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and suddenly the stone comes out everywhere and arrogantly takes shape, draws and builds promontories and hills, dips into karstic caves, antrum of sirens sacred to pilgrims walking slowly, forms dolmens and drywalls, farms, manor-houses and cathedrals. From the Gargano, harsh and wrinkled, standing proudly on the reefs abruptly challenging the huge extend of the sea, of the blue, of the green envy of the painter’s palette, disarms and quiets upon the Tavoliere, land of shining corn and blinding sun, bounds on the big stairs of the wavy Murgia and traces the perimeter of the sheepfolds, goes mildly down until it paves the halls of the clamorous houses and the atriums of the gentry and opens the harbors of the Adriatic Sea towards the Near East.

PUGLIA SWEET LAND IN THE CONFUSED EYES OF THE EXCITED TRAVELER

Land of joy, sounds, feasts, fires over the sea and up in the sky, exuberant hospitality blessing auspicious fortunes, joy and prodigality, enchantment of the sailors.
Quiet and silence in the freshness of the charming lodges, corresponded love waiting for your return.