Adriatic Tour from Lecce

Weeks before even starting this trip I tried to book a day trip for when I was in Lecce. I found one that I wanted to take that goes to four towns in the area, including one on each coast of the peninsula.

I found the tour on a couple of different booking platforms. But they both would book for only a minimum of two people. I’m one person.

I did some internet sleuthing and found the company that runs the tour. Its site also would sell tickets only for two or more people. But the website gave an email address.

I emailed them asking if I could book for just one person. They replied saying that they didn’t yet have any customers for any of the days I would be in Lecce, but contact them in a couple of weeks. If they have other participants they’d sell me a single ticket.

Long story short, after a couple more email exchanges, they told me they wouldn’t be running the tour on any of the days I’m in Lecce due to a lack of other customers. So, that’s one disadvantage to travelling outside of the high season.

The first day I got to Lecce, I went to a “tourist information” office, aka a place shilling tours and maps from third-parties. There were plenty of tours on offer, including one that wasn’t much different from the one I found on the web. But the problem was the same. They didn’t yet have other customers and companies running them wouldn’t run a tour for just one customer.

I went back yesterday to ask if the tour had any customers yet. Nope. They wouldn’t be running it on either of my remaining days, not that today was still an opportunity for me because I’d already booked the Jewish district walking tour for the morning.

Then I asked about another of the tours they advertised, a half-day Adriatic Tour from Lecce. The person in the office phoned the tour operator who told her it would be running tomorrow (now this) afternoon. The start of the tour left me a comfortable amount of time to take the Jewish district tour and have lunch. She booked me on it and took a small deposit.

She also gave me the name of the tour operator, Giorgio, and his number so I could contact him via WhatsApp, if necessary.

There was considerable hemming and hawing by the tourist information office person about the tour meeting point. Giorgio wasn’t involved in that hemming and hawing so I messaged him to confirm the location.

Adriatic Tour: Alone Again

Giorgio responded to let me know that was indeed the location. He also told me that he was doing a favour for the woman in the office. He doesn’t normally run tours with one customer, but I would be the only one on it.

His message asked me if I could please pay with cash. I went to a bank machine.

And Giorgio wouldn’t be the one taking out the tour. It would be Franco. Giorgio gave me Franco’s number so I could WhatsApp him if necessary.

It’s happened to me before that I’ve been a group of one on what’s supposed to be a group tour. I have mixed feelings about that sort of situation.

On the one hand, I get personal attention. On the other hand, I’ve never been good at making small talk. I’m deathly afraid that a guide I’m alone with will expect me to do so, and think less of me if I don’t.

I’ve told you people before. I’ll tell you again. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me. It’s not easy being me.

Franco

I got to the meeting point early and sent Franco a WhatsApp message to let him know that I was there in case he wanted to leave early.

Franco responded with just two words, “okok arrivo.”

I think “okok” was an attempt at “okay” or maybe just “ok.” Google Translate told me “arrivo” is Italian for “I arrive.”

A few minutes later a blue van pulled up, a man got out, approached me, and asked, Joel?

He then showed me the message I sent him via WhatsApp to confirm that I was indeed the right Joel because I’m sure Lecce is just crawling with Joels. Immediately below my English message, I saw an automated translation of it into Italian.

I said, “Si.” And to double confirm, I asked him, “Franco?” He corrected my pronunciation of his name, and confirmed that he was indeed Franco.

It turns out I needn’t have worried about having to make small talk. Franco doesn’t speak English. In fact, up until after our second stop, I didn’t think he spoke a single word of English. No words were spoken until we got to our first stop on the Adriatic Tour, Otranto.

Adriatic Tour Stop #1: Otranto

In Otranto, Franco stopped in a no-parking area, got out, and used Google Translate to let me know I had 90 minutes in Otranto. I used Google Translate to ask him if I should meet him in the same spot. I understood his “si.”

Franco then made some pointing motions and said, without the help of Google Translate, “castello.” He made some more pointing motions and said, “cattedrale.” I understood that those were the directions to the castle and the cathedral. And off I went.

I headed to the Otranto Cathedral first because my guidebook particularly recommended it. The cathedral, which was consecrated in 1088, has some frescoes, other paintings, and a few statues. But the real gem of the cathedral isn’t between its floor and ceiling. It is its ceiling and, particularly, its floor.

The ceiling is nicely decorated with gold, grey, and blue patterns. But the floor is the jewel. The whole floor is a giant mosaic with a wide variety of animals, a few humans, and some patterns. It’s rather on the amazing side.

There is a crypt, which extends under the apse of the cathedral. It contains a lot of not particularly decorated columns. I guess you need a lot of columns because having the apse collapse is probably a bad thing. There are some more frescoes down there.

I looked at the hulking castle from the outside, but I didn’t go in. For one thing, there’s an admission fee. For another, I didn’t have a lot of time.

Instead, I wandered around Otranto’s old town, looked at the sea from a public terrace, and wandered down to the seashore.

I loved the old town. It has small buildings that are less staid than the ones in Lecce’s old town. And the streets are narrow and uncrowded. Or, at least they were uncrowded today.

The Adriatic Sea is beautiful there. Close to the shore, it’s an aquamarine colour. Further out, it turns a deeper blue. Otranto has a small-boat marina on one end of its shore. The other has a wide promenade immediately by the sea.

Out in the water, there are some bands of stacked rocks. I assume they were placed there as breakwaters because they form straight lines. Mother nature tends to be more careless and haphazard than that. She should be more meticulous.

After a little more wandering, it was time to meet Franco again and continue the Adriatic Tour.

Cava di Bauxite

As we drove on, Franco said three words. I caught the first two, “Cava di.” But I couldn’t make out the third. I knew it started with a “B.” I figured it was the next destination on our Adriatic tour, so I pulled out my phone, opened up Google Maps, typed in “Cava di B” and waited for Google Maps to auto-complete the name. It turns out we were going to Cava di Bauxite.

It seems bauxite is spelled the same in English and Italian, but pronounced differently.

When we arrived at the destination, Franco parked on a red dirt road, we got out and walked. The path that Franco thought led to the Cava di Bauxite was chained off. We walked further. Franco saw another path heading off in the right direction. We followed it. It didn’t lead directly to the Cava di Bauxite.

I guess Franco hadn’t run this tour often because he called Giorgio, I imagine to ask how to get to the cava. He looked about and I think explained to Giorgio what he saw around him. Giorgio then seemed to give him some instructions, but that still didn’t get us to the cava.

Just then, another tourist wandered by. Franco asked her, in Italian, how to get to the cava. She didn’t speak Italian. She spoke English (not her mother tongue), but I couldn’t act as a translator between the two of them because of my lack of Italian. Nevertheless, she eventually figured out we were looking for the Cava di Bauxite and led us there.

The Cava di Bauxite is a hole in the ground that used to be a bauxite quarry. The bottom of the hole is filled with water and is now a small lake of a beautiful green-blue colour.

As we walked back from the Cava di Bauxite to Franco’s van, I learned that he does know a word of English. He said, “Beautiful?” I replied, “Si.”

He repeated “beautiful?” after pretty well all of the rest of the stops. I repeated “si.” But “beautiful” was the only word of English I heard him speak. So that might be the only English he knows. If you only know one word, “beautiful” is not a bad one. There are certainly worse words.

Continuing the Adriatic Tour

At each stop, before we got on our way, I dutifully buckled up my seatbelt. (I unbuckled it when we came to a halt at the stops because I’ve found through experience that it’s much easier to get out of a car or, in this case, a van if you unbuckle your seatbelt first.)

After one stop, as I started to buckle up, he pointed to himself and said something in Italian. Based on his hand gestures, I think he was telling me he doesn’t wear a seatbelt. Then he pointed to me and said something else in Italian. Again based on his hand gestures, I think it was something to the effect of, but you can if you want.

Damned right I want.

After stopping at the Cava di Bauxite, Franco used Google Translate to tell me where we were going next and a few words about each subsequent stop. That was a smart idea. Except for one thing. He often did this while driving. Sometimes on twisty, narrow roads. He used the microphone option, rather than typing the Italian. So, there’s that.

The problem is that Google Translate didn’t always understand him. And sometimes it didn’t do the translation at all. So he had to keep looking at his screen to check and repeat what he said if necessary.

The first thing I thought was, “Well, at least I’m wearing my seatbelt. If only one of us dies, it probably won’t be me.” Then I thought, “If I survive, but need to call for help, I don’t think the emergency number here is 911, like at home. Is it 999?” Then I thought, “If I do contact emergency services, will I be able to overcome the language differences and the lack of labelling on Google Maps and Apple Maps in the unpopulated areas to be able to give them coordinates to rescue me?” Finally, I thought, “Damn it. I’m going to get stranded out here, aren’t I?”

These thoughts recycled through my head every time Franco pulled out his phone and drove distractedly.

Like I said earlier, it’s not easy being me.

Nevertheless, Franco did get us to our destinations safely. And he somehow managed to stay in his lane most of the time. I think it’s his superpower.

But, enough about that. Let’s breeze through the rest of the Adriatic tour. Most of the remainder of the stops on the Adriatic tour were just photo opportunities. We stopped, Franco made the universal hand gesture for “take a photo,” and he pointed me in the right direction.

We stopped at a lighthouse; a cove that used to be a port for fishermen to come and sell their catches, but which is now abandoned; a spa where, according to Franco and Google Translate, elderly people go for spa treatments; and a few scenic lookouts on the sea.

At the spa, when he showed me the Google Translation of “elderly people go there for spa treatments.” I swear he looked at me meaningfully in relation to the “elderly people.” But I might have been imagining that.

We also stopped at the city of Castro. That was a little longer; a few minutes. There, Franco repeated what he did at Otranto. He made some pointing motions and said “castello.” He made some more pointing motions and said “cattedrale.” This time he made the take-a-photo gesture and didn’t specify a time to return, so I assumed that I was just to go out, take some pictures, and come back.

The castle and cathedral were close. I took my pictures and came back. I was going to duck into the cathedral, but there was a service going on at the time, so I couldn’t.

At various times while Franco was driving or we were at stops on the Adriatic Tour, Franco would say something to me in Italian without referring to Google Translate. I have no idea what he was saying any of those times. I think it might have been different variations of the Italian for something along the lines of, “We’ve been out here for more than two hours. Surely you’ve become fluent in Italian by now.” I may be wrong about that. How would I know?

At a couple of points while the coast was in sight he pointed across the Adriatic to a ridge of mountains that were just barely visible and said one word. I couldn’t quite make out that word, but I figured he was telling me what was there. So I pulled out Google Maps, zoomed out, and figured out that what he said was close enough to the English pronunciation of “Albania,” which was what Google Maps said was across the Adriatic from us.

At one of the stops where both of us got out to take in the Adriatic vista, Franco pointed in one direction and said what I think was the Italian for “Greece.” He then pointed in the other direction along the far coast and said what I think is the Italian for “Turkey.” I’m just glad he didn’t point to me and say the Italian for “turkey.”

After all that, Franco drove us back to Lecce and so ended a very scenic Adriatic tour, or at least a small part of the Adriatic coast.