Sometimes, somewhere incredible is waiting to be known. These are the journeys that make travel exciting. I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new place, a new town, a whereabouts with a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.
In 2018 I visited Polignano a Mare again. Again, it was for a brief "passing through" visit, but I knew then that I must come back for a longer stay. This year, it happened: a month in perhaps what is one of the most beautiful and evocatice cities of Puglia..
We ripped through the coastal towns of Abruzzo and Molise, on a mission to arrive before nightfall. We knew that driving in the dark with unlit winding roads and sheer perpendicular drops would not be the best way to travel along this promontory. I allowed myself to escape into memories, at least for a little while to
If I’m late with my blog post, I have good reason; as varied and off the wall as these excuses are, they are the “honest-to-god” truth! I wish, in fact, I had had such solid justification for my late assignments and sundry essays when I was in university. I couldn’t have made this up even
The Rustici Leccesi or Salentini are the finger-lickin'-good snack/appetizers found everywhere in Salento, from bars to restaurant takeaways. The first stop for a day at the beach or picnic is to buy some tasty rustici for the kids in tow, and even, perhaps more especially, for the grownups. These flavourful morsels are made of crispy
We are driving from Gallipoli, across to the east coast of Salento, and to the easternmost town of Italy, Otranto. The landscape, its farms and stone walls, is a kaleidoscope of intense colours; the red earth and blue sky, the endless verdant olive groves and trees; these rooted to a parched brown earth that perhaps
I remember climbing on the backrest of an old settee in order to look out of our third floor window at Piazza dell’Unità to see the other children already on their way to the Sala Cinematografica Cola Di Rienzo (today, a Bingo palace) for the costume parade. It was not the first time I too
It's almost Carnevale. Tuesday, February 17, to be exact, will mark the last day before the Lenten season begins. In Italy, like in many other places around the world it is a time of frivolity,, fun and fantasy. The Carnival of Venice comes to mind: a moment in time when all the exhausting cares of
The post Christmas break in Florida was what I thought I needed: lots of sun, the hot, sticky kind; plenty of rest, the unending, monotonous kind; and blue skies to gaze up to as I tear my eyes away from the book I would finally be sinking my teeth into. But then, what we think we
I wish I could wear high heels; I wish I knew how to walk in them. I never learned. I was one of those gauche teen-aged girls that found no pleasure in dreaming of my first high heeled pumps. Today, a pair of Laboutins, hold no fascination for me, and my head turns rather to admire