The 25th is definitely an extremely important family day in Italy. Absolutely everything was closed. And pretty much all day – after I left Taranto – I was the only person on the road. Coasting along through olive tree orchards and deserted villages as if in a dream. Sometimes, when I stopped in a village to quickly rest, old men would peek at me suspiciously through their windows.
Then the funniest thing happened:
I had reserved a room in a hotel in Porto Cesareo. When I arrived there, the door to reception was open, but the hotel was completely dark and all the room keys were hanging from their pegs. I walked through the ground floor. Shouted “Hello! Anybody there?” a couple times but no answer. All the doors were unlocked but I couldn’t find any signs of life. Finally, I called their number. About 5 times in a row they didn’t even accept the call and simply dropped it and I got the busy tone all of a sudden. When I finally managed to get through to them via text messages, they told me they didn’t want to come in, it being Christmas and all 🤔. So there I stood, reservation in hand, and also a hotel-management rebellion on my hands 🤣.
I finally just left. And drove through Porto Cesareo in search of a different bed for the night. Finally, I saw a small hotel with lights on. As I walked up to the door, I realized, however, that there was a big family Christmas party going on in the combined restaurant/ reception area. Nevertheless, the kind manager opened the door and let me in. Besides their own family, I was the first and only guest. The hotel manager checked me in. Right next to the reception was the Christmas tree. The kids were sitting under it, opening presents. Also right next to reception was a long table with about 20 family members enjoying their private Christmas party with lots of food. And in the midst of that stood I, a complete stranger, receiving my room key. The mom of the family came up to me and wished me a merry Christmas and then the hotel manager showed me quickly to my room.
Here I am now, with a bag of cookies and a bottle of water I thankfully bought yesterday. All restaurants and cafes are closed. The hotel is basically closed. I can hear the family laughing downstairs, their happy children laughing and running through the hallways with their freshly opened Christmas presents. I think one of them received a remote controlled little police car with a siren on it… oh boy… 🤣
It’ll be a long night with all that activity going on, but – most of all – it’s so damn charming. So incredibly sweet of the manager to open the door for me and check me in during his family Christmas party. He even took the time to search for a portable heater to warm up the freezing cold room quickly 🫠. I am quite delighted by the experience, albeit a bit hungry.
Puglia is starting to grow on me. How lovely that half of my genes originate from here. As it seems, a little Puglia in your cells and heart definitely can’t hurt.
The next morning, I wake up in a completely empty hotel. The little radiator they gave me last night worked wonders in my room, but the whole rest of the hotel feels colder than the North Pole.
I go downstairs to check out and to look for breakfast… and find an older gentleman who turns out to be the father of the guy who let me in and gave me shelter last night. The sweet old dad has come over extra to wait for me to get up. He has a croissant for me and a coffee and, most importantly, one of the warmest smiles I have ever seen.
We sit together at the freezing cold bar for a while and I tell him that I am half Pugliese myself, aiming to connect with my roots on this trip. He shares with me how much he loves to swim in the sea during winter.
We only have about 30min together, but they warm my heart. In the end, we shake hands several times and I’m almost a bit sad to say goodbye. What a wonderful, surprisingly not so lonely, start to another morning in Puglia ♥️
Tonight, I’m in Gallipoli and tomorrow evening, after 5 unforgettable days in Apulia, I’m flying home. It’s been a crazy trip. Many good moments, but also far from easy.
Summed up, the 24th and 25th were rough. I was cold, hungry, and completely alone most of the time. Never before have I seen streets so empty during Christmas. Every place seemed desolate and I felt truly like a guy in a Science Fiction film, left all alone in the world after everyone else has vanished. Because of that void, the brief and often kind encounters I did experience became even more profound and unforgettable.
Nevertheless, I felt a wave of happiness today when I arrived in Gallipoli. Human Beings! The Italians were out on the streets again.
That’s when it hit me, and I realized how much I had pushed through, and how heavy the extreme quiet and emptiness all around me had weighed on me these last few days.
Then, yesterday night, the 25th, had been tough on a whole other level, with the huge family partying downstairs in the hotel lobby and me up in my room alone with no food and not even a shower or warm water. I hadn’t felt lonely. Rather isolated to the extreme. What a trip. Tonight, I had my first real meal in days. Not just a picnic with crackers. Bliss. It’s been a while since I ate so consciously, savoring every bite.
Strangest Christmas ever. And far more fulfilling as it may sound at this moment…