The sea in Taranto from the surroundings of the Aragonese Castle
It is no longer a secret that Puglia deserves to remain that, a secret, an open secret, although some want to turn it into the new Tuscany, the new Sicily, the new Amalfi Coast, the new Italy.
Moreover, many of these, eager to conquer the boot from toe to knee, they have been smelling the pasticciotto for some time now (jo, what a bun) and putting the thumbtack on the hotel where Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel got married, that Borgo Egnazia that, sotto voce, the pugliese define as "a Disneyland, that's not Puglia", or the cocktail bar where Helen Mirren –British with permission from Hollywood– shakes the beautiful life in the heart of Tricase, beautiful villa where the tinkle of the dollar can already be perceived.
Who would not want to geolocate the coordinates of a paradise that, for now, it still has a lot of authenticity to offer, a lot of Italy to give.
And, although the American dream of Puglia is more easily lived if you land in Brindisi to launch straight into the aristocratic Lecce and its postcard surroundings, nothing better than doing it "the European way", in Bari, and start the drive from here.
Frederick II of Sweden Square, in Bari
Because yes, Bari is that southern Italy that we want to see so much, the one of the alleys that give yuyu, the one with the strong smell of saltpeter, the one of the bra of the Magnani on duty basking in the sun.
And Bari is also St nicolas, basilica of deep devotion where the kitsch postcard is sublimated between lace veils and unexpected neorealism. Ask the saint to answer your prayers and then run, along the coast with an immediate stop required by tourist brochures, Polignano a Mare.
What to do, no one resists taking the required photo before that tongue of sea framed by hanging houses whose caves at water level sound pirate.
One of those typical Italian prints in the center of Bari
The best thing in any case is to turn on full volume Nel blu dipinto di blu, by Domenico Modugno, who was born here, and continue towards monopoly , where the play on words is thrown, because you will be left wanting to buy a house (or ten) in the Giuseppe Garibaldi Square , for example, where the fetén plan consists of watch life go by while savoring a pelón wine of another singing pullés, Albano Carrisi. Congratulations.
It is in the triangle formed by Monopoli, Fasano and Alberobello , a town famous for its trulli – whitewashed stone huts with cone-shaped roofs that give the impression of a story and the happiness of a souvenir – where some of the best accommodation in northern Puglia are concentrated, such as ** La Peschiera **, an old fish farm that also owners of the masseria Il Melograno have become discreet and elegant temple of dolce far niente.
Tagliatelle alle vongole at Saleblu, the restaurant of La Peschiera, Monopoli
From here, the road to Lecce seems long, and not by kilometres, just over a hundred, but because the traffic is intensely Italian and the roads are the same. That is why a stop in Ostuni can brighten the journey a little because of the snowy whiteness of its historic center and a little because of the sporcamuss (“mancha caras”), some typical puff pastries filled with cream that do not leave even a clean mustache.
Upon arriving at Lecce , a city in the top of the most beautiful in Italy, we are already in the Salento region, which defends its idiosyncrasy beyond what was pugliese in lands between two waters –those of the Adriatic and those of the Ionian– painted olive trees, fruit trees and vines. Full Mediterranean.
Small cove in Santa Caterina, one of the favorite holiday villages for families from Puglia
Lecce, insultingly baroque, elegant to spare as if wanting to make it clear that not everything is going to be the north, that not everything is Milan, it deserves more than one walk and the subsequent rest in one of the many masserie that dot its surroundings, as well as the tenuta , farmhouses that are saving with simplicity and good taste the scarce and old-fashioned hotel offer until recently.
From the organic concept of Tenuta Monticelli to the familiar Tenuta San Nicola or the sophisticated Masseria La Gresca and Masseria Fulcignano, the list is growing and confirms the momentum of the region.
One of the last to arrive, and in what way, is ** Masseria Trapanà , an agricultural estate from the end of the 16th century, ** imposing Santa Bárbara chapel and phenomenal zero kilometer philosophy restaurant included, which the Australian Rob Potter Sanders has become the realization of the dream of all those who long to leave everything and set up a hotel in the middle of nowhere. From the dream of (almost) everyone.
Main courtyard and facade of Masseria Trapanà, in Lecce
The same phrase would be worth to understand the smile with which they receive us Diana E. Bianchi and Massimo Fasanella d'Amore , owners of the hyperbolic and newly opened ** Castello di Ugento **, much more than a hotel.
The castle that forms the backbone of the alleys of Ugento is today superb accommodation with nine suites, a museum in which to contemplate the impressive frescoes with which Francesco and Nicola d'Amore, ancestors of Massimo, wanted to pay tribute to family history at the end of the 17th century and, above all, a gastronomic center that promises to put Pullian cuisine on the international map.
Garden in the Castle of Ugento
The ** Puglia Culinary Center ** was born with an academic vocation and already today boasts of receiving students from the Culinary Institute of America, who, from September to March, work alongside chef Odette Fada in the castle's avant-garde kitchens.
Hotel guests can also sign up for short courses to learn about the seasonal products of the region, develop recipes together with the kitchen team and even learn some dishes from the traditional cookbook from local nonnas, as well as discover the still little exploited wines of the area, with grapes of the primitivo, aleatico, negroamaro, susumaniello and black malvasia varieties, as well as a winemaking tradition that dates back to the 8th century.
It is also here that Tommaso Sanguedolce runs the gastronomic restaurant Il Tempo Nuovo , where the fish from the Gallipoli fish market rule along with the vegetables from the garden, aromatic herbs and lamb.
Ugento is a good starting point to go directly, let's be a little mythomaniac, to one of the most desired objectives of the trip: ** Balb oa Pharmacy, the cocktail bar that Helen Mirren herself runs in Tricase.**
The actress and her husband, filmmaker Taylor Hackford, They are two of the best ambassadors of Puglia since they decided to buy a house here and spend long periods with friends and... between drinks.
Those of this Pharmacy that surprises with its location (the bar in the town square, to understand us) and its careful selection of cocktails, like that Helen's Hanky Panky with gin, red vermouth and Fernet-Branca that makes the visit happy after the disappointment of not running into the owner.
Farmacia Balboa, Helen Mirren's cocktail bar in Tricase
The minimum distance to Tricase Porto , already on the edge of the (still) Adriatic, is perfect for a drink at the ** Taverna del Porto **, with its superb decoration and matching fish.
From there the route deserves to be done along the road that runs parallel to the sea, although it is only suitable for leisurely travelers. We don't have it, do we?
The calls “Maldives Salento” for its white sand beaches and crystal clear waters enliven the way to Gallipoli, photogenic fortified city in which postcard and souvenir tourism, here yes, has found its niche.
But its resounding past deserves to walk it with stop and fonda in the Palazzo Presta , a happy oasis in the middle of the hustle and bustle.
17th century frescoes at Ugento
from here to taranto the coast changes, it becomes more provincial, more authentic, more like a Pugliese summer resort. And conquer thanks to the relaxed authenticity of Santa Maria al Bagno, Porto Cesareo, Punta Prosciutto... resorts whose attraction lies in its out-of-season tranquillity.
Perfect parenthesis before finding in Taranto that Italy, again, chaotic, port, of succulent pizzas at the wrong time in joints that you would never recommend (Note: Picce de Fame, Via Duomo 254) and alleys that give yuyu, a strong smell of saltpeter and the bra of the Magnani on duty basking in the sun.
The famous (and addictive) pasticciotti of Dolce Guglia, in Soleto