Saturday,
May 05, 2007
The
ANNOTICO Report
Apulia
has come a LONG ways, but it is not close to being the New or Next Tuscany that
Tourist agents tout it, BUT then there ARE rustic old farmhouses south of Bari
that were being converted into cushy resorts, and there are "masseria', former fortified
farmhouses that have very pleasant accommodations, , and of course Alberobello, designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in
recognition of its dense cluster of trulli, the
eccentric conical structures that dot the countryside south of Bari. They date
back at least to the Middle Ages.
Not
to be picky, but I found it quite odd, that one of the "Masserias" at Torre Coccaro,
was built to resemble of ALL things, a Polynesian beach, replete with little
thatch-roofed huts. :) :)
We were bound for
a farmhouse, and I had my doubts.
Like many
seasoned travelers, Id been burned by the promise of rustic lodging with multistar amenities, a happy-sounding combination that
often meant a working telephone in a stone chamber otherwise untouched by
progress and its attendant conveniences, like reliable plumbing and regular
maid service.
And the lodging
in question was in the southern Italian region of
So when my friend
Sylvie told me that old farmhouses less than an hours drive south of
Early one
afternoon last September, we pulled up to our agrarian idyll, and I searched in
vain for any traces of a farmhouse in the airbrushed campus of smooth
whitewashed buildings before us. The buildings were fringed by palm trees and
latticed by tidy gravel paths. Off to their side glittered a huge, pristine
swimming pool with a slatted wood deck. Beyond that, on the grounds of a sister
farmhouse, the candlelit rooms of a full-service spa meandered
through an underground cave of sorts.
We mentioned to
the hotel staff that we were hungry, and within minutes pressed panini of mozzarella and prosciutto along with glasses of inky, fruity red
wine were being placed on our table
in a sleek lounge area with all-white furniture and lulling cross breezes.
This was pure
luxury. It was also a barometer of what was happening in
The
Its no
wonder that, in conversation and print, Apulia is so frequently called the new
or next Tuscany, a tired, trite sobriquet that will no doubt be trotted out for
obscure Basilicata and hapless Molise two of the countrys poorest, least
visited regions if we just wait
long enough.
But youll find no
What you will
find, in place of big revelations, is an accretion of the small, quiet moments
that can be so rare in more trammeled patches of
In sleepy Trani, which is like Portofino on Quaaludes, youll stumble across the Cathedral of St. Nicholas the
Pilgrim, a tawny, asymmetric Romanesque church completed in 1143 and set
against an unusually vivid backdrop: the turquoise waters of the southern Adriatic.
Youll peek inside the church
and, unless its the height of tourist season, notice something
extraordinary. Youve got the place to
yourself.
In Lecce,
youll ring the bell at Cucina
Casareccia, where everyone has told you to have
dinner, but youll wonder if you have the right
address, because theres no clear sign out front and the door is locked. An
older woman opens it, checks to make sure you have a reservation and leads you
to one of no more than a dozen tables.
Perhaps 10
minutes later, she pulls up a chair so she can sit while she tells you, in
Italian so patiently enunciated that almost anyone with a phrase book could
follow along, whats being served that night. The marinated yellow peppers
that kick off the meal are some of the sweetest you can ever hope to have. The
veal meatballs that come later are some of the juiciest.
And on the paths
to and from almost everywhere you go, youll see
what rapidly emerges as the defining image of Apulia, a scene that charms
instead of dazzling, which is partly why it distills the region so well. A
grove of aged olive trees, their branches and trunks as gnarled as nature gets,
spread out behind one of the squat stone fences that seem to be countless in
number and endless in reach. A lot of brawn has gone into this countryside,
where a disproportionate amount of
Its
not only subtler but also more demanding. Unless youre a beach bum content to
plant yourself on a few square feet of sand along Apulias western or
eastern coastline as the
spiky-tipped heel of the Italian boot,
Theres no
one city that can keep you fully engaged for more than a few days or makes an
ideal base from which to take short, easy day trips.
Over the course
of a week in Apulia, Sylvie and I drove and drove, seldom sure exactly where to
stop, because
We knew we had to
visit Alberobello, designated a UNESCO World Heritage
site in recognition of its dense cluster of trulli,
the eccentric conical structures that dot the countryside south of
Signs around town
direct you to the conjoined Siamese trulli.
To the smallest trullo in the
world, trullo being the singular form of the
word. To the sovereign trullo,
larger than others and situated on a bluff above them. More than a few
of these trulli harbor souvenir shops, which of
course sell miniature replicas of the very structures they inhabit. Youll have had your fill of trulli
by the time you leave, which may be as soon as 90 minutes after youve arrived.
We felt pulled
not only to Alberobello but also to the tip of the
heel, and we wisely took a long day for a slow drive there and back from
We traced the
curves, rises and dips of the road nearest the water, and it took us through
tiny seaside towns with crescent-shaped beaches that were largely empty.
Granted, we were past the peak of summer, but the weather was still warm enough
in late September for sunbathing and swimming. We did both just a few miles
north of Otranto, having ventured down a dirt road that dead-ended perhaps two
dozen feet from the sea.
There were tall
dunes all around us, and I clambered to the top of one, where I couldnt hear anything but surf and wind and couldnt see anyone else. I stood there for a good
half-hour, unwilling to surrender this perch.
Like so much in
Apulia,
It also has more
than a half-dozen compelling Baroque churches, no two more than 10 minutes by
foot apart, and they arent lost in a crush of
other architectural gems, the way the Baroque churches in
What
Even more
high-end development has occurred to its north, on or near a stretch of
coastline between
La Peschiera opened in 2002, the same year that Masseria Torre Coccaro in nearby Savelletri came along, reflecting
Over the last
five years, one after another has been converted into a luxury accommodation
with no more than a few dozen rooms, manicured grounds and, more likely than
not, a spacious and eye-catching pool. The one at Torre Coccaro,
which also has the underground spa, was built to resemble a Polynesian beach,
replete with little thatch-roofed huts.
Sylvie and I
stayed next door, at Masseria Torre Maizza, which had opened four months earlier. Long before
that, it was farmland, barns and storage areas. But old and new structures on
the property had been integrated seamlessly into a tiny snow-white village with
golf links around it and a library of scores of digital videodiscs. The
plumbing and maid service were beyond reproach.
Torre Maizza was nearly empty when we arrived, but it filled up
quickly the next day when an American bicycling group arrived. Bicyclists love
Apulia, and theyre all over the region: bicyclists in small groups,
bicyclists in large groups, young bicyclists who hardly break a sweat, less
young bicyclists earning the plate of orecchiette
that they plan to have for dinner and trying to keep the ravages of time and
gluttony at bay.
When last I saw
her, one of the managers of the masseria was asking
how she planned to pay for the cars repair, and she was shaking her head
and repeating the words act of God over and over again.
This masseria was our base for drives to Apulias version of
hill towns, more pleasant than wildly picturesque and no competition for Todi or
Twenty minutes
later, we had walked down all of them. Twice.
A
letdown?
Not really, because in and around this maze we had a choice of several
amusingly named restaurants. There was to provide rough translations the Restaurant of the Poor Man, the
Restaurant of Jealousy and the Restaurant of Lost Time. We like the notion of
squandering time. We went to that last one.
And for less than
$60 apiece, including plenty of wine, we had a terrific four-course meal
brimming with
The food in
Apulia is less instantly familiar than the food elsewhere in
And the
restaurants and food stores exhibit a hospitality even more pronounced and
easygoing than in other regions of
And in Martina
Franca, at a meat and salumi shop called Macelleria Romanelli Tommaso
& Co., the proprietor decided that Sylvie and I really couldnt
taste the salumi properly without some wine, so he
hustled away, fetched two plastic glasses, opened a local red blend and poured
us tall glasses of it.
Martina Franca is
another of
As the wine went
to my head, I could feel
If you go
How to get there
The easiest point
of entry into Apulia is the city of
A car is the best
way to explore the region, and the
Where to
stay
As you move
through
Many old stone
farmhouses around Savelletri di Fasano
have been converted into small luxury resorts, and among the newest and most
gleaming is Masseria Torre Maizza
(39-0804-827-838; www.masseriatorremaizza.com), which has white-washed
buildings, spacious rooms, a gorgeous pool with a slatted wood desk and spa
facilities. Doubles start at about 300 euros.
In
Where to
eat
Near the summit
of the hilltop town of
In
The gorgeous
drive from the southernmost tip of
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