No we didn’t get to an Opera last night. We went out for dinner in a local osteria. It’s almost the same.
We joined the local passeggiata at apertivo time and enjoyed the atmosphere of Gallipoli. The village seemed quiet, but after siesta the whole town woke up and got onto the Main Street which of course is for pedestrians only.
We saw couples walking arm in arm. Babies sitting alert in their strollers learning about being Italian. Children scampering around and swinging on the chain fence surrounding the church. People sipping Aperol, Campari and wine red or white. And nibbling on olives.
We saw a young, just married couple walking through the town accepting all the well wishes from the locals. The husband, a policeman, was resplendent in his uniform with several friends looking equally wonderful.
Then we found a little restaurant that looked good. It had a crowd – which at 8.30 is amazing in Italy. And they weren’t tourists. So I went in and asked for a table to be told no. I decided to book (in my very best Italian) for the next night and used the name Francesca. Then the owner, who looked a little like an actor from a TV series, came over and said they would bring the table in from outside for us. Much scrambling around and …….. we were seated.
We had a wonderful meal. Probably the best (except of course the special one from the Grotto on day 1). We shared fritters of seafood so crisp and light they were delicious, along with grilled vegetables. Then Steve had sea beam baked in the oven topped with crisp mashed potato. I had fresh tuna with rocket and tomatoes and cheese. Yum!
No room for dessert or even gelato tonight. Though we did enjoy the limoncello offered with the bill. And then went out and bought a bottle for the room. Another addiction from my trips to Italy. Somehow it always tastes better here?
We were in a prime position to observe our fellow diners. There was the young couple obviously in love but also very hungry. The birthday table for a young woman’s celebration. And the table of fakes. I called them that because there was a lot of Botox going around. And fake boobs. Oh boy.
They went to leave and stood at the pay table where the own Mr TV series sat like mission control and I’m sure he strung out the farewell so he could have a good look.
So our night out was both delicious and entertaining. What more could we ask for?