Savoring Southern Italy- September 2025
Six Suitcases, One Sun-Drenched Dream: A Women’s Journey Through Puglia
We arrived as six women with busy lives and overfull calendars—and left as a tapestry of shared laughter, salt-kissed hair, and stories that will be told and retold like family legends. Puglia received them the old-fashioned way: slowly, warmly, and with a table always waiting.
Our adventure unfolded in the timeless beauty of Matera, where stone remembers everything. Wandering through the ancient Sassi, they traced quiet stairways carved from history itself. As the light shifted across the honey-colored rock, conversation softened, and even the most talkative among them found herself listening—to the wind, to the echoes, to something deeper and older than words. Matera doesn’t rush you. It teaches you how to linger.
In Gallipoli the rhythm turned coastal, where the sea glitters with personality and the old town floats like a dream tethered to the mainland. Bare feet met warm stone, laughter drifted down narrow streets, and long seaside meals stretched pleasantly into the evening. The sunsets were theatrical, the kind that stops conversations mid-sentence and reminds you how small—and how lucky—you are.
In Lecce, baroque beauty met espresso-fueled energy. Ornate façades curled and flourished in golden stone, and every corner seemed designed for wandering without a plan. Between cathedral visits, boutique browsing, and people-watching from café tables, time became delightfully irrelevant. Decisions grew simple: coffee or wine… now or in five minutes.
The hilltop glow of Ostuni, the White City, offered a moment of quiet awe. Its sun-washed walls reflected light like a beacon above the olive groves. From ancient balconies, the women gazed across a countryside stitched together by twisting roads and silver-green trees that have stood for centuries. Here, everything felt clean, calm, and beautifully unhurried.
Then came the storybook wonder of Alberobello. The trulli—those whimsical white cone-roofed houses—sparked childlike wonder with every turn. Laughter followed them through the village as they explored shops tucked into ancient stone, pausing constantly for photos and marveling at how a place can feel both fantastical and deeply rooted in tradition.
Out on the water near Monopoli, the journey found its wild, sunlit freedom. A private boat skimmed along rugged limestone cliffs and secret coves where the sea shimmered in impossible shades of blue. Hair tangled in the wind, glasses raised in cheerful toasts, they let the rhythm of the waves do what Italy does best—slow the heart and lift the spirit. There is something ancient and healing about salt air and horizon lines.
Six women. and many unforgettable destinations. One generous region that fed them beauty, wine, history, and just enough mischief to ensure lifelong stories. We arrived in Puglia as travelers. They left as witnesses—to deeper friendships, lighter souls, and the quiet truth that Italy doesn’t just change your scenery.
It changes your rhythm.
And once it does—well, you never quite walk the same again.
