From Matera to the Coast, via More Strange Houses

It’s time to explore Puglia now, so we leave Matera behind straight after breakfast and are off in the newly collected hire car and on our way to the first stop, Alberobello. This is agricultural land; not the parched earth you associate with southern Europe, but fields of wheat, barley and oats, vineyards and olive groves, almond orchards and fig trees. The land is green and fertile, the crops golden ripe, the fields boundered throughout by dry stone walling. All very picturesque. 

There is a single reason we have headed to Alberobello first. The Valley of Itria is dotted with bizarrely shaped conical dwellings known as Trulli houses, but nowhere else has a concentrated collection of these quite like Alberobello. It’s a crazy sight, the sloping town a massed series of pointed pinnacles of sparkling white tiny houses with grey roofs.

There are 1500 of these strange dwellings in Alberobello, in two distinct districts, Rione Monti and Rione Aia Piccola. The first is a tourist trap, rammed with souvenir shops and the like; the second a more peaceful mix of private homes and holiday lets. The history of these houses, built entirely from dry stone, mostly limestone, using neither cement nor mortar, is a little unclear, but there’s no doubt the strange sight has been just a little enhanced for the tourist market. 

It’s a bizarre vista though, the houses comical as well as conical. On from Alberobello, it’s out towards the Adriatic, skirting both a thunderstorm and the port city of Bari, until we pull into our next destination, Molfetta. 

Our host leads us deep into the ancient part of town, the attractive narrow streets cool, the tall stone houses sheltering us from the intense sun. We enter one house through huge wooden doors, the high arched ceiling and stone walls resembling an old castle entrance. Our apartment is on the second floor, bright and cheerful but it is the view that is the star of this place.  The sea is just below our balcony, sparkling and blue, gently lapping against the city wall, a few steps down we have private access to the sea, this is just a perfect location for our coastal retreat.

We take a walk to the harbour, tiny fishing boats gently swaying in the sheltered waters, the Duomo standing proud, its twin towers dominating the waterfront skyline, occasional palm trees adding a splash of colour against the pale stonework. Across the harbour a boatyard, grounded boats beached for repair, beyond that a marina. It’s late afternoon, the town is peaceful, yet to awaken from its siesta.  We take a seat at a harbour front bar and sip a cold beer, yes, we are going to like Molfetta.

Our evening begins at the harbour, at the Duomo Bar for Aperol Spritz as the sun sets, cool music and a relaxed vibe, perfect on this warm sultry evening.

We take a stroll, a trawler has arrived, the crew selling the days catch from the boat. Our destination is Marechiario Ristorante, a fish restaurant recommend to us earlier and we are lucky to be given a table at the waters edge. The octopus and tuna were fabulous, the fresh catch of the day we shared was mouth watering, and the crisp local white wine delicious. The sea lapped the harbour wall beside us, shoals of fish splashed in the dark waters, the huge moon popped up from behind the ancient town, all creating a delightful atmosphere. We choose our fish from the catch displayed near the kitchen; it is fresh, flaky and absolutely delicious. There aren’t many things better than eating a fresh fish dinner in this way.

We fall asleep to the sound of the lapping waves.