Chapter 3. In which nothing happens… more than twice.

So having successfully navigated the autostrada of death we finally arrived in our Trullo del Ulivo nestled deep in the ancient olive groves just outside Locorotundo.

We’re home.

Basking in the gentle embrace of a Puglian summer evening on our secluded patio, listening to the sounds of the countryside and indulging in rich red wine, this is what holidays are meant to be.

Not for us adrenaline fueled thrill seeking, early morning workouts or even sanctimonious sun salutes. Nope. Holiday time Mac-style is about doing nothing. With style.

We like to call it extreme lounging. And this destination permitted us to refine the concept to new-found depths.

The extent of our exigencies consisted of the daily 50 metre trek to our almost-private pool carrying as much beer, prosecco and fags as possible in order to obviate a return trip. We also exerted ourselves for an occasional vineyard tour, a sunset view in Cisternino – one of the many picture-perfect white washed hill towns in the region – and a convivial reunion lunch with local friends we met on a previous visit.

Puglia, with its laid back, laissez-faire attitude, its simple but sumptuous gastronomy,  its reluctance to pander to package-holiday-picture-on-the-menu profit is the perfect destination for us.

And for anyone with a sense of adventure (without extreme physical exertion), anyone who appreciates great food and wine (without the attitude) accompanied by breathtaking sunsets, anyone willing to put in the effort to get to know locals despite language barriers and of course anyone willing to take their lives in their hands on the Italian motorways.

Go soon, before some celebrity or self-styled “travel influencer” discovers it and ruins it for the rest of us…

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