Raffaele’s last post

There have been no new posts from me since I have returned to what passes for normality in Adelaide.

As you can tell if you have read my blog I had a great time. One of the best things I have ever done and something that I unreservedly recommend to anyone considering a holiday with a difference.

So what have I been doing and what if any link have I maintained with Lecce and Italy?

One of the reasons I have neglected this blog is that I have started a new one, Learn Italian in Lecce focusing on Lecce as a study destination. I am now also the Australian contact for the School of Italian for Foreigners in Lecce. In that role I will be doing my best to promote Lecce to Australians and anyone else thinking of going to Italy to study some Italian.

The missing Puglia Blogs: #1 – Death in Lecce

Death is a very serious business in Italy and every town has a cemetery that is worth a visit.

The first thing that struck me is that funeral notices are done very differently to Australia. 

Nothing in the papers – instead posters are made announcing the death and the funeral and these are plastered on walls and billboards, presumably near to where the deceased lived.

The second thing that struck me is that above ground burial in crypts is very popular.

Naturally the richer and more important the family, the grander the crypt. Some look like small churches, while others look like houses. And there are community crypts for people who can’t afford their own with tombs stacked up high like marble boxes in a warehouse.

Lecce Epilogue

Eight  reasons to put Lecce at the top of your list of potential destinations if you are thinking about studying Italian in Italy.  By the way it also happens to be a great place for a holiday.

1. The city: Lecce is a beautiful, elegant baroque city steeped in tradition and history. The historical old city is stunning. The baroque architecture, museums and art galleries alone definitely make a visit worthwhile and the people are warm, friendly and welcoming.
2. The region: Lecce is in the Salento region of Puglia and within easy reach of beautiful places to visit. They include the UNESCO listed towns of Alberobello and Matera, the white hill top town of Ostuni, Putignano famed for its Carnevale parades and the picturesque coastal towns of Gallipoli, Otranto and Santa Maria di Leuca.
   
3. The courses: The 10 week course I did was excellent. My teachers were highly skilled and very patient. The maximum class size is 12. Because it was the northern winter the classes were even smaller – lots of individual attention guaranteed. The cost of the courses is very reasonable and the University of Salento is one of only a handful of public universities in Italy offering Italian for Foreigners.

Another exam! Didn’t you just finish?

L-R: Anna-Raffaele-Valentina-Cristian-Angelo

Earlier on my journey I told you about Cristian Telesco, who is doing a study on the migration of people from Puglia to Australia and beyond.

I met Cristian early in my trip when he asked me to participate in a seminar he has been organising in Lecce about his work.

It meant returning to Lecce one more time. The seminar was held last Friday (1 April).

Cristian asked me to talk about my memories and experiences as the son of post WW2 migrants to Australia from Puglia.

He said I could do it in English and he would translate. I was honoured to be asked, accepted and then set myself the task of doing it in Italian.

My course is over and I am dreaming in Italian

I had my last lesson last week and I had my exam this morning. My course is over. I can’t believe how quickly the past 10 weeks have flown past.

The first time I came to Italy was with Janet in March 1986, almost 25 years to the day and in a bizarre case of déjà vu, that year Ronald Reagan bombed Libya while we were in Italy, and a few weeks later Chernobyl exploded.

Other than the bizarre repeat of history 25 years later (Libya and Fukushima) two things stick in my mind about my first visit. The first is the very odd feeling that comes from looking like you belong without any of the shared life experience of actually being local. Like when you are asked for directions by Italians and can only shrug your shoulders.

The feeling is very difficult to describe. It actually has its advantages. You are less easily picked as a tourist and I have never been ripped off, even in Naples where I have been four times.

The second was the frustration of not being able to communicate beyond the basics of food, transport and accommodation – especially when Libya was exploding just to the South.

This is my fifth time in Italy. I am now very comfortable here and by virtue of 10 weeks of intensive Italian and having to use Italian everyday to communicate, my language skills are much better than they were.

As Libya and Japan unfolded in recent weeks I could watch Italian television and read Italian newspapers and understand the detail of what was happening in a way that I could not have done 25 years ago.

I am not fluent yet, the grammar still bothers me but I am understanding more and more as each day passes and I am now dreaming in Italian. 

Carnevale in Putignano

The Carnevale celebration in Putignano is one of the biggest and oldest in Italy. I hadn’t even heard of it until I started to do research for my trip and remembered I would be in Italy for Carnevale.

This one has a long history of using Carnevale for biting political and social comment, mercilessly lampooning the politicians of the day. As you would expect Silvio features strongly.

Among others this year’s parade included floats about BP and the Gulf of Mexico, waste disposal, and the North-South divide in Italy. I’m sure if time permitted they would have had a float on Ghaddafi – apparently Silvio and the Colonel are great mates.

It’s great fun and the whole town gets involved with people filling the streets. There will be another parade in the evening of 8 March after which there will be a huge bonfire with the locals partying long into the night – the last chance for gluttony, lusty sinfulness and mischief making before Lent starts on 9 March

That’s enough from me. Instead check out the video and the slide show and as always double click on the pics for bigger images. This link will take you to the Putignano Carnevale website.

News Flash: There is a heaven…

I found heaven today. Well if not exactly heaven then at least heaven’s kitchen. 

It’s a place call Cibus, a restaurant in the hilltop town of Ceglie Messapica about 85kms north east of Lecce.

This town is away from the coast in the hills. It is pastoral country – sheep, cattle, goats and the menu reflects this. No sign of fish or seafood. They take their meat seriously here and roasts are big. Every butcher has their own wood fired oven. You order your meat and they cook it for you. Pick it up, take it home and bog in.

If god eats in restaurants, this would be on his (or her) list. These pictures [click here] will give you a good idea of the feel and look of the town, the restaurant and the food . The best thing I can do here is talk about our food and one of the best meals I have ever had.

How Italians tell the time

I know this is cheating but after my last blog I thought I would give you something to laugh at.

I promise I will do something original next time.

Thanks to my sister Dorina for this one.

Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty*

What the world needs now....

This video has nothing to do with my trip other than it happened in Italy. It was posted to my Facebook page so I thought I would stick it on my blog.

* “Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty” -  Anne Herbert

Mario

This is Mario.

I met Mario in Piazza Castromedian.

In the piazza are three well graffitied copper and glass structures that look a bit like modern art. They are in fact windows to an underground Roman city, discovered during excavations some years ago.

Mario explained to me that they were connected to the nearby Roman amphitheatre and that much of the old walled city is built over the old Roman town.

Lecce was a town near the Appian Way which linked ancient Rome to the Adriatic Sea. It ended on the coast where Brindisi is now.

Anyway Mario must have thought I was in need of divine help as he insisted on showing me Chiesa Sant’Angelo, the church he goes to every morning for mass and communion.

Divella pasta factory - who needs workers?

Divella is the second biggest pasta company in Italy after Barrilla. Today we were taken on a tour of the Divella factory near Bari.

Two things struck me. The size - it is enormous - and how few people actually work there. This was modern, sanitised, automated manufacturing at its starkest. The only humans I saw were people minding the machines, technicians in white coats and fork lift drivers. The rest is all done by industrial robots and automated production lines.The giant warehouse reminded me of the final scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Raffaele's walk to uni - the movie

Ciao a tutti. Cinque settimane restano...

Today is the end of week 5 of my course. I am now half way through. So how is it all going? 

Before I answer that question I want to introduce you to the people at the Scuolo di Italiano per Stranieri at the University of Salento that I have most contact with.

Anna is the main contact person for the Italiano per Stranieri  program. She also teaches the advanced class. Valentina is my grammar teacher, while Laura takes us for conversation.

Lava, blood and bullshit

Naples - some final observations

Lava

Every thing I've ever read  about Vesuvius  has said that it is one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world . 

It has erupted 22 times since 1660. That's about seven eruptions every century for the last three centuries. The last major eruption was in 1944 destroying four nearby villages. Vesuvius is very much alive and it 's due.

Over the years urban development has crept ever closer, with the most recent, mostly illegal constructions, on the volcano's slopes (see arrows on pic). Fatalistic, in denial or plain stupid, Vesuvius will ultimately decide these people’s fate and maybe all of Naples.

Start spreading the news…

Okay so you are an intrepid traveler, you've decided to commit time to Naples and you want to find out about how the city works. 

You’ve scoured the internet for information and bought Lonely Planet but you really want local knowledge.  How do you get it?

New York might just have part of the answer. Just like Naples, New York City suffered from an image problem with potential visitors thinking the city was too dangerous, too expensive and too overwhelming.

In 1992 the Big Apple Greeter was born. The Big Apple Greeter is a free service run by the City of New York whereby visitors can meet a real New Yorker and find out how the city ticks. My family and I used the service a few years ago and it was fantastic.

Napoli 101: See naples and live

I am a big fan of Penelope Green's books about Italy and in particular See Naples and Die. With apologies to Penelope here is my attempt at a Naples inspired Haiku.

See Naples and live

See Naples before you die

See Naples and weep

Friday 4 February was my first day in Naples with the sun and the wind collaborating to produce a stunning day. I can say without reservation I have never seen it more beautiful. Look at my picture of Vesuvius and the Bay of Naples and tell me I am wrong. However Naples is not always like this and appearances can be deceiving. It is not an easy city to get to know and like.

Am I actually learning anything?

This is Tiziana. I met Tiziana on the train to Naples recently (3 Feb).

It was the end of the fourth week of my course and I was starting to feel that I wasn’t learning very much.

I was starting to doubt the value of what I was doing. In particular I am finding the grammar hard going.

Tiziana is from Bari and was on her way back to Rome where she is closing in on a journalism degree with only a few exams to go before she finishes. She sat opposite me, offered me something to eat and we started talking. Three hours later we stopped when I had to change trains for Naples.

Only 6,643 to a Serie A game?

How come in soccer mad Italy an important Serie A match only attracts about 6,643 people?

I went to the Lecce v Cesena game on Sunday and was very surprised at how small the crowd was.

Lecce (4th from bottom) haven’t had a great season and neither have Cesena (3rd from bottom). Both are fighting to avoid relegation.

But this was an important game. It was Lecce’s home game and they have been playing well in recent weeks scoring a win against Lazio and worthy draws against Milan and Fiorentina, all teams much higher on the ladder. A win would have put them fifth to bottom and given them some much need breathing space. So why the poor crowd?

Scottish theme bars in Lecce?

I’ve taken to exploring Lecce’s music scene and given that this is a city of fewer than 100,000 inhabitants the music scene seems to be a very lively one with young people filling venues late into the night.

Cover bands of American and British rock are very popular. Lecce is probably too small to be on the circuit for big rock acts so if you want to hear the music played live then cover bands are the go. So far I’ve seen the Doors and Bon Jovi. The musicians have been good and the performers entertaining. I look forward to finding some Italian music.

And to date I haven’t seen any evidence of binge drinking. All the venues are bars and they also serve food. People sit around tables eating and drinking before the bands come on at around 10.00pm. Italians eat late and young Italians eat out, so they go out for a meal with their friends at a bar and then take in some music.

And what is it with Scottish theme pubs in Lecce?

Two of the venues I’ve found are Scottish theme pubs. The William Wallace Pub and the Scot’s Lion bar. The William Wallace is where I saw the Bon Jovi band. Lots of dark wood, flags of St Andrew’s cross, and medieval soldiers’ helmets and chain mail. It served Scottish beer on tap and Mexican food. Maybe Scottish food was a bridge too far.

Not a Scot to be seen. All Italians, I was the only tourist and I didn’t look like one.

Next on my list is jazz and blues at Scot’s Lion next Wednesday night.

Francis Ford Coppola ate here

Today I was taken to lunch at Le Zie, a trattoria somewhere in Lecce. Its main claim to fame is that Francis Ford Coppola has eaten there and there is a picture on the wall to prove it. Francis Ford Coppola comes from Lecce.

Antonio is Melina’s husband and today I met his sister Daniella, her husband Cosimo and their son Roberto. Also at lunch were Melina, Astrid, Ilaria and Maria and Irena who you met in a previous post.

Sunday is very important in Italy. It’s the day for the family to gather, often including the extended family, for a big lunch and then afterwards the men watch the soccer while the women chat in the kitchen. You either eat at someone’s house or you go out to what is essentially a family restaurant serving home style food that you (ie the women) don’t have to cook yourself. That’s what Le Zie (the Aunties) is.

Le Zie has a nondescript front and sign in a nondescript street well away from the fashionable part of town. The décor will not win awards and nor will the food. But today for me was the sort of experience that travelers crave but rarely have because to find places like Le Zie you either need local knowledge or you need to be lucky enough to bump into one by accident. Local knowledge was on my side today and we had a great lunch.

What we ate
I must add here I didn’t eat all this myself. It was put on the table and shared.

Anti pasti
Frittata, Potato and Artichokes, Grilled Eggplant, and Pettole (light, savoury, deep fried balls of dough).

Primi Piatti
Orrechiette with tomato sugo and meatballs. Instead of grated pecorino I was persuaded to try mine with ricotta forte. This is a fermented, creamy, salted ricotta that tastes a bit like gorgonzola only stronger. Delicious but packs a punch.

Pasta e ceci (chick peas). Fresh, wide fetuccine is made (1cm wide). Some is deep fried and set aside. The rest is then added to the cooked chick peas when they are nearly cooked. The crispy fried pasta is then added to the dish. The result is a delicious double textured dish that I can’t do justice to here. I liked this one the best.

Zuppa di grani, fagioli e salsiccia picante. In the south they often substitute cooked wheat for pasta or rice. This was one such dish – a rich stew of wheat, cannellini beans and spicy sausage. Yum.

Potato, mussel and zucchini bake. A stunning dish of layered zucchini, potatoes and mussels with a little tomato, herbs and finished off with breadcrumbs.

After all that we passed on the meat and went to the fruit and dessert.

Fruit and greens
Slices of sweet honey dew melon, prickly pear, and young fennel, cool, aromatic and firm in the mouth.

Dolce
Pasticiotto torta – a delicious custard filled flan that was to die for. Local delicacy.

Ricotta casatta – best described very inadequately as sweet ricotta ice-cream.

Crostata – Another flan this time filled with an almond, hazelnut and walnut paste. Again my description is very inadequate. Sublime.

All finished off with coffee and liqueur. I had a smooth fennel liqueur that caressed my throat as I imbibed.

After all that it was back to the house to watch the soccer. No dinner tonight.

Does SA have a special relationship with Puglia?

It’s difficult to find any sign that South Australia has any relationship with Puglia let alone a special one. I did find Blundstone boots for sale for €145 in an exclusive shoe shop but of course they are made in Tasmania.

No Coopers or Jacobs Creek yet. I will keep looking.

I did find this window though. I think it would have summed up beautifully in a very tasteful, 16th century kind of way, what the people of Lecce would have thought of the mean spirited, insular provincialism of Rann, Foley et al had they known them.

Actually the window is part of what used to be a bordello in the 16th or 17th century. The story goes that the brothel owners were prohibited by the authorities of the time (church, state, or both) from openly advertising the true nature of their business, hence the pattern chosen for the wrought iron grill on this window.

People are nothing if not resourceful at getting around rules imposed from on high.

Linguistic faux pas to avoid in Italy

Traveling overseas has many traps for the unwary. One is making unintended cultural and language faux pas. Let me illustrate.

Faux Pas #1 – Vecchio, anziano and antico. They all mean old so which one do you use and when? Up until now I’ve been using vecchio to describe old Lecce. While technically correct it turns out to be a bit of an insult. You see vecchio doesn’t just mean old, it means old, run down and crappy and can be used for people as well. I should have used antico which means antique or historically old while anziani is used to simply mean old and nothing more.

Faux Pas #2 – Finocchio. Finocchio means fennel. It is also a slang pejorative for gay or homosexual. Our closest equivalent is the “p” word. So describing a young fennel bulb as cool, aromatic, firm in the mouth and delicious when drizzled with olive oil, could either endear you to the cook or get you a completely different result altogether depending on your inclinations and the company you keep.

Faux Pas #3 – Piselli or Pisello.  What is it with Italians, food and sexual euphemisms? Piselli is plural and is the Italian word for peas. Pisello is singular and should mean one pea but no. It's actually slang for small penis. So Silvio Berlusconi ha piselli means Silvio Berlusconi has peas, while Silvio Berlusconi ha un pisello means Silvio Berlusconi has a small...You get the picture or maybe you would rather not!.

Is that weird or what #2

Check out the optical artifacts in this photograph. Faint white rings all over the picture. The picture was taken inside of the Church of the Dead in Foggia. The church had been closed for many years. It was in a very  run down state before repair and restoration.

The Church of the Dead reopened on Sunday 17 January and I was lucky enough to be one of the first to look inside.

Anyway back to my photo. I cannot explain the optical artifacts. No the lens wasn’t dirty –  I did think of that.  The pictures I took outside the church do not have them nor do pictures I took after leaving.

What about dust in the air refracting the light, I hear you say? The church was spotless, newly reopened after extensive renovations. The light was even, coming in though the door way and a number of windows. There was no dust to be seen.

I don’t know why it was called the Church of Dead but I’m sure it was for a good reason so maybe I have captured the ghosts of those who came before. I can’t explain it. Maybe you can.

Is that weird or what?

You can lead a horse to water…

In Italy, particularly away from the big cities, many people do not buy their week’s shopping all at once like we do. You buy your food from the local produce market and you only buy what you need for a day or two pretty much guaranteeing what you buy and eat are as fresh as they can be.

The produce markets in Foggia are among the best in Southern Italy are on every morning except Sundays. One whole street in the CBD becomes a fresh food market with beautiful produce from around the region. Come hell or high water it is there. Parking is a nightmare but the food is great. It is always crowded.

A few years ago someone in local government had a bright idea. They decided to build an undercover market, with plenty of parking just outside the CBD.

What began as a good idea at the time received more and more resistance until eventually the whole thing was abandoned and the market returned rain or shine, to its original home in the streets of downtown Foggia. The traders don’t want it any other way and neither to the customers.

I guess you can lead a horse to water…

The Lizard King lives in Lecce.

Went to see an Italian Doors cover band last week. What a hoot. Lots of 20 and 30 somethings all dressed in black being very groovy watching the Italian incarnation of the Lizard King doing his thing. And yes he still wears leather pants. Very fetching too!!!

I was definitely the oldest one there and the only person who was a contemporary of the real Doors.

Pizza and wine capped off a fun if bizarre night.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlSDjIdEtKo

Does Raf really have relatives in Italy?

Thought it was time for some photographic evidence.

Today is the Festa di St Ilaria. It is the name day for my second cousin Ilaria which basically means another reason to eat lunch at Melina's house.

Pic: At the back from left are Ilaria, Antonio, Melina and Astrid. At the front are Maria and Irena.

Melina is my cousin, Antonio is her husband and Ilaria and Astrid their two daughters. Maria and Irena are Antonio's aunts.

Today we had two kinds of pasta. The first a north Italian dish of thin tubed pasta with a sauce made from skinned Italian sausage broken up, tomato, cream and cheese.

The second was tagliatelle with a Napolitana sauce. Instead of grated cheese on top we had a mixture of coarsely ground walnuts and breadcrumbs. Yum.

Off to Foggia tomorrow to see more relatives.

Make him an offer he can’t refuse

Soon after I arrived in Lecce my cousin Melina offered me her guest room instead of living in the apartment the university has found me. It is completely self contained with en suite bathroom and all the mod cons.

Her offer is very generous but three months is a long time. Paraphrasing Janet’s mum Ruth, “Unwelcome guests are like fish in the sun. The longer they stay the worse they smell”. I don’t know if I quoted her correctly but you get the picture.

I’ve decided to accept her offer. I hope I don’t turn into a smelly fish and outstay my welcome. My rationale is this.

The apartment and its location are great and the price is definitely right. It would be a great place to stay with other people.

The problem is living alone. It means the only Italian I use when I am not at the university is tourist Italian – food, drink, shopping, transport, asking directions. I am already good at that stuff. It is not what I need.

Melina and her family speak very little English. Living there I would be immersed in the complexity of every day Italian in a way that is not possible living alone and forcing me well and truly out of my comfort zone.

The half an hour walk from her house to the university is a small price to pay.

Besides she is a wonderful cook. Her orrechiete con cime di rape today was fantastic.

What the hell is study? You mean I actually have to work?

I have been doing my Italian course now for three days. Today it dawned on me how much I don’t know and I panicked a bit. The gaps in my vocabulary and knowledge of how the language works suddenly looked like gaping chasms. Not only that but I am having to re-establish study habits that have long been dormant.

All this came with the realisation I am actually doing a university course with rigour and integrity. I haven't done any formal grammar since I did French and Latin in Year 10 in 1971!!!

I have good teachers in Valentina and Laura and each day I have four hours tuition comprised of two hours of grammar and two hours of conversation. English is only spoken in an emergency and every day I get about two hours homework to do.

It’s exhausting and I am finding I don’t have a lot of time for other things. I am sleeping very well.

Talk about individual attention. There is nowhere to hide.There are only four students in the grammar class, me, Margaret a young American from Long Island, Miki a young woman from Japan and Shan from China. In the conversation class there are only two, Margaret and me.


If I actually get through this my I think my Italian will be pretty good.

Is that weird or what?

Just when you think the world can’t get any smaller or more bizarre something weird happens. Did someone say six degrees of separation? Check this out.

- My cousin Melina knows a man, Cristian Telesco, who is doing a thesis on the migration of people from Puglia to Australia, the USA, Argentina and elsewhere.
- She tells him about her uncle, my father, who migrated to Australia.
- His research brought him to Australia and the Australian archives where he found my father’s file with information such as the ship he came out on, the date of arrival and where he went work.
- Cristian has contacted me and wants to talk to me about my father and my experience as a first generation migrant child.
- There is a conference in Lecce while I am here on Pugliese migration and he has asked me to participate.

Weird huh? Well hang to your hat because the twighlight zone is coming.

- Cristian was in Adelaide in 2008
- He met and interviewed Mike Rann and Sasha
- Has had contact with Nicola Sasanelli, sometime artist, former Scientific Attaché at the Italian Embassy Canberra, and now European envoy for the SA government.

Pugliagate has followed me all the way to Italy. Is that weird or what?

When is Raf going to talk about the food?

This first thing you need to know about this is that I have relatives in Lecce.  My cousin Melina, who is my age, and her family. Before now I had only met them once, very briefly in 2009 when Janet and I did our cycling trip around the heel of Italy.

When you have relatives in Italy you get looked after, particularly when you are the long lost cousin from Australia. Their hospitality as been wonderful. Melina and her family have welcomed me with open arms into their family as though I had always been there.

Talk about the original super woman. Melina is a consulting gynaecologist, her husband Antonio is a doctor in emergency medicine and intensive care at the Lecce public hospital and they have two teenage daughters, one of whom has a significant disability. On top of all that she is a great cook.

So what did we eat?

Day 1. Italian sausages served with potato salad made with whole tiny boiled spuds dressed with olive oil, finely chopped parsley, garlic and salt; and a green salad.

Day 2. Home made beef soup with baby pasta followed by slow cooked beef pizzaiola, beef cooked with tomatoes, capers, garlic and dried oregano until the meat falls apart; and a green salad.

Day 3. Hand made local pasta served with a tomato sugo or sauce in which meatballs and chunks of beef had been imparting their flavour by slowly cooking all morning, and of course the meatballs themselves.

All the meals ended with fresh fruit and Italian Christmas sweets left over from the festive season. Today we finished off with a beautiful aged grappa. Perfetto.

Three days for three beautiful lunches of fantastic home cooking. Who needs restaurants?

Puglia? What you wanna go there for?

I recently caught up with my older brother who, for reasons that are irrelevant to this story, I hadn’t seen for a number of years.

When I told him I was going to Italy for three months to learn Italian his immediate response was to ask “What you wanna go there for?”

My brother is 65 years old, ten years older than me, he is my mother’s son by her first marriage and part of the great post war migration to Australia in the 1950s. She married her first husband, a soldier, as World War 2 was drawing to an end in 1945. He did not survive to see the end of the war or his son.

My mother came from the city of Foggia in the region of Puglia in Southern Italy which occupies much of the calf and all of the heel of the Italian peninsular. During the war it was an important strategic railway hub linked to the ports of Bari, Brindisi, Taranto and others for the movement of troops and equipment to Greece, Africa and elsewhere.

As a result the advancing allied forces targeted Foggia with their bombers, leveling much of the city. Foggia was laid waste leaving a post war period of desperate poverty, deprivation, and hopelessness.

One of my brother’s earliest memories of Italy was visiting a family living in great poverty in what he described as a pile of rocks in the country side. The people living there brought out some bread to share. He vividly remembers olive oil being poured onto the bread and having to pick out the ants before they could eat it.

This is my brother’s Italy and he wants nothing to do with it even if the Italy of 2011 is unrecognisable from the one he left behind.

The irony is that in today’s Puglia, houses made of piles of rocks are still there. In fact there is a whole town made of them – the UNESCO listed Alberobello where the "piles of rocks" or Trulli are now highly desirable houses, chic hotels, flash restaurants and exclusive shops.

It is very unlikely that I will ever convince my brother that it is worth going to Italy. But he does pose a perfectly legitimate question – Puglia? What you wanna go there for? - something that my very supportive, friends and family would never ask.

Let’s see if I can find out – I’ve got three months to do it.

Silence at 70,000 feet – who breaks the ice?

Just what is the etiquette of breaking the ice and talking to a complete stranger trapped and sitting next to you in a passenger jet for many hours? I have just arrived in Italy having completed a two leg, 25 hour journey on Malaysian Airlines. I am travelling alone and so get to sit next to complete strangers. Twenty five hours of saying nothing is a long time so who makes the move and why?

On both legs of my flight to Rome I sit next to young women.

The crying game

On the first leg from Adelaide to Kuala Lumpur I sit next to a 20 something young woman I guess to be a English tourist returning home. I guess because I didn’t speak to her at all other than to ask her to move so I could go to the toilet although I did recognize her from the check in queue.

So why didn’t I engage with her? I took my seat first. When she came to sit down I noticed she was crying in quiet, deep sobs. I think I made a decision I didn’t want to know. She sobbed for half the more the six hours it took to fly to KL and slept for most of the rest.

When the flight was over she got up and let me step out into the flow of passengers alighting from the plane.

A few minutes later in the transit lounge our paths cross and we exchange smiles as she heads for her flight and I wait for mine.

My parents make clothes in Bali

The leg from KL to Rome is a much longer flight – more than 12 hours and once again I sit next to young woman. It’s the over night leg leaving KL at around midnight local time and arriving in Rome at about 6.00am.

I again decide not to engage but this time for no other reason that I had just taken a hay fever tablet which promised to induce much desired drowsiness when taken in conjunction with alcohol.

12 hours of silence is a long time and so at about the 10 hour mark and no anti histamine stupor left to speak of, I break the ice. Her name is India. She is Italian, 17 years old and heading home for the start of the new school year.

India has been living in Bali with her parents for a number of years where she has been going to an international school. They now want her to compete her schooling in Italy.

India’s parents are in Bali because some years ago they moved their clothing making business to Bali. This a very common story in the once thriving high end rag trade that used to employ many thousands of highly skilled artisans.

Lured by low labour costs, clothing manufacturers have been relocating overseas for many years. Gucci, Armani et al are still around of course, but now they make their clothes in places like China and Bali and then export them back to Italy charging prices that belie their country of manufacture.

As fate would have it, India, the daughter of wealthy clothing manufacturers comes from Puglia, my destination, where she lives in a "pile of rocks" in Alberobello.

Amazing what you find out when you strike up a conversation.