two and a half hours to till in Milan until our flight to Brindisi, so our main priority was finding somewhere to sit down and eat. After trundling around the airport, accidentally leaving the transfer area and having to go back through security, going up and down several lifts and along a few corridors, we eventually found a snack bar/restaurant that, though quiet, was still serving.
The waitress couldn’t have been more accommodating and immediately suggested a plain risotto (not on the menu) for E, while my husband (W) ordered chicken fillet with mushrooms and potatoes, and I had a caprese salad. E was ever so excited when her risotto arrived, and gobbled down a good helping, before wriggling off my lap and setting off to explore the restaurant. As there were no other diners there we were happy for her to stretch her legs while she could. W enjoyed a glass of excellent Sicilian red wine and we both managed to fit in an espresso before heading off to the gate for our flight to Brindisi, feeling relaxed and confident that the second leg of the journey would be a breeze.
We couldn’t have been more wrong. The second flight was full and the plane was extremely hot and stuffy, with cramped seats and minimal leg room. With E on my lap, I was trying my hardest to find a position in which her feet weren’t hitting the back of the seat in front of her, but E was terribly hot and uncomfortable and it wasn’t long before she started crying.
Aargh. What do you do, when you can’t stand up or sit comfortably, and your child is too little to understand why she has to sit bunched up on your lap with a seatbelt tied round her? (OK, the answer is probably “don’t take your kids on the plane”, but it was too late for that!!)
There were a couple of other toddlers on the flight who sounded just as miserable as E, so I didn’t feel quite so bad, but I was so glad when we finally landed. When I stood up, with E still crying in my arms, I expected my fellow passengers to be looking daggers at us but it was quite the opposite! So many of them were smiling understandingly, or trying to tickle E’s toes to cheer her up, or waving and cooing at her. I was really surprised – and then I remembered what many of my friends had told me: They love kids in Italy!
Once we were off the plane, E calmed down and we quickly picked up our hire car (a Nissan Qashqai, rented from Avis via AutoEurope, approx 250 euros for the week), programmed our GPS with the address of the B&B, and headed off on our way.
About half way into the journey, the GPS (integrated into W’s phone/PDA) ran out of juice, but we’d remembered to print out directions with Google maps before leaving so we figured we’d be fine.
(A word of advice here: never rely on printed directions from Google maps. You will get lost. Especially in the dark.)
We took the wrong exit from the dual carriageway, drove around the countryside in the dark for a while, wondered desperately what road we were on, tried to get back onto the dual carriageway and drove along some kind of service road for several km, then managed to get back onto the main road before taking another wrong exit. Eventually we stopped at a service station to ask directions and, fortunately, one of the men working there knew the B&B and gave us detailed instructions as to how to get there. I was very glad to be able to speak Italian at this point, as had I not been able to, I don’t know how we’d have got there.
When our car finally drew up outside the masseria, the place looked absolutely beautiful, surrounded by olive groves, the pool twinkling and reflecting the lamplight. The owners weren’t there to welcome us, but another staff member showed us to our accommodation: we’d booked what was termed as a suite/apartment, rather than just a room, as we wanted a bit of extra space for E, plus the possibility of cooking meals and storing food.
We weren’t disappointed, as we were led across the garden to a gorgeous lamplit covered terrace with dining table, sofas and comfy chairs, which I realised was for our sole use. The main door led into a pleasant lounge, tastefully decorated, with two daybeds/sofas, armchair, TV and DVD, stereo, and a huge low, wooden table. A quick scan around confirmed that the place would be fairly baby-friendly, as all the furniture was solid and heavy, and there were few sharp edges or breakables within reach. The lounge led onto a small kitchenette around a corner, while another door led onto the bedroom. They had set up a travel cot for E, which was a nice surprise as I had understood that they couldn’t provide one. The bedroom led onto a smallish but smart wet-room.
We settled E down in the cot (she’d been fast asleep since Brindisi) and sat down on the terrace to enjoy a glass of wine and start looking forward to our first week’s holiday in ages.
Sep 30th, 2009, 06:21 PM
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Looking forward to hearing more. I was getting jealous of your smooth plane ride until I read on. Glad you survived. we are hoping our flight in two weeks with an almost 3yr old will be better but I'm doubtful.
Oct 2nd, 2009, 02:26 AM
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Thanks for your comments! Sally30, I hope your flight goes OK.
<b>Day 2: Stocking up Italian style, and taking it easy</b>
E woke up at silly o'clock and after pretending not to notice the giggling and squealing for as long as we could, we eventually dragged ourselves out of bed around 6.30 a.m.
E was full of beans and we were desperate for some caffeine to give us a bit of a boost (enough to keep up with her mad careering around the coffee table) but sadly the kitchen cupboards were bare. I had been meaning to pack a few tea bags and spoonfuls of coffee but I had been so busy filling bags with raisins, pots of apple sauce and toddler-friendly biscuits that I completely forgot, so we had to make do with some of the leftover brioche that E had rejected on the journey over. Sugar rush not quite as effective as caffeine rush, but it would have to suffice!
By around 8.30 am we figured that breakfast must be a possibility so we headed over to the main house where we saw that a large, communal breakfast table had been set up on a pretty covered terrace.
An Italian girl emerged from the kitchen and explained things were not quite ready, but it wasn't long before we were sitting at the table enjoying a lovely Italian-style breakfast of cappuccino, pastries, fruit and yoghurt.
E was happy because the Italian girl came over and gave her a biscuit and made a big fuss of her. Breakfast was also an opportunity to chat with some of the other guests, including a party of Australians on what sounded like a wonderful grand tour of southern Europe.
After breakfast, we met the owners of the B&B, Leonie and Paolo, who were quite charming. We discovered that a supermarket was open in nearby Ostuni so decided that our first priority should be to stock up the cupboards in our tiny kitchen. Detailed driving directions scribbled on a scrap of paper proved to be more useful than our GPS, and we found our way to the supermarket with only minimal wrong turns.
I love shopping in foreign supermarkets, especially Italian ones, so I had a fine time filling up our trolley with all manner of goodies including pasta, pesto, cheese (smoked scamorza being my péché mignon when in Italy), ham, cookies, wine, yoghurts, bread, and our newest discovery, <i>taralli pugliesi</i> (small, hard baked bread rings often studded with fennel seeds or onion pieces, and very tasty as a snack or to accompany our <i>aperitivi</i
.
Back at our little apartment we put together a lunch of bread, ham, tomatoes and cheese, and sat on the terrace soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying the views of the olive groves on one side and the swimming pool on the other. We'd brought a little travel booster seat for E which proved very handy, as E enjoyed being at the table with us rather than in a high chair.
We decided to stay put for the rest of the day and spent the afternoon playing with E, reading the Very Hungry Caterpillar and enjoying the occasional snooze. Dinner was pasta with pesto for all of us (though E had reserved a table at the first sitting, while we ate once she'd gone to bed).
Bath time for E proved to be a test of our inventiveness as there wasn't a bath tub, only a shower. In the end, we filled up the bidet and plonked her in it, and she was happy as a clam sitting in there playing with the miniature rubber duck I'd brought along. Both W and I got soaked, however, as every time she moved about a pint of water sloshed over the top of the bidet and onto our legs. Still, E splashing in the bidet is a picture I think I'll hold in my mind for a long time. Holidays with a toddler are clearly all about improvising!
<b>Day 3: A trip to the beach, and a visit to Ostuni</b>
Another early start, but this time we had tea and coffee in the cupboard to tide us over until breakfast was officially served.
After breakfast (where E was fussed and cooed over by all, and fed more biscuits, much to her delight), we decided that a trip to the beach was in order. We borrowed a parasol, packed up E's bucket and spade and headed off to the nearest beach at Pilone, about a ten-minute drive from the B&B.
This was my first real experience of Italian beaches: I was surprised to discover that as we were out of season, the car parking area was locked up and the whole place looked completely deserted. So we parked Italian style next to the closed gate, grabbed our beach bags and walked the 100 metres to the beach - a sandy stretch caught between rocks at either end, forming a pretty bay. The water was aquamarine and, despite a few dark patches of seaweed here and there, looked inviting.
There were only a couple of other people on the beach who (judging from their dark tans) looked as though they came for a swim and sunbathe every day.
This was E’s first ever trip to the beach and she was thrilled by everything – the water, the sand, the seashells, the sunshine, the bits of plastic that had been washed up by the tide, the cigarette butts in the sand…(OK I made that sound worse than it actually was, as the beach was pretty clean)
We spent a lovely couple of hours paddling and splashing and building sandcastles and collecting tiny shells. By lunchtime, it had started to cloud over so we headed back to the apartment for a bite to eat, before driving up to Ostuni for the afternoon, just as the rain started to fall.
We parked the car, bundled a sleeping E into the pushchair and set off into the <i>centro storico</i> of the town. Ostuni is known as the "white city", and the buildings in the old centre did live up to the name. The city is perched on a hill, visible from miles around as a cluster of white buildings capped by the cathedral tower. The streets were narrow and as we meandered up to the highest point of the town, we had to squeeze against the walls as a procession of funeral cars passed by, heading up to the cathedral. Understandably, the mood in the cathedral square was sombre, although we were amused to spot one member of the funeral party nipping in to the gelateria nearby for a quick ice cream cone before the service.
We took our time strolling through the streets, people watching and enjoying the pretty views of the countryside that Ostuni's lofty position afforded us. E slept on as we walked back down to the Piazza della Libertà for an espresso and an ice cream, before returning to the B&B. We had hoped to get takeout from a nearby restaurant that Paolo recommended to us, but it turned out it was closed on Mondays, so W had to return to the supermarket in Ostuni to stock up on some more food (and wine!) supplies for dinner.
Another al fresco meal was followed by a bit of channel surfing in the hope of finding a half-decent Italian TV programme to watch (we failed), and an early night. Tomorrow we'd be visiting some of the region's famous <i>trulli</i> dwellings.
<b>Day 2: Stocking up Italian style, and taking it easy</b>
E woke up at silly o'clock and after pretending not to notice the giggling and squealing for as long as we could, we eventually dragged ourselves out of bed around 6.30 a.m.
E was full of beans and we were desperate for some caffeine to give us a bit of a boost (enough to keep up with her mad careering around the coffee table) but sadly the kitchen cupboards were bare. I had been meaning to pack a few tea bags and spoonfuls of coffee but I had been so busy filling bags with raisins, pots of apple sauce and toddler-friendly biscuits that I completely forgot, so we had to make do with some of the leftover brioche that E had rejected on the journey over. Sugar rush not quite as effective as caffeine rush, but it would have to suffice!
By around 8.30 am we figured that breakfast must be a possibility so we headed over to the main house where we saw that a large, communal breakfast table had been set up on a pretty covered terrace.
An Italian girl emerged from the kitchen and explained things were not quite ready, but it wasn't long before we were sitting at the table enjoying a lovely Italian-style breakfast of cappuccino, pastries, fruit and yoghurt.
E was happy because the Italian girl came over and gave her a biscuit and made a big fuss of her. Breakfast was also an opportunity to chat with some of the other guests, including a party of Australians on what sounded like a wonderful grand tour of southern Europe.
After breakfast, we met the owners of the B&B, Leonie and Paolo, who were quite charming. We discovered that a supermarket was open in nearby Ostuni so decided that our first priority should be to stock up the cupboards in our tiny kitchen. Detailed driving directions scribbled on a scrap of paper proved to be more useful than our GPS, and we found our way to the supermarket with only minimal wrong turns.
I love shopping in foreign supermarkets, especially Italian ones, so I had a fine time filling up our trolley with all manner of goodies including pasta, pesto, cheese (smoked scamorza being my péché mignon when in Italy), ham, cookies, wine, yoghurts, bread, and our newest discovery, <i>taralli pugliesi</i> (small, hard baked bread rings often studded with fennel seeds or onion pieces, and very tasty as a snack or to accompany our <i>aperitivi</i
.Back at our little apartment we put together a lunch of bread, ham, tomatoes and cheese, and sat on the terrace soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying the views of the olive groves on one side and the swimming pool on the other. We'd brought a little travel booster seat for E which proved very handy, as E enjoyed being at the table with us rather than in a high chair.
We decided to stay put for the rest of the day and spent the afternoon playing with E, reading the Very Hungry Caterpillar and enjoying the occasional snooze. Dinner was pasta with pesto for all of us (though E had reserved a table at the first sitting, while we ate once she'd gone to bed).
Bath time for E proved to be a test of our inventiveness as there wasn't a bath tub, only a shower. In the end, we filled up the bidet and plonked her in it, and she was happy as a clam sitting in there playing with the miniature rubber duck I'd brought along. Both W and I got soaked, however, as every time she moved about a pint of water sloshed over the top of the bidet and onto our legs. Still, E splashing in the bidet is a picture I think I'll hold in my mind for a long time. Holidays with a toddler are clearly all about improvising!
<b>Day 3: A trip to the beach, and a visit to Ostuni</b>
Another early start, but this time we had tea and coffee in the cupboard to tide us over until breakfast was officially served.
After breakfast (where E was fussed and cooed over by all, and fed more biscuits, much to her delight), we decided that a trip to the beach was in order. We borrowed a parasol, packed up E's bucket and spade and headed off to the nearest beach at Pilone, about a ten-minute drive from the B&B.
This was my first real experience of Italian beaches: I was surprised to discover that as we were out of season, the car parking area was locked up and the whole place looked completely deserted. So we parked Italian style next to the closed gate, grabbed our beach bags and walked the 100 metres to the beach - a sandy stretch caught between rocks at either end, forming a pretty bay. The water was aquamarine and, despite a few dark patches of seaweed here and there, looked inviting.
There were only a couple of other people on the beach who (judging from their dark tans) looked as though they came for a swim and sunbathe every day.
This was E’s first ever trip to the beach and she was thrilled by everything – the water, the sand, the seashells, the sunshine, the bits of plastic that had been washed up by the tide, the cigarette butts in the sand…(OK I made that sound worse than it actually was, as the beach was pretty clean)
We spent a lovely couple of hours paddling and splashing and building sandcastles and collecting tiny shells. By lunchtime, it had started to cloud over so we headed back to the apartment for a bite to eat, before driving up to Ostuni for the afternoon, just as the rain started to fall.
We parked the car, bundled a sleeping E into the pushchair and set off into the <i>centro storico</i> of the town. Ostuni is known as the "white city", and the buildings in the old centre did live up to the name. The city is perched on a hill, visible from miles around as a cluster of white buildings capped by the cathedral tower. The streets were narrow and as we meandered up to the highest point of the town, we had to squeeze against the walls as a procession of funeral cars passed by, heading up to the cathedral. Understandably, the mood in the cathedral square was sombre, although we were amused to spot one member of the funeral party nipping in to the gelateria nearby for a quick ice cream cone before the service.
We took our time strolling through the streets, people watching and enjoying the pretty views of the countryside that Ostuni's lofty position afforded us. E slept on as we walked back down to the Piazza della Libertà for an espresso and an ice cream, before returning to the B&B. We had hoped to get takeout from a nearby restaurant that Paolo recommended to us, but it turned out it was closed on Mondays, so W had to return to the supermarket in Ostuni to stock up on some more food (and wine!) supplies for dinner.
Another al fresco meal was followed by a bit of channel surfing in the hope of finding a half-decent Italian TV programme to watch (we failed), and an early night. Tomorrow we'd be visiting some of the region's famous <i>trulli</i> dwellings.
Oct 6th, 2009, 11:29 PM
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<b>Day 4: Going round in circles in Locorotondo, and visiting the "hobbit houses" of Alberobello</b>
Today was Tuesday and it was time for us to go slightly further afield and visit some of the sights that this region of Puglia had to offer.
First on our list of places to visit was Locorotondo, whose name, meaning "round place" holds a clue to the layout of the town.
It was an easy drive from our B&B, through the town of Ostuni and along winding roads with pretty views and traditional <i>trullo</i> buildings dotted here and there along the route.
It took a couple of wrong turnings before we found our way to the <i>centro storico</i> of Locorotondo, but once there we found a parking space, deciphered the parking signs that told us to buy our ticket from one of the nearby shops, strapped a snoozing E into her baby carrier and set off to discover the town.
It's a small place, but charming, with white and pale golden stone buildings arranged in streets forming a circular pattern (hence the name of the town), archways, balconies overflowing with flowers and greenery, and, here and there, views of the surrounding countryside. It didn't take us long to walk around and after a quick stop at a little park/square for E to stretch her legs and make friends with a little Italian girl playing nearby, we headed back to the car and set off for our next destination, Alberobello.
The town is famous (and, I believe, is Puglia's number one tourist sight) for its <i>trulli</i> - small, squat houses built using a traditional dry stone technique, with distinctive conical roofs. Apparently, back in the 17th century, a devious local landowner insisted that dwellings be built in this fashion so that they could be quickly dismantled and taxes thus evaded. The trulli area is now a UNESCO world heritage site.
Alberobello was a short drive from Locorotondo. Thankfully, as we were out of season, we easily found somewhere to park the car and strolled across the street to the <i>zona dei trulli</i>, which was clearly recognisable thanks to the clusters of pointed roofs dotted up the hill. Clouds had started to gather and the sky was darkening with the threat of rain.
No problem, we thought. We'll head straight to the Locanda dal Gallo, a pleasant sounding eatery with a good write-up in our French guide book (<i>Le Routard</i. We nipped into the little tourist office and grabbed a map, promptly went the wrong way, found the street we were looking for, and walked up and down it several times without seeing hide nor hair of the restaurant.
Eventually I asked an old lady sitting outside a souvenir shop, and she pointed us in the right direction (we'd walked past the place three times without noticing it!). It had started raining properly by now so we were pleased to get to the restaurant, only to discover it was closed!
We flicked through our guidebooks again but they only seemed to have recommendations for posh eateries (not what we wanted) or places that were a long walk away. We'd gone past a few trattorias earlier but they'd all been pretty empty and hadn't looked very appealing. After another ten minutes of wandering around in the rain, we decided that our main priority was to get something to eat, and if that meant lunching in a tacky touristy trullo restaurant then so be it.
We came across a trattoria located in a trullo at the top of one of the touristy streets. Poking our noses in, it seemed decent, if quiet, so in we went. Unexpectedly, they produced a high chair for E, and the menu offered penne with pesto (her favourite), while I ordered orecchiete con cima de rapa (pasta with broccoli raab) and W had orecchiete with tomato and caciocavallo cheese.
All the other diners were Italian, and all were tucking into large plates of antipasti and pasta all around us. However, our days of lingering over antipasto platters and ordering primi, secondi and contorni were over, for now, as our main aim was to get food into all three of us before E got antsy and started flinging pasta around. The service was fairly quick and we all managed to get fed, watered (and wined and coffeed) before E got too frustrated with the situation.
Fortunately the restaurant wasn't too busy, so our to-ing and fro-ing taking E outside to run around didn't bother anybody.
Lunch over, the skies had cleared somewhat, and we set off to explore the town properly. The trulli dwellings are quite unique and look a lot like little hobbit houses and, unsurprisingly, this has made the town a real tourist trap in places, with many of the houses converted into souvenir shops selling all manner of trinkets and tat.
We wandered away up the hill a little, away from the busier area, and found ourselves in a little street with trulli on either side, alone except for a yapping yellow dog. E was intrigued by the dog and, as we watched it (from a safe distance), a little old lady appeared at the top of the street and immediately began waving and cooing at E.
We walked over and the lady started chatting away in Italian, parts of which I managed to understand. I got the feeling she was inviting us to come inside and have a look at her trullo home, so, not wanting to be rude, we went in.
Inside, the house had two small rooms – a main living/dining room, with an alcove at the back, and a sparsely furnished bedroom. She insisted we sit on the sofa so she could take a picture of us (I had realised by now we were far from being the first tourists she'd invited into her home!) and then told us a bit about the house; it was several centuries old, had been in her family for more generations than she could count, and she'd lived there all her life. I twigged that she would probably appreciate a small "donation" and so asked her if we could leave her "something for her kindness". She didn't insist, but we left a few coins in a strategically placed basket on the table.
We continued on our stroll through the trulli, as the streets got busier and busier, the tour buses having arrived at the foot of the hill and disgorged their loads of visitors; there were so many of them, that each of them wore a badge with the number of their tour group on it, and followed obediently behind a flag-waving tour guide.
By this point it was all getting a bit much, so we decided to head out of the trulli area and across to the opposite hill, where there was a nice viewpoint looking out over the trulli and, beyond, the central town square with a carrousel, cafés and an extraordinary series of structures that seemed to be housing decorative illuminations.
The rain clouds had gathered once more so we headed back down to the car park and set off back to the B&B.
That evening, rather than cook dinner, W headed to the "local" restaurant, Da Maurizio in nearby Villa Nova, and brought back spaghetti ai frutti di mare and a tasty grilled vegetable pizza. We washed it down with a good Sicilian red wine, and called it a night.
Today was Tuesday and it was time for us to go slightly further afield and visit some of the sights that this region of Puglia had to offer.
First on our list of places to visit was Locorotondo, whose name, meaning "round place" holds a clue to the layout of the town.
It was an easy drive from our B&B, through the town of Ostuni and along winding roads with pretty views and traditional <i>trullo</i> buildings dotted here and there along the route.
It took a couple of wrong turnings before we found our way to the <i>centro storico</i> of Locorotondo, but once there we found a parking space, deciphered the parking signs that told us to buy our ticket from one of the nearby shops, strapped a snoozing E into her baby carrier and set off to discover the town.
It's a small place, but charming, with white and pale golden stone buildings arranged in streets forming a circular pattern (hence the name of the town), archways, balconies overflowing with flowers and greenery, and, here and there, views of the surrounding countryside. It didn't take us long to walk around and after a quick stop at a little park/square for E to stretch her legs and make friends with a little Italian girl playing nearby, we headed back to the car and set off for our next destination, Alberobello.
The town is famous (and, I believe, is Puglia's number one tourist sight) for its <i>trulli</i> - small, squat houses built using a traditional dry stone technique, with distinctive conical roofs. Apparently, back in the 17th century, a devious local landowner insisted that dwellings be built in this fashion so that they could be quickly dismantled and taxes thus evaded. The trulli area is now a UNESCO world heritage site.
Alberobello was a short drive from Locorotondo. Thankfully, as we were out of season, we easily found somewhere to park the car and strolled across the street to the <i>zona dei trulli</i>, which was clearly recognisable thanks to the clusters of pointed roofs dotted up the hill. Clouds had started to gather and the sky was darkening with the threat of rain.
No problem, we thought. We'll head straight to the Locanda dal Gallo, a pleasant sounding eatery with a good write-up in our French guide book (<i>Le Routard</i
. We nipped into the little tourist office and grabbed a map, promptly went the wrong way, found the street we were looking for, and walked up and down it several times without seeing hide nor hair of the restaurant. Eventually I asked an old lady sitting outside a souvenir shop, and she pointed us in the right direction (we'd walked past the place three times without noticing it!). It had started raining properly by now so we were pleased to get to the restaurant, only to discover it was closed!
We flicked through our guidebooks again but they only seemed to have recommendations for posh eateries (not what we wanted) or places that were a long walk away. We'd gone past a few trattorias earlier but they'd all been pretty empty and hadn't looked very appealing. After another ten minutes of wandering around in the rain, we decided that our main priority was to get something to eat, and if that meant lunching in a tacky touristy trullo restaurant then so be it.
We came across a trattoria located in a trullo at the top of one of the touristy streets. Poking our noses in, it seemed decent, if quiet, so in we went. Unexpectedly, they produced a high chair for E, and the menu offered penne with pesto (her favourite), while I ordered orecchiete con cima de rapa (pasta with broccoli raab) and W had orecchiete with tomato and caciocavallo cheese.
All the other diners were Italian, and all were tucking into large plates of antipasti and pasta all around us. However, our days of lingering over antipasto platters and ordering primi, secondi and contorni were over, for now, as our main aim was to get food into all three of us before E got antsy and started flinging pasta around. The service was fairly quick and we all managed to get fed, watered (and wined and coffeed) before E got too frustrated with the situation.
Fortunately the restaurant wasn't too busy, so our to-ing and fro-ing taking E outside to run around didn't bother anybody.
Lunch over, the skies had cleared somewhat, and we set off to explore the town properly. The trulli dwellings are quite unique and look a lot like little hobbit houses and, unsurprisingly, this has made the town a real tourist trap in places, with many of the houses converted into souvenir shops selling all manner of trinkets and tat.
We wandered away up the hill a little, away from the busier area, and found ourselves in a little street with trulli on either side, alone except for a yapping yellow dog. E was intrigued by the dog and, as we watched it (from a safe distance), a little old lady appeared at the top of the street and immediately began waving and cooing at E.
We walked over and the lady started chatting away in Italian, parts of which I managed to understand. I got the feeling she was inviting us to come inside and have a look at her trullo home, so, not wanting to be rude, we went in.
Inside, the house had two small rooms – a main living/dining room, with an alcove at the back, and a sparsely furnished bedroom. She insisted we sit on the sofa so she could take a picture of us (I had realised by now we were far from being the first tourists she'd invited into her home!) and then told us a bit about the house; it was several centuries old, had been in her family for more generations than she could count, and she'd lived there all her life. I twigged that she would probably appreciate a small "donation" and so asked her if we could leave her "something for her kindness". She didn't insist, but we left a few coins in a strategically placed basket on the table.
We continued on our stroll through the trulli, as the streets got busier and busier, the tour buses having arrived at the foot of the hill and disgorged their loads of visitors; there were so many of them, that each of them wore a badge with the number of their tour group on it, and followed obediently behind a flag-waving tour guide.
By this point it was all getting a bit much, so we decided to head out of the trulli area and across to the opposite hill, where there was a nice viewpoint looking out over the trulli and, beyond, the central town square with a carrousel, cafés and an extraordinary series of structures that seemed to be housing decorative illuminations.
The rain clouds had gathered once more so we headed back down to the car park and set off back to the B&B.
That evening, rather than cook dinner, W headed to the "local" restaurant, Da Maurizio in nearby Villa Nova, and brought back spaghetti ai frutti di mare and a tasty grilled vegetable pizza. We washed it down with a good Sicilian red wine, and called it a night.
Oct 7th, 2009, 04:02 AM
#9
hi hanl,
great start to your report. taking kids to Italy is a revelation for those of us from places that seem to view them as nuisances most of the time.
the B&B looks lovely - can you give us an idea of what you paid as the website is silent as to cost?
looking forward to more,
regards, ann
great start to your report. taking kids to Italy is a revelation for those of us from places that seem to view them as nuisances most of the time.
the B&B looks lovely - can you give us an idea of what you paid as the website is silent as to cost?
looking forward to more,
regards, ann
Oct 7th, 2009, 10:45 AM
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Ann, we paid around 950 euros (if I remember rightly) for the suite for the week, so not cheap, though I assume the B&B rooms would be less expensive, obviously. For us it was worth the price as we thought it was such a lovely place (and we wanted to treat ourselves as our other week away this year was done on the cheap!)
And yes, I think "revelation" is the perfect word for it
And yes, I think "revelation" is the perfect word for it
Oct 7th, 2009, 05:01 PM
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I always love your reports, thanks.
Although you don't do the dinners like you use to,and I'm sure you will do again, you get good take out, I never did that from a restaurant in Italy or France, good tip!
Although you don't do the dinners like you use to,and I'm sure you will do again, you get good take out, I never did that from a restaurant in Italy or France, good tip!
Oct 7th, 2009, 06:38 PM
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Hanl, although I never was in Italy with a little one as you were I know how Italians love children. And I so am loving your trip report including the elderly woman who invited you into her home, that was so interesting.
Oct 7th, 2009, 07:44 PM
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Hanl,
I'm enjoying your report & have appreciated your contributions for a long time (we frequent Lyon).
Our kids travel with us 1-2 times/year from US to Europe and have since birth (they just turned 3 & 4 years). They bring with them a number of new challenges, but add so much more value to our holidays. Fewer Michelin stars, more cafes, parks and beaches.
I can also say with some certainty, from experience, that your baby would be very warmly welcomed in Spain.
I'm enjoying your report & have appreciated your contributions for a long time (we frequent Lyon).
Our kids travel with us 1-2 times/year from US to Europe and have since birth (they just turned 3 & 4 years). They bring with them a number of new challenges, but add so much more value to our holidays. Fewer Michelin stars, more cafes, parks and beaches.
I can also say with some certainty, from experience, that your baby would be very warmly welcomed in Spain.
Oct 7th, 2009, 09:23 PM
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Thank you, it's so nice to read your feedback!
It's been interesting just how many more people we have met and interacted with since we had our little one. I think we met more Italians on this trip than on the last three put together.
Ekscrunchy, what a coincidence that you have been considering the same B&B! I'd certainly recommend it as a great place to stay.
Josh, yes, we'd love to take E to Spain in the not-too-distant future!
It's been interesting just how many more people we have met and interacted with since we had our little one. I think we met more Italians on this trip than on the last three put together.
Ekscrunchy, what a coincidence that you have been considering the same B&B! I'd certainly recommend it as a great place to stay.
Josh, yes, we'd love to take E to Spain in the not-too-distant future!
Oct 8th, 2009, 11:37 PM
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<b>Day 5: Another trip to the beach, camera crews and gelato in Polignano a Mare</b>
To our immense surprise, E slept in until almost 8 o'clock – never before had she slept so long, and we were extremely greatful for the "long lie" (funny how your perceptions of what constitutes a "lie in" change when you have a baby).
The day was warm and the sun was shining, and after breakfast (during which more cuddles and biscuits were dispensed to E while we sipped cappuccino and tucked into those devilishly sweet Italian pastries), we decided we should make the most of the good weather and head to the beach.
The nicest one in the vicinity lay, we were told, at Torre Guaceto, a protected marine reserve area. But be warned, said Paolo, there's absolutely nothing there, nowhere to get drinks or anything like that. Hurrah, I thought, that's just how I like my beaches – undeveloped and unspoiled.
[<i>A quick Google brought up this Telegraph newspaper article on Torre Guaceto:</i> http://tinyurl.com/cpwrsb]
Torre Guaceto was an easy 20 minute drive along the fast dual carriageway that runs along the coast between Bari and Brindisi. The car park was right by the main road, and after paying our 3 euros parking/entrance fee, we set off down the lane towards the beach.
The parking attendant had told us to make sure we turned right at the bottom of the road, not left, as there was a movie set in the midst of filming. We were intrigued (or just nosy), so as we neared the beach we craned our necks to get a better glimpse of what they might be filming, but we couldn't see much unfortunately.
The walk from the car to the beach was about 300 metres, and soon we emerged through the dunes and onto a lovely long stretch of sand, with turquoise waters and a few people sitting here and there.
The weather was perfect, not too hot or too cold, a slight breeze, and the water was deliciously warm – just right for splashing and paddling with a little one. It being a protected marine reserve, fishing was obviously prohibited in the area and we could see plenty of fish (tiddlers, fortunately) swimming around in the sparkingly clear water.
E enjoyed being bounced up and down in the water and sitting in the shallows with her bucket and spade, squidging the sand between her fingers and toes.
The morning passed quickly and before we knew it, lunchtime was upon us, the sun was getting hot, and it was time to return to the B&B. A picnic lunch of cold pizza, cheese, ham and salad turned out, somewhat surprisingly, to be much to E's taste, as she amazed us by guzzling down rocket leaves, raw red onion, smoked scamorza and slivers of speck. Clearly, she was becoming more Italian by the minute.
After an espresso, a few Italian cookies and a bit of relaxation time, we decided to head off to Polignano a Mare, a town whose description had caught my eye in the guidebook ("one of the most photogenic towns in all of Puglia").
Again, it was an easy drive from where we were staying (we were beginning to truly appreciate the good location of the B&B), although once we got into the town we took a while to locate a parking spot that wasn't blocked off by the police due to some kind of procession that was to take place in the town that evening. Eventually we found a spot, paid for a ticket and set off into the old town with E fast asleep in the baby carrier.
Polignano is certainly a pretty town, with its old centre clinging to a rocky outcrop, the sea below carving away at the soft rock to the extent that many caves and grottos have formed. (Indeed, Polignano's best known restaurant – which we didn't visit - is located in a such a cave, carved out of the cliff wall beneath the Hotel Grotta Palazzese).
We took our time wandering through the narrow streets, enjoying the mellow afternoon light reflecting off the soft stone walls of the town. Every now and the we would emerge onto a balcony or viewpoint looking out over the sea; amusingly, everywhere we went we also stumbled across a camera crew shooting scenes of a young couple (it looked like a promotional video for Polignano). Clearly, today was a bumper day for film sets in Puglia!
E eventually woke up as we continued to wander around the town, eventually emerging at the edge of the old quarter and right opposite Il Super Mago del Gelato, which both guidebooks (in French and English) recommended as <i>the</i> place to go for ices in Polignano, if not Puglia.
It didn't seem to be a sit-down sort of an ice-cream parlour, so (after giggling over the fact that the camera crew were now filming the actor couple leaning against the bar looking suggestively at their ice cream cones) we ordered our cornetti to go: coffee for me, and melon for W.
In a sudden flash of inspiration, I asked for them cream with both, and was interested to discover that they filled the <i>cone</i> with the whipped cream, then added the scoop of gelato, and then dipped the whole thing back in the cream again. I thought this was utter genius, as instead of having to eat our way through all the cream before getting to the gelato, we could have a bit of both in every bite. And the cream in the cone stopped the ice-cream from sliding down and dripping out of the end. I have no idea if this is how they do it all over Italy, but I now wish all ice cream shops in Brussels served their ices the same way!!
We strolled back to the car, licking our ice creams and sharing with E who seemed to prefer coffee flavour over melon. The drive back was fast and we found ourselves back at the B&B with enough time for me to take a dip in the pool before dinner. The water was cooler than the sea had been that morning, and the pool was deep, but I enjoyed swimming a few lengths and having a bit of me time in which to empty my head of "mummy" thoughts for a while.
Dinner for E that evening was stir-fried chicken with tomatoes, peppers and mushrooms, and mashed potatoes with pesto, all of which she turned her nose up at (oh well, you win some, you lose some!). The newest skill she had acquired since the start of the holiday was to shake her head no and say "nah" – and she was making the most of it by saying no to everything. I suppose one has to practice these things, so we let her get on with it!
That evening we borrowed a DVD from the main house and sat down with our own platefuls of chicken and veg in front of the TV to watch Baz Luhrmann's Australia, which I'm afraid we thought was pretty dreadful and so gave up on it half way through!
To our immense surprise, E slept in until almost 8 o'clock – never before had she slept so long, and we were extremely greatful for the "long lie" (funny how your perceptions of what constitutes a "lie in" change when you have a baby).
The day was warm and the sun was shining, and after breakfast (during which more cuddles and biscuits were dispensed to E while we sipped cappuccino and tucked into those devilishly sweet Italian pastries), we decided we should make the most of the good weather and head to the beach.
The nicest one in the vicinity lay, we were told, at Torre Guaceto, a protected marine reserve area. But be warned, said Paolo, there's absolutely nothing there, nowhere to get drinks or anything like that. Hurrah, I thought, that's just how I like my beaches – undeveloped and unspoiled.
[<i>A quick Google brought up this Telegraph newspaper article on Torre Guaceto:</i> http://tinyurl.com/cpwrsb]
Torre Guaceto was an easy 20 minute drive along the fast dual carriageway that runs along the coast between Bari and Brindisi. The car park was right by the main road, and after paying our 3 euros parking/entrance fee, we set off down the lane towards the beach.
The parking attendant had told us to make sure we turned right at the bottom of the road, not left, as there was a movie set in the midst of filming. We were intrigued (or just nosy), so as we neared the beach we craned our necks to get a better glimpse of what they might be filming, but we couldn't see much unfortunately.
The walk from the car to the beach was about 300 metres, and soon we emerged through the dunes and onto a lovely long stretch of sand, with turquoise waters and a few people sitting here and there.
The weather was perfect, not too hot or too cold, a slight breeze, and the water was deliciously warm – just right for splashing and paddling with a little one. It being a protected marine reserve, fishing was obviously prohibited in the area and we could see plenty of fish (tiddlers, fortunately) swimming around in the sparkingly clear water.
E enjoyed being bounced up and down in the water and sitting in the shallows with her bucket and spade, squidging the sand between her fingers and toes.
The morning passed quickly and before we knew it, lunchtime was upon us, the sun was getting hot, and it was time to return to the B&B. A picnic lunch of cold pizza, cheese, ham and salad turned out, somewhat surprisingly, to be much to E's taste, as she amazed us by guzzling down rocket leaves, raw red onion, smoked scamorza and slivers of speck. Clearly, she was becoming more Italian by the minute.
After an espresso, a few Italian cookies and a bit of relaxation time, we decided to head off to Polignano a Mare, a town whose description had caught my eye in the guidebook ("one of the most photogenic towns in all of Puglia").
Again, it was an easy drive from where we were staying (we were beginning to truly appreciate the good location of the B&B), although once we got into the town we took a while to locate a parking spot that wasn't blocked off by the police due to some kind of procession that was to take place in the town that evening. Eventually we found a spot, paid for a ticket and set off into the old town with E fast asleep in the baby carrier.
Polignano is certainly a pretty town, with its old centre clinging to a rocky outcrop, the sea below carving away at the soft rock to the extent that many caves and grottos have formed. (Indeed, Polignano's best known restaurant – which we didn't visit - is located in a such a cave, carved out of the cliff wall beneath the Hotel Grotta Palazzese).
We took our time wandering through the narrow streets, enjoying the mellow afternoon light reflecting off the soft stone walls of the town. Every now and the we would emerge onto a balcony or viewpoint looking out over the sea; amusingly, everywhere we went we also stumbled across a camera crew shooting scenes of a young couple (it looked like a promotional video for Polignano). Clearly, today was a bumper day for film sets in Puglia!
E eventually woke up as we continued to wander around the town, eventually emerging at the edge of the old quarter and right opposite Il Super Mago del Gelato, which both guidebooks (in French and English) recommended as <i>the</i> place to go for ices in Polignano, if not Puglia.
It didn't seem to be a sit-down sort of an ice-cream parlour, so (after giggling over the fact that the camera crew were now filming the actor couple leaning against the bar looking suggestively at their ice cream cones) we ordered our cornetti to go: coffee for me, and melon for W.
In a sudden flash of inspiration, I asked for them cream with both, and was interested to discover that they filled the <i>cone</i> with the whipped cream, then added the scoop of gelato, and then dipped the whole thing back in the cream again. I thought this was utter genius, as instead of having to eat our way through all the cream before getting to the gelato, we could have a bit of both in every bite. And the cream in the cone stopped the ice-cream from sliding down and dripping out of the end. I have no idea if this is how they do it all over Italy, but I now wish all ice cream shops in Brussels served their ices the same way!!
We strolled back to the car, licking our ice creams and sharing with E who seemed to prefer coffee flavour over melon. The drive back was fast and we found ourselves back at the B&B with enough time for me to take a dip in the pool before dinner. The water was cooler than the sea had been that morning, and the pool was deep, but I enjoyed swimming a few lengths and having a bit of me time in which to empty my head of "mummy" thoughts for a while.
Dinner for E that evening was stir-fried chicken with tomatoes, peppers and mushrooms, and mashed potatoes with pesto, all of which she turned her nose up at (oh well, you win some, you lose some!). The newest skill she had acquired since the start of the holiday was to shake her head no and say "nah" – and she was making the most of it by saying no to everything. I suppose one has to practice these things, so we let her get on with it!
That evening we borrowed a DVD from the main house and sat down with our own platefuls of chicken and veg in front of the TV to watch Baz Luhrmann's Australia, which I'm afraid we thought was pretty dreadful and so gave up on it half way through!
