If I were to describe our field trip to Southern Italy in three words, I’d choose successful, magical, and indescribable. Successful because I walked 10 miles in one giorno, two giorni in a row, leading me to believe in vast gluteal muscle improvements and thus a shot at achieving athleticism someday. Magical because I experienced some of the most beautiful, otherworldly sites and views I’ve ever seen, which leads me to indescribable, for neither words nor pictures can do Puglia justice.
I must admit – this trip was exhausting. By the end of each day, my limbs felt like melted gelato, my brain one gooey, heterogeneous mixture of all the things I’d seen over the course of 12 hours. Consequently, I got the most incredible sleep of my life. I was out like a luce and slept like a roccia, dreaming of violet wisteria alongside salmon-pink stucco, of frescos and stone castles, of Neapolitan pizza and the salty scent of the sea.
When we arrived in Matera our first day, my mouth was hanging by its hinges for the entire first hour. Aside from the crystal-blue sky and various bursts of flora, we were surrounded by cream-colored stone – the paths, the stairs, the buildings, all leading us up and around until we reached our stone, sun-soaked hotel. Jeffrey had informed us that we’d be sleeping in caves, and we were delighted to find our “caves” well equipped with wooden floors, soft beds, showers, and running water. In fact, every building in Matera is technically a cave, for the city was carved from a mountain. Inhabited since 10,000 BC, it’s one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in the world and, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful.
Early next morning, we drove to Alberobello, home to the famous cone-roofed Trulli (and a popular vacation destination for Madonna!). Like in Matera, I felt as though I’d been plopped into a fairytale. Trulli lined the narrow roads like little goblin hats wearing white brick coats, buttoned to the brim. I purchased a handwoven parasol from a small vendor, making me one step closer to achieving my childhood dream of looking like Monet’s Woman with a Parasol.
By afternoon, we were in yet another city! Bari, a port city that rests snugly against the Adriatic Sea. In search of a snack, Jax and I instead found ourselves atop a Ferris Wheel, getting a magnificent view of the sea and a good dose of wind.
The following day, we bussed to Castel del Monte, a 13th century citadel and castle that sits upon a hill in Andria. Although I loved exploring the castle’s light-filled interiors, I was so delighted by all the little flowers that sprung from the grass and surrounded the castle, as if they were forming a protective, floral moat.
Next stop? Pompeii. This was probably my favorite part of the entire trip; it was so surreal. The air was warm but the sky exuded a cool grey, a slightly ominous shadow that reminded us of Mt. Vesuvius and its destruction of the ancient city. At the same time, the ruins gave us a glimpse into the divine beauty of the past – frescos, altars and columns, all still ornamented and brightly colored, glistening seashells from thousands of years ago, frozen in time, intermingling with the foliage and becoming one magical, timeless habitat.
That night, we arrived in the city of Napoli, and it was this very night, April 15th, 2018, that I had the best pizza of my entire life. At first glance, my pizza appeared deliciously simple. Creamy buffalo mozzarella, roasted cherry tomatoes and fresh basil pesto, dolloped across the softest, most cushiony, olive-oil-brushed crust you can imagine. But then – there, in the center, was a large bubble stuffed with arugula and cheese. Soon I was blissfully stuffed too. I unfortunately have zero photographic evidence, due to the rate at which I inhaled this delicacy.
Although the next day was jam-packed with visitations to remarkable sites and museums, my favorite part was walking around the city, seeing rows of clothing fluttering against the vivaciously colored apartments, blooming redbud trees lining the streets, and children laughing and playing with their siblings in alleyways.
The next day may have been our last on the field trip, but it was perhaps our most eventful. My personal highlights include the Palazzo Zevallos Stigliano, at which I saw some of the most incredible oil paintings (including Caravaggio’s final painting), and Certosa di San Martino, where I was blown away by the most exquisite Cinderella-esque carriages and a breathtaking view of Naples.
Our departure was no easy task, for the bus had to maneuver us up the skinny, winding streets, full of cars, scooters and pedestrians. When we finally made it onto the highway, after our bus driver yelled out his window and stopped traffic numerous times, we clapped for his success and sighed in relief. Soon, the snoring began. Back to Roma we go!
Sabine