From Mesagne I walked on. I took the old roads, not many cars, a lot of olive trees. The only people I meet on the way are some lost cars and people working in the field… all men. Many want to talk to me, and when they find out I am walking alone, they are first surprised, but later sometimes their faces fill with greed. And it makes me uncomfortable. That’s where Antonio comes in.
Antonio is a very good friend. Everywhere I go, Antonio goes, too. Sometimes he waits in the next town, sometimes he just dropped me of with the car, sometimes he is ten minutes behind me. But he is always around. A very, very good friend. And yes, he is Italian. I had a lot of inspiration when I called him Antonio. And Antonio makes me feel a lot safer. All the men understand, I cannot go for a drink with them, I do not want their number or give out mine, because I am going to Antonio. (When I get to France I’ll call him Pierre).
From Mesagne I went to Ostuni, the beautiful white city. Unfortunately for me everything looked white and grey that day, so I didn’t get the great view of Ostuni some other people get.
After Ostuni the Trulli began. A Trullo is a specific type of house in the area. It is most often white, round and has a funny pointy roof. And the area is packed with it. The first few are nice, but after a while you’ve seen them and more and more keep showing up. I don’t really understand why the houses are shaped like this… but it is tradition now, so all the houses are Trulli.
And Alberobello is they Trulli-capital. A city full of Trulli. Funny to see, only I didn’t. I arrived very late on the camping of Alberobello, South of the city. Where I spend some time wrestling with my tent. To go into the city was quite far and it was already late. I maybe should get a bicycle to be more mobile…
Oh, and I almost forgot to tell about the best ride I ever got. But maybe I’d better show you: