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Morning Ramble through the Village

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The lifestyle here is very different to home. In many ways.

The most noticeable,  are the hours everyone keeps. It’s not just a holiday thing. It’s life.

People get up later, break for siesta, everything closes and then opens again at 5, dinner is always late.

So the early mornings  we seem to have in Australia, stop here and we enthusiastically join in. Up at the crack of 8, out for when things open at 10. Lunch when they close at 1pm. Siesta until 5. Out for passeggiata, shopping, aperitif until dinner after 8. And that’s considered early by restaurants that only open again at 8! Bed around 11.30.

But staying with John and Margaret and eating in most nights,  we have slipped into our own earlier time frame. Bed earlier. So this morning that led to a walk at 6.30 am.

Even John was having a morning off his usual run or ride,  so I was out the door,  as quiet as one of the little cats that slink around the little streets of the village.


I was the only one out! Truely. I didn’t see anyone else until I walked back up the Grand Rue at 7.45 where a few people sat in cafes smoking and drinking coffee.

It was so quiet I could hear fans inside open windows whirling. And my footsteps until the cobbles gave way to pebble paths. Then I crunched a little!
 Cotignac is a small village built into the rocky side of an outlook. It is famous for its troglodyte caves. So the streets wind up from the Marie, where the Brannock house sits tall,  looking towards the sheer rock cliffs with caves built into its face.


I followed the small winding paths past houses with shutters mostly closed, keeping morning sun out. Behind all those closed shutters people are sleeping or reading or making coffee or perhaps doing something more exotic? There are always rumours in small villages about what people get up to!

I decided to keep as quiet as a cat and take pictures. Particularly of the fountains and taps spurting or trickling water into stone basins. Apparently there are 15 such water features around the village. How many would I spy?


The path wound up. I looked over little fences, I came to a lookout,  back to the village, I wound up some more, I found a sign to a little appartment build into the rock wall. I walked on to the start of the route towards the cliff.


I kept looking at the view back to the village trying to spot the Brannocks house. It’s right on the Marie ( town hall place) and opposite the clock tower with the exquisite wrought iron bell tower.


The council have built a paved arcade in front of the rock wall. There are stairs you can climb to go higher up the wall. I tried the big iron gate but it was still locked.


I walked into the little garden with its lookout. Th only thing moving were the cats as they became wary of my footsteps. The view back was lovely especially as the morning was becoming lighter.


I felt so peaceful and alone but not lonely. It was gorgeous.


I made my way back to the village and saw the  bakery. First signs of life. It was still quiet. People were standing in a line outside, in silence. Not an unfriendly silence. – more an ‘ I’m still waking up silence’.


Then I passed a few people walking dogs or heading to their cars parked around the village. Without fail everyone wished me ‘ Bonjour Madame’.

Back to the house. I climbed the winding staircase to the kitchen.


I joined  Margaret for a cup of tea and to plan our day to another village, Lorgue where no doubt the routine of the morning would be the same as here.

We planned to arrive at 10 in time for cafe.

To Market. To Market. French style

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If there are any better markets than a French one,  I have yet to see and visit it.

I’ve been to markets all over the world, but I do think there is something special  about a French Market. I really love them.

Is the basket that everyone seems to carry? Including me. Thank you Margaret.


If you don’t own one you can quickly buy one.


Perhaps it’s the colourful umbrellas providing shade as you move around.


Or the cafes to help rehydrate?  People drink Rose here like its a soft drink!


Perhaps it’s the stall owners? They are busy but friendly.

 

Carpe Diem

Or maybe it’s  the music wafting around as you browse the stalls.


Or the fruit and veg ? That rockmelon smells fresh and delicious. And tastes so sweet and juicy.

Or the heavenly  smelling fresh bread.

Or the beautiful French girls waiting on the thirsty.


There is something for everyone. This man was showing the young girl how to use the bow and arrow!


The variety of stalls gets me in every time


I think it’s a combination of all the above, plus the personalities of those selling their goods.

Whatever it is, it works. The markets were packed but there was room for all and lots of smiles.

Perfect to buy all your ingredients for a beautiful salad lunch washed down with a Provence Rose.

Life is sweet.

Village Life in France

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A storm last night cooled things down. Rain was needed in the area after some fires last week so we couldn’t complain about the heavy rain yesterday afternoon.

But would it stop today’s activities ?

Up earlier to prepare for Boules. This game is loved by the French. It’s also know as Pétanque or as Bocce in Italy. Each little village has its own boulodrome and you often see groups of French men playing quietly on the rough pebbly surfaces.


We drove to nearby village of Salernes but were early so had coffee in the main shady Place. The village is known as a ‘crafty’ village and the mosaic planters and crocheted posts through the village support this.


Boules started at 10 and today’s games were organised by the local British Association. John and Margaret have joined this group to give a network of friends when visiting their house for longer periods of time. Getting into a social scene can be difficult in a village particularly if your French is not fluent. The French are friendly but difficult to break into socially.


Most of the people playing this morning are retirees from England. Two are married to French women and the others have all bought homes in the area. They all now speak French. Quite an assorted group!

We got underway after lobbing our boule towards the little white ball known as the cochonnet or jack and being given a partner depending on our lob. Poor  John got me ! and I’m sure he though I’d be hopeless.

But he was surprised (and I)  when it turned out I could actually lob my boule in general direction of the cochonnet, sometimes right next to it! . We were on a winning streak! Until our very last game when local Englishman Michael, definitely not a sporting figure, managed to out boule us.


Then off to lunch in a local restaurant. A long table set on a shady terrace looked innocent enough until the fun began. Most of the crowd were great company but there was an undertone that wouldn’t have been out of place in a John Motimer novel similar to ‘Summers Lease.’

It seems one gentleman (parked by his glamorous French wife, Marie Franc,  who headed for the other end of the table) is known for his over indulgence of the local wine and then upsetting other people. And today he was seated next to  me and I was able to observe some insults being hurled in a similar fashion to the boules earlier in the morning.

Such fun at lunch!

Margaret was offering to swap seats but I was thoroughly enjoying myself and then the main protagonist started to fall asleep. The wine was working.

We finished up at 3 after sorting out a few problems over ‘L’addition’  where a few seated near the trouble maker didn’t want to pay for his overindulgence of wine. Oh the intrigues of life in a French  village!

After lunch Bill,  one of the very friendly chaps invited us into his house nearby. They built it about 7 years ago but look like selling and returning to England. His wife doesn’t attend the boules so it was nice to meet her.

Back to Cotignac for siesta and then a walk through the little streets  finishing with a Rose under the shady trees. I love this place. It’s a really beautiful village and has a great feeling.

The end of another beautiful day. Market day tomorrow.

Arrivederci

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A day’s travel is many things: Time wasted at train stations or airport, time to rest and be forced to do nothing, a test of patience, time to write, time to read. The activity I enjoy most – along with reading – is to observe.

You see all types of people travelling. Fascinating.

We drove to Bari and delivered the car to Avis. Easy to find in busy traffic.  We don’t get a Sat Nav. I use my iPad. I load in the map and route we are taking, when I have wifi, and then I can just follow along. A blue throbbing dot marks our location. Even without wifi. It’s like magic.  Much better than Sat Nav.

While we waited  for our train we went back to the cafe we had visited on our first day in Bari. Very good juices, sandwiches and salad. And I swear the man behind the counter remembered me! And the opera of the two tarty women trying to pay for a 5 Euro coffee with a number of obviously fake 500 Euro notes!

Then it was a onto the train. 1st class! But it wasn’t the Orient Express. It just meant we got our own seat. We got a drink and a snack! The ticket guard on board was a Montelbano type. Bald hair, tan skin and good looking in his own way. If you haven’t seen Inspector Montelbano do yourself a favour and watch it. It’s set in Sicily, has subtitles and is great fun. Montelbano gets to solve crimes.

Yesterday we met Antonelle at a cafe. He was very taken with us Australians. We chatted about things with him and somehow policemen came up. Steve said ‘like Montelbano?’  He laughed and replied. Not all all. They don’t get to solve any crimes in real life!

The train trip was fine. All ran well and before we knew it we were on our way from Rome Termini to Fiumicino to stay at a hotel not far from the airport. I chose Hotel Tiber right on the coast where the River Tevere flows into the sea. Not bad for our last night in Italy.


We walked along the river past all the fishing boats,  looking for a restaurant. The only ‘Opera’ we saw was the altercation between the driver of the tourist train and the man delivering things from his double parked truck! The train had clipped his door. Much shouting and arm waving, before all was resolved  and then waving a cheery farewell to each other and it was all over.


The T-shirt saying ‘I can’t stay calm. I’m Italian’ came to mind!

We chose a restaurant  that looked typically Italian, but in the old fashioned sense. No red checked table clothes. Nice white ones with older gentlemen waiting the tables. We knew we were away from friendly southern Italy by the haughty manner of the waiter once we sat down. He barely looked at us. Refused to speak Italian to us and was very dismissive. There goes his generous tip I thought!

Happily we enjoyed the food and the Piedmont wine and then walking home we could see, or rather hear, some recorded voices. We rounded a corner into a little piazza and there were chairs set up facing a stage. Cinema style. It was the local summer outdoor theatre.


We walked towards what looked like a very old fashioned movie just in time to hear ‘we’ll be landing in Brisbane in a few minutes!’  Then an aerial view of an old fashioned Brisbane. This was a old movie about a woman coming to Queensland as part of the bride scheme. Back in the 50’s. We had to stay and watch and it was so funny. I told the women near us we were from Brisbane. She was lovely and described that this film though old was a favourite!


The film took the poor,  but beautiful Italian bride to be, on a long journey to get where her future husband lived. They went to Port Douglas, Uluru, Melbourne, an island that  looked like Stradbroke, Sydney, Broken Hill and finally the house , in a hick town where  she was to live. Of course during the journey she fell in love with the man, Amadeo. Of so funny!

So the prediction was right. Tomorrow Steve indeed would be landing in Brisbane.

Whilst I continue my adventure in Cotignac.

Sleepy little Port? I think not!

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We had our siesta – which included the last hour of today’s Tour de France.

Then the streets of Trani. What is it about this place that makes it special?

We had to re-park the car. Fredrica told us we had to ‘be gone’ by 7pm when the area in front of the port becames ‘for the people.’ I love this. It’s all about people enjoying themselves. But what people?  It’s seems no one is here. It’s so quiet.

So we drove through the the quiet streets just before 5.  The unofficial end of siesta. We found a carpark. We hope we don’t get towed.

Then it was our own form of passeggiata. Through the local gardens. Oh what a feeling. I love gardens in any place and these are so special by the sea. I’m really a sea person I’ve decided.


We walked, we talked. The afternoon light was romantic.

We walked through the quiet streets as they woke up. People on bikes, people talking and gesticulating as Italians do with their hands

Eventually we reached the Cathedral. The dramatic seafront cathedral is dedicated to St Nicholas the Pilgrim, famous for being foolish. The Greek Christian wandered through Puglia, crying ‘Kyrie eleison’ (Greek for ‘Lord, have mercy’). They thought he was a simpleton, but eventually he was revered after his death (aged 19) after several miracles attributed to him occurred.

Well poor Nicholas chose a fine place. It’s simple, it’s moving, it was startling in the afternoon sun. I had to sit inside to  recover.


The streets back to the port were quiet with just a few children out kicking soccer balls.

Then we hit the fish markets along the front of the port. Chaos! Cat calling. Every few metres there was a table with plastic bins filled with little fish. Fishermen trying to sell their fish.  Not big ones. Are the waters overfished?

The men and boys were calling out their catches. Others were repairing nets. It reminds me that this is still a fishing port.



Feeling just a little tired we stopped at one of the many bars along the port front. Naturally,  an Aperol Spritz for me and a large beer for Steve. We relaxed and watched. Probably my favourite activity.

Then the Opera started.

A large group arrived at the bar next door. A group of happy,  though sadly, disabled adults and their carers. They settled into the cafe and gelato started to appear. They were singing and clapping and showing us all how to be delighted  by the simple act of sharing a gelato.

Then one of the fish mongers came along pulling his cart. You could tell he was keen to get home. As he turned into the little street next to our bar he came upon a motorbike, parked so he couldn’t move forward. He called to us? Vostra ? No. Not ours. He called loudly. His friend arrived. They both called loudly to the people around.

I knew who had been so inconsiderate. I’d seen him park. I searched for him in the crowd. Mr white linen shirt!

Finally,  they I found him. Instead of telling him off or rudely swearing. They thanked him. Drama over.

I love these Italians. All drama. Then it’s over.

I saw a man earlier today, wearing a t shirt I loved and I just had to ask permission to take his photo. This to me says it all.


Our afternoon became evening and we went to a restaurant recommended by Fredrica. Naturally it served fish! So we chatted to the waiter. No English from him,  so I was tested! But we managed to order whole fish, grilled for me and Pugliese style for Steve. And a lovely local white.

Our waiter taught me a new word. Instead of ‘Lei’  when referring to a woman  – in this area they are called Etta! (that’s the name of the wine he suggested we try.)  I hope that’s right! I believed him.

Hope I didn’t learn a new swear word.

Now I’m sitting on our little balcony overlooking the not so quiet street below. It’s 12.34 am! And the action is still happening! Hope this little video works. Look for the Cathedral at the end.


Good night from Trani.

Lecce you are Lovely

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Today is Friday and we are feeling sad about the terrible tragedy in Nice. Travel is wonderful but these days there is an element of danger. But we won’t let it stop us.

So today we met our guide for the day. Lovely Simona. I found her website and booked a three hour tour. It’s great going with a local and as it turned out she lives around the corner from our apartment.IMG_2019

We set off and she began to tell us about life in Lecce both now and in the past. She is a born and bred local,  though her partner Tim, she described as more English than the Queen !

We walked and she pointed out the features on the buildings. This was a wealthy area in days gone by due  to production of wine, olives  and tobacco.  There are a number of large Palazzo, now either privately owned or broken into apartments. In this way it’s like the very lovely areas of Rome.



We looked at the markings above the doors, the churches, Cathedral and Basillica. They all have a story.


The really interesting thing about Lecce is the use of  Cartapesta or paper mâché as as an art form. Used to make statues,  it is particular to this area. It’s used in Venice for making masks but here it’s in the churches. You can hardly tell the difference between the statues made from Paper mâché , wood and stone. Such craftsmen.


We visited one shop in a quiet area behind the Cathedral and had a nice talk with the owner.  A lovely lady named Stefania. Ginetta – you and Em would love this work. Her more modern work is also amazing. She had made a bustier you would love and a dress. And a mermaid!


We looked at the altars of different style – Baroque and Renaissance.


Baroque

Renaissance

Such beauty in one place.

We had to stop for a refreshment. A coffee over ice with a dash of almond milk to make it sweet. Delicious. It’s called ‘Cafe in Ghiaccio con latte Di Mandorle’.

More walking and talking and noticing things we would otherwise have missed – including the drain cover marked with the city symbol of the she-wolf and the oak tree; and the fascist symbol from the 1930’s.


Significant symbols everywhere.

We retreated to our apartment for a piccolo siesta and to catch up with the Tour de France

Then it was time for our passeggiata. We walked, we shopped, we had a glass of wine and we watched others doing the same.

IMG_2027

Dinner was at Osteria 203 recommended by Simona. It was a beautiful meal with a gorgeous bottle of local red. To make it more special we watched a parade go past our restaurant. It was to take St Carmine back to her church. Accompanied by a band. Steve thought the band almost unique – not because of the typical Italian playing con gusto and slightly off key – but of the 40 or so members, no three of them were in step even with each other!

IMG_2030

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After dinner walked some more and visited another lovely shrine  – the most popular Gelateria named Natale. What a place.

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Buona notte my friends

Please leave a comment about something you love when you travel

 

 

Road trip back to Puglia

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The big swim is over so it’s back in the car to cross back to Puglia. 

  
The drive along the coast was lovely. The water is such a beautiful blue. 

  
So Thursday is an observation day. 

How Italians drive is one observation I could go on about for ever: but just a few ……

They love speed…… It’s nothing to do 120 in an 80 zone

They overtake whenever they want. Don’t worry about lines crossed, safety, another car coming in opposite direction. They just assume they can poke back into the line of traffic and everyone will be happy. 

They always drive with one arm dangling out of the window. Perhaps they don’t like air con as the window is open for the dangle. 

The roads here are lined with oleander bushes. Pink and white and they look beautiful. 

To finish our drive to Lecce we saw the funniest thing. We’re driving along doing about 100 and a car whooped by doing at least 130, and as it passed us we both gasped and laughed. It was a hearse, and the back door had opened up so you could see the coffin inside. It was a very nice brown teak and we thought it would come flying out at any moment. 

About 500 metres down the road the driver must have realised and pulled over.  Two mins later the same car went past at 140 this time the back lift up door was closed. May they RIP!

  
This is not a 2 lane road. It is someone overtaking with a truck coming towards him! 
We arrived in Lecce around 3.30 and I had messaged Antonio. Yes another Antonio. This one is the landlord of our air BnB. It’s great. Typical Italian apartment. A little door on to our Vico  (small street) with a sitting room, larger bedroom kitchen and bathroom. In quiet, but in the old city, with real neighbours around us. 

It will be perfect. We had a siesta for a short while but I gave up and went out walking by myself to get a feel for the city as siesta was finishing and all the local businesses were opening. 

It’s a lovely Baroque town sometimes known as the ‘Rome of the South’ or ‘Florence of the Baroque’. But it dates back to old Roman times and has a theatre and amphitheatre – but the period which led to town’s current fame was the 17th century. A period of prosperity led to grand developments and the wholesale construction of palaces and churches. These buildings adapted the fashionable Baroque style to the soft local stone, with decorations and cherubs extravagantly covering facades and doorways. This local style is known as barocco Leccese (‘Lecce Baroque’). And it’s beautiful. 

  
We walked our own style of Passeggiata, had an Appertivo and went to a local restaurant for some home cooking. 

We didn’t expect horse to be on the menu but it was, and we managed to avoid it. I had vegetables with grilled chicken and Steve had baked pasta then sausages local style. 

Naturally we finished with a gelato and limoncello. 

  
 

Top Swimming with the Italians

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Swimming has brought us many friends and now we can add two more.

Carlo Francolini and Guiseipp Montesanti. They turned out to be great guys. Friendly, funny and just the right pace of swimming. Guiseipp was a little faster than Steve – and 15 years younger! Carlo was slower. So they swam together and bonded as you do when you are sharing a goal.

   

The Captain ran the show in his budgie smugglers, thongs and deep tan. He was assisted by two young lifeguards in a small boat like a rubber duck. There was the Doctor and the  paramedic who arrived by ambulance and boarded the boat looking very professional. Well the Paramedic did, the doctor had cut off jeans and a striped shirt. He was lovely.

 

Lovely Italian Doctor.

 
We were a little concerned by all these people. Was it going to be that hard? And then the Coast Guard boat turned up to accompany us all the way!

They got underway around 9! A little later than expected due to two large ships passing through the Strait. They then set a cracking pace and didn’t stop till they reached the other side spot on hour later. Great 3.6km swim and very fast.

  
A quick break for drinks and a hug and then they set out to cross back. This time the wind and currents made the going tougher and the Captain altered the course. He didn’t really tell them they weren’t aiming for the red tower and they zig zagged a little; but with the change in arrival place I jumped in with just over 1/2 km to go and swam with Carlo – who had a troublesome shoulder. Guiseipp and Steve hit out and finished the total 7.5km in 2 hrs 38 minutes. Strong currents on the way back!

A great effort by all.

 
Carlo and Steve showing off their swim wear. Carlo has Espana and Steve Australian. Guiseipp takes on the scrum!  
A lovely lunch followed – as you do after a big swim. And new friends made.

  
Now on the ferry heading back to mainland Italy to spend the night a a lovely beachside place called Scilla.

A little R&R for Steve and a few drinks later.

I asked the Doctor to take some photo of us when i jumped into swim and this is what he took!

On the Road

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Today was a travel day. 

Thank goodness not by train. There was a terrible train crash in Puglia – but we were driving to Sicily. 

Tomorrow is the big day. Steve is swimming from Torre Faro at the tip of Sicily to Calabria. And back. 

When we arrived in Sicily we booked into our hotel , which claims it’s a modern resort but is more like a step back in time to Fawlty Towers. Then we checked out where the swim would start and went to meet the boat captain. 

He is an Italian – a real Sicilian named Giovanni. He was a very good swimmer and held the record for the fastest swim to Calabria for about 30 years! He’s weathered and smiley and doesn’t speak English! 

 

Carlo the rugby tragic, Giovanni the boat captain, Steve and Guiseippe

 
We also met the two Italian men swimming along with Steve. Carlo is in his 40’s and sports mad. He’s a Rugby tragic and only stopped when broke a bone ( through the skin) in his hip playing 7’s ! He now swims. The other guy is also a big ex rugby player who lives to swim. Both are lovely. 

Carlo speaks English but Guiseippe doesn’t. So my Italian is getting a workout. 

We met at Giovanni’s home and his sweet wife made us an almond flavoured drink. We had the briefing for tomorrow. He feels they will swim fast. There are winds and currents to think about,  also the shark that was seen today ( but we’re not thinking about that – much!) Ge said it would be perfect. 

We then piled into a small car and went to  a local cafe  ( Giovanni wanted to treat the swimmers) for a Granita – that lovely icy drink to wish them all good luck. No beer or champagne for them yet. 

Then off to the point of Sicily to check it out and have a small swim. It was gorgeous in. Clear, blue and perfect temperature. Well it was for us. But Carlo and particularly Giuseippe found it cold and will probably wear a wet suit! What? Wimps comes to mind! 

Although speaking to Guiseippe – he also swam from Spain to Morocco in 2014 and they had the get him out about 1 km from the end as there was a big shark! They moved him along the coast checked the water and he got back in and finished the swim. So perhaps only a wimp when it comes to water temperature! 

We then returned to our ‘resort’ for probably the worst meal of the holiday. Poor Steve he wanted something delicious and carb loading. But it was very average. 

So to bed with dreams of another successful crossing. 

I’ll let you know how it goes but fingers xxxxxx

The Sassi of Matera

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Most Australians don’ t put Matera, in the little known Province of Basilicata, on their list of places to visit in Italy.  

Now I’m wondering why not?

It’s an amazing place. Built into the caves of the hill, the houses are centuries old. Matera consists of 2 Sassi. Sassi Caveoso and Sassi Barisano.  Picture a butterfly:  it’s body is the ridge where the now new town is built and the wings either side are the two Sassi. The caves are stacked so the path you walk down is actually the roof of the cave below.  
We are staying in  Sassi Caveoso in a B&B in an old cave. It’s a wonderful experience.


When we arrived yesterday and looked down from the ridge I wondered at my stupidity at booking something that looked inaccessible by car. But it turned out you can drive down a narrow winding street drop of the bags then drive up park and walk in. Steve managed it all very well!

Looking back across to our cave B&B. its the one above the lone white umbrella on the piazza 

But it’s worth it. Tizianna our host at the B&B only speaks Italian so I have had to use my Italian to speak to her. She’s charming and even understood my request for gluten free.

Our bedroom has a terrace and we look at the Sassi across from us. Last night we had dinner at Francesca’s just near the B&B. It was very good. I had a gluten free pasta with canelli beans, mussels in a pesto sauce. Delicious.

Then as we were preparing for bed there was an almighty BOOM across the valley. The most colourful fireworks started and went on for ages. We sat on the terrace and enjoyed the front row seat. I asked Tizianna what it was all about and she said it was the festival of the local Saint – a festival that lasts two weeks and last night was the conclusion.

This morning we had breakfast on the terrace before heading off to meet Antonio on the ridge looking down over the Sassi. He was a lovely young man. So good looking it was distracting!

Lovely Antonio our guide 

We  joined a family group from Ireland and they were perfect to have on the walking tour with us. Antonio led us all around the Sassi telling us stories about how the caves were used in the past and how they are used now. He pointed out they have just transformed over 3,000 years as the uses changed. They have always been occupied.

Then in the 1950’s the Government removed the occupants and bought all the cave houses. The living conditions were so bad that was the only way forward. Now the city has developed a tourism industry that comes from the uniqueness of these strange houses. So people are leasing the houses back – for almost nothing , then the new occupants renovate them and start businesses. Like the one we are in – Le Corte dei Pastori.  
He told us Matera is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and has been chosen as one of two cities in the world to be listed in  2019 as a cultural centre so they will be expecting many more tourists to come. So if you are planning to come make sure it’s before the large group tour companies put it on their list.

We walked with Antonio for 3 hours in and out of cave houses, churches and lookouts and ignored the heat bearing down on us. It was so interesting and Antonio was very knowledgable. And did I mention good looking?

There were 156 churches in this city. Big ones and little ones in caves

We finished at 1pm and made our way to a cafe with beer. Steve is in training to swim the straits of Messina on Wednesday.

The segways here are shaped like a Vespa at the front. All different colours. 

So this afternoon we are having a siesta. Such a great idea.

Has anyone been to Matera? Let me know what you think about the place.