Advertisement
Next stop, the East Coast of Italy. Nowhere in particular to aim for. My sister’s anathema: aimless wandering!
We found a beautiful lakeside stop as we cut across the country – eat your heart out Lake Como! Well, no Italianate villas per se but a great bicycle path around the foreshore, a marina and a beach and an endless expanse of water surrounded by hills. And as a bonus, very few people..my kind of place. But we didn’t stay, the coast beckoned.
Noara Beach camping found us in a small family run, spotless, beachside site. We had been shouted at going the wrong way down the promenade and then again as we crossed a field to regain our road and were grateful to have found this sanctuary after those hectic sightseeing days in Florence. It was small but had a bar for coffee and drinks, excellent olive oil from their farm and just a clamber over rocks into the sea.
Magnificent seafood from the restaurant next door, Fronte de Mar, succulent squid skewers and a seafood linguine and great salad with parmesan and fresh herbs. We had a prime seating position but only because I think they thought
we were staying at their guesthouse!
Fully recovered we headed down the coast to the peninsula of Gargano most of it being a national park with dramatic coves and tortuous streets in the small towns. We were treated to a 4.7 earthquake just off the coast!
Heading further down into the Puglia of Trulli houses we spent the night at a campsite hyped by its website – Breeze amongst the Olives – sadly disappointing - but Polignano a Mare was wonderful with a swim off rocks into deep azure water and gloomy caves. Staying right in the middle of the town of Alberobello was magical as we wandered the narrow marble blocked streets, peeped inside shops and houses of the hundreds of Trulli which have been restored lovingly after a brief stint as possible knockdowns of no further value and carrying the stigma of houses for the poor. This we did both late in the evening and early in the morning after all the crowds had mostly gone or not yet spewed out of the tour buses. We also ventured into Locorotundo (mad roundness in Spanish!) a town less visited on the tourist trail but still so hot
and for one still suffering with a summer cold I soon felt I just had to have a lie-down. With a few hours until our ferry we parked at a beach near Brindisi and I collapsed onto the bed. How lovely to have your own bed, like a snail with its own house!
The nighttime ferry from Brindisi to Vlora in Albania was another story. I’m not sure if this was indicative of Italian ferries but it was absolute chaos. No-one seemed to know where you were supposed to go and after being directed into three different car parks, all of which were crammed with buses and necessitated turning around, no mean feat with the van, we were finally at the entrance to the ferry. Flicking through my phone for the ticket we were told no phone ticket, we needed to have a paper one and were sent back to the terminal at the original car park for them to print us a ticket. We had to laugh. Or was it hysteria? Three hours to get onto the ferry! Finally on board, we found our cabin and dropped into slumber.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.24s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 31; qc: 102; dbt: 0.1132s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
Leanne
non-member comment
Few days till the ferry trp
Loving all the adventures, camp sites and hunting around for that delicious meal often just around corner. Keep writing I am waiting patiently for the next chapter.