I kept several must-dos in mind as we traveled for 23-day down the full length of Italy:
1. Hiking the Italian Dolomites
2. Staying in a cave house in Matera
3. Renting a Trullo in Alberobello
Two out of the three were in Italy's deep south, which helped alleviate the boredom on our longest day of travel, more than 10 hours of bus-train-bus from Urbino to Pesaro to Bari to Alberobello. But it was worthwhile -- as much as we appreciated the romance of Venice and San Marino, our trip would have been much less fulfilling without this final week in Puglia and Basilicata.
Half of our time in the south would be spent among these distinctive Pugliese farmhouses known as the Trulli, little whitewashed sugar cubes awkwardly fitted over with fanciful wizard hats for roofs. They’re as far as can be from the sophistication of a Fiorentine palazzo and other classic definitions of Italian architecture, but there’s just something magical to fall in love with.
I didn’t understand my love-at-first-sight with Alberobello until weeks later when I read of its uncanny connection as a sister town with my favorite destination in the world, the secluded Shirakawago and its signature Gassho-zukuri thatched roofs. Both towns feature ingenious architectural adaptations to historical hardships in the local environment -– heavy snow in mountainous Central Japan, and heavy taxes in feudal Southern Italy.
Prior to arrival I had arranged to rent one of these whimsical mushroom-shaped houses for a couple nights, without knowing the functional weakness of this ancient architectural form especially on humid days. But that’s just the authentic quirkiness -- much like enduring the lack of insulation when renting a traditional Japanese Machiya house -- that completed our full Pugliese experience.
Getting to Alberobello wasn’t as straightforward as we hoped, especially on Sundays when the FSE, Puglia’s regional private rail operator, replaced its reliable train service with an infrequent bus schedule that ran only 5 times a day. Even the locals weren’t fully familiar with this replacement service, as nobody at the bus stop could tell me whether it was the right bus for Alberobello.
So we waited with the locals at an unmarked street corner (known locally as Largo Sorrentino) just south of Bari Centrale station, killing a couple hours of time checking out the vending machines and the streetside bar-caffes before the bus finally arrived to carry us, as well as a sweaty team of teenage footballers after their weekly fixture, on our way towards Alberobello.
Make no mistake about it –- we’re now fully in Trulli country as our bus winded through the sparsely populated countryside of olive plantations, wild cactus pears, and anonymous whitewashed hamlets with their signature conical roofs.
Two hours later our driver dropped us off a block from Alberobello Stazione (note: it turned out necessary to tell the bus driver to stop at the TRAIN station, or we would have ended up at the Alberobello BUS terminal across town). The ambience was absolutely enchanting in the early evening as we strolled towards our rental trullo.
Our little trullo was situated at the heart of the upper town, 7 minutes walk from the train station and just a couple minutes from arguably the Alberobello’s best known attraction, a relatively lavish former residence known as Trullo Sovrano.
Just around the corner was the town’s Baroque basilica. It was exactly one week before the patron saint's feast day and the streets leading to the basilica were fully decked out in a festive atmosphere.
Across town stood a distinctive local specimen of a church, the Parrocchia Sant'Antonio, fashioned in the form of a ginormous trullo with half-metre-thick walls and turret-like stone roofs.
The real attraction in Alberobello was its labyrinth of meandering narrow alleys –- especially in the northern neighborhoods -- surrounded by endless whitewashed trulli on all sides where every street corner appeared vaguely identical except to the local inhabitants. Once in a while we would find ourselves going hopelessly in circles, and had to depend on our maps.me app to escape from the maze.
It was much harder to get lost in the southern neighborhoods where the wider streets were lined with rows upon rows of souvenir shops, and its alleys filled with busloads of mostly British and Japanese tourists stopping by for the obligatory day-trip. We bought some handmade leather goods from a local artisan, but as it turned out leather items would get even cheaper when we subsequently visited Lecce.
In retrospect it was ideal to stay in the northern part of town for its authentic atmosphere with relatively few tourists, and wander to the southern neighborhoods in the early evening as the day-trippers left and locals came out to socialize.
As mentioned we booked our trullo ahead of time, a few months in advance in fact, from a local operator named Trullivacation. Checking in was quick and easy as we dropped by the rental office at the dead-end street of Vico Gentile (1 minute walk west of the Basilica), and the friendly manager even carried our large backpack for us to our trullo located another minute’s walk away.
Our house was one among an entire block of rowhouses of trulli, all plastered with a uniform whitewashed facade that would appear quite ordinary from the outside, betrayed only by the little conical roofs peeking above the concealment.
The flat facade was only a 20th Century enhancement for ease of maintenance -- the interior was really in the form of a cylindrical space divided into the master bedroom on the main floor, a loft beneath the vaulted roof, and a seldom used basement level.
With two more beds in the loft our trullo could have slept four in probably 300 square feet of space. Modern amenities such as heating and air conditioning were of course provided, but the absolutely indispensable appliance in this unique rural architecture was the dehumidifier.
As it turns out all trulli are plagued with one serious design flaw: the heavy accumulation of moisture trapped under the impenetrable stone ceiling and exacerbated by the presence of shallow ground water in the basement. The manager mentioned about a future plan to install a jacuzzi in the basement, though in retrospect it would sound rather ambitious given the trullo’s predisposed weakness.
Located next to the front entrance was a tiny but functional kitchen with an induction stove top and hood fan, built-in refrigerator, and the Italian necessity of an espresso machine. Milk, juices, yogurt and other essential breakfast ingredients were all conveniently included for free. While the supermarket was only four minutes’ walk away, we never quite got used to Alberobello’s unusually long Riposo when even gas station convenience stores closed between 13:00 and 17:00.
We thoroughly enjoyed every moment of our stay in this cozy little trullo -- relaxing and functional, conveniently walkable to everything in town, and as uniquely Pugliese as we dreamed of. In fact we would have loved to stay for a whole week to properly explore nearby Martina Franca, Locorotonto and Grotte di Castellana.
RESTAURANT REVIEWS
We tried three restaurants in town: one was mediocre enough that I won’t waste my time to review, and the other two did turn out quite enjoyable.
TRATTORIA AMATULLI
Via Garibaldi, 13, Alberobello; 1 minute walk from the main square (Piazza del Popolo)
Hidden inside a nondescript 19th Century city block just east of Piazza del Popolo, Trattoria Amatulli wasn’t exactly easy to stumble upon without a good map. But the little eatery has made its name among visitors for years, serving up a ginormous multi-course dinner of nothing but traditional local recipes, complete with house wine and a digestivo (Limoncello!) for a flat rate of 25 euros per person.
How ginormous are we talking about? Pictured here was just HALF of the Antipasti for two -- the full Antipasti wouldn’t even fit on one plate -- consisting of Salsiccia Stagionata from nearby Martina Franca, Capocollo Pugliese from local producers, and a robustly flavored hard cheese known as Canestrato Pugliese.
My favorite Pugliese cheese was these succulent white sacks of fresh Burrata, a firm and chewy mozzarella-like cheese with its signature thick cream oozing out from the centre. And for those who prefer a softer and milder cheese, generous wedges of the creamy Cacioricotta was also served. You can imagine how we were getting full after the Antipasti alone, with three more courses still to come.
Thankfully the Primo, a dish of handmade Ravioli ai Porcini, was much more manageable in size. We probably should have picked the other choice of Primo (Orecchiette of some form), as the Porcini here turned out quite bland compared with the Porcini we had in Alto Adige and Le Marche.
My wife was entirely full even before the arrival of this Porchetta al Forno con Patate as a Secondo, and I barely had room for half of it. The only thing we successfully finished was the 1/2 litre of house red included with our meal.
Dessert was again classic Pugliese from the local interpretation of the familiar Cantucci to the regional favorite of Tarallini. I couldn’t resist the offer of a free Limoncello to wrap up this massive meal, and paid for the decadence by waking up the next morning with a headache. While none of the dishes were out-of-this-world delicious, it was a fascinating gastronomic adventure through all the local specialties in one sitting, in a 4-course meal including wine and digestivo. Did I mention that the 25 Euros per person also includes the Coperto?
Bill for Two Persons
| Degustazione Menu | 25 Euros |
| Degustazione Menu | 25 Euros |
| TOTAL | 50 Euros (CAD$70) |
While Trattoria Amatulli was undoubtedly interesting, my tastebuds actually much preferred our lunch spot the next day in a seemingly more touristy joint.
IL TRULLO D'ORO
Via Felice Cavallotti, 27, Alberobello; located on the side street, 2 minutes walk to the north of Piazza del Popolo.
This was exactly the type of restaurant I usually try to avoid: situated right next to the town’s main drag, housed in some traditional architecture -- a cluster of 19th Century Trulli in this case -- and posting an English translation of its menu outside. But I have a superior radar with me -- my wife’s keen sense of smell picked up something special from the kitchen’s exhaust fans.
And she was absolutely right. We started with a superb Zuppa di Cozze that became the envy of the entire dining room when this giant pot of piping hot Mediterranean mussels arrived at our table. While one can usually depend on great seafood in Puglia, Alberobello was about an hour from the coastline and we did come across a stale sea bass at a different restaurant later that day. These mussels though simply couldn’t have been any fresher, and we certainly couldn’t have asked for a bigger portion for just 10 euros.
Featured prominently on the Primi section of the menu was the Pugliese favorite of Orecchiette in various sauces and preparations. At this point I hadn’t yet discovered the magic of Orecchiette con Cime di Rapa, and here we picked one with stewed lamb in a tomato based sauce, and one in a green pesto with Pancetta.
The Ragu Agnello was my favorite of the two Orecchietti, both priced reasonably at 9 euros despite the apparent popularity of the restaurant with tourists. That said, the best Orecchiette of our trip would come several days later outside of Puglia, at the town of Matera in Basilicata.
Bill for Two Persons
| Zuppa di Cozze | 10 Euros |
| Orecchiette con Ragu Agnello | 9 Euros |
| Orecchiette con Pesto e Pancetta | 9 Euros |
| Bottle of Water | 2 Euros |
| Coperto x 2 | 3 Euros |
| TOTAL | 33 Euros (CAD$46.2) |
