is there poodle in my noodle

Embarking our ferry to Greece has been an entertaining experience; the Italian drivers honking their horns, tailgating and pushing in, while the Greeks forget they are under a strict time schedule, slowly and haphazardly driving their vehicles forward leaving 15 metre gaps, all while the port traffic staff wave their arms around in despair.

As the ferry pulled out of Brindisi port, we enjoyed stunning views of Alfonsino Castle, a 14th/15th Century structure located on a small island called Isola di Sant’Andrea.

Now, on the 8-hour ferry crossing managed by the Greek company Grimaldi Lines, we are surrounded by lubricated Grecian lorry drivers exuberantly sharing tales with warmth and gusto. Italy and Greece are geographical neighbours, separated by the Adriatic sea, however they are worlds apart in culture, attitude and tarmac quality.

As ever, the Internet resolved the age-old ‘how far is the horizon away’ debate. Fun fact: 3 miles away if you are standing on a beach, 2 miles if you’re on a chair, and a whopping 12 miles if you’re standing on a 100 foot cliff.

Our short trip down the east coast of Italy revealed life in three adjacent yet contrasting coastal towns. We initially, on the recommendation of Google, headed to Polignano A Mare, touted as one of the most beautiful towns in the south.

As lovely as it was, with a much-lauded small ancient old town and Insta-worthy beach, the town was teeming, and a quick spin around was quite enough. We gathered up our top hats and Scotty dogs and headed half an hour south to the underrated Monopoli, which has been our favourite town in Italy by some stretch.

Boasting a skate bowl, sea front, working port and harbour and labyrinthine alley ways, the friendly laid back vibe caught our hearts. Sadly no mountain backdrop here – just miles of flat vegetable cultivation, olive groves, wheat, and solar panels.

We parked up by the skate area, complete with a shower block, toilets and two rugged beaches nearby. A group of local youngsters oo-ed and ah-ed as grandpa Jem carved around the contours of the skate park. After a spectacular unintentional dismount to a chorus of ohhhhhhs, he is now nursing several bruises and a wonky shoulder, but has a huge smile on his face.

As staunch atheists, Italy and its countless ornate gilded Catholic religious buildings have been eye opening and sometimes objectionable in their ostentatiousness. But having visited a dozen or so churches, of all shapes and sizes, and despite our views, we have felt peace, calm and solice within their thick stone walls.

Last night we spent the evening in Brindisi, which on entry initially presented as a bleak dystopia of rundown tower blocks, before opening up into a jaw-dropping ancient old town and revitalised harbour promenade.

Late in the evening we sat in the pews of the cathedral, silently listening to a choir practising, and I can only describe the experience as ethereal. The doors open late into the night, the churches welcome all, and other visitors and worshippers greeted us as friends. While I don’t subscribe to the concept of a higher being, the community and inclusivity is warming, and our experiences have created a fresh perspective on what these grand buildings mean.

Next stop, the Vikos Gorge not far from the Greek/Albanian border for a spot of trail running 🥳