Locorotondo (no I didn't make that word up)

 I've got a few minutes before I catch a train... It's delightfully cooler here in Locorotondo this morning - going to say about 21, with a gentle breeze blowing past my door. Last night there were even a few drops of rain. Locorotondo is my last stop before heading back to NZ and there is so much to see  - here and in the neighbouring towns. I'm not sure how much gorgeousness can be in a stone's throw from each other.

So first off, let's look at Locorotondo - I caught a train here from Lecce which took me first to the station at Martina Franca - when I got to that station there were no departure notice boards to say when and which binari (platform) for the connecting train to Locorotondo - a train station guy walked past and I asked him - 20 minutes, not sure which binari yet, but it would be ok. I sat. A train appeared, and there was the train station guy waving from the driver's seat, telling me this was the one. Now that's service.

And all it took was 8 minutes down the tracks from Martina Franca to here - a 10 minute work up a 'moderate hill' (as per google) and into a lovely cave apartment - by which I mean that it is built into what is the underneath of apartments above, as is the whole street at this level - contoured limestone ceilings, tiled floors. 

The town itself is built on a hill and the clever people of that time (the foundations of the village date back to about 1000AD although there is evidence that it was inhabited between 2 and 3 BC - to be clear, I haven't seen the evidence, but that's what Wikipedia tells me) used the contours of the hill to construct the houses and lanes. Let's say it is concentric (because it is). 

The streets are white paving and the houses are mainly whitewashed, which means that any greenery and pots create beautiful photos - the whole town is a picture postcard - I love it! It's not large and sprawling, it's pretty perfect really. Not absolutely filled with tourists, and there are still a substantial number of locals living in the old town, rather than every house being either tourist accommodation or a trinket shop - in fact, there are very few shops apart from on the main square., and those are pretty classy. The peak of the hill is the main church, St George the Martyr. I love a good martyr, I can totally relate when I am walking dragging my grande valise from a train station rather than taking a taxi...

My apartment has a screen door and then a solid door - and as I sit here I understand how the locals feel - tourists are peering right into the screen door, trying to check the inside out.  So invasive.

So here's a bunch of photos - I sat in the main square at lunchtime yesterday with a huge sandwich with coppa (cured meat from the shoulder of the pig as opposed to prst which comes from the hind leg), dried tomatoes in olive oil and a soft ricotta cheese - oh my - and a glass of white wine (this is a top wine region after all). Just divine.  So simple, so tasty.

Last night I sat in another cafe for an aperol spritz, followed by a pizza in the place opposite my apartment, and because I was alone an Italian woman (Vita) started chatting, and she joined me for dinner. These are the bits I love about travelling alone - :)