Day 29 Polignano
We had a lovely breakfast in our accommodation. Muesli with
LOTS of strawberries, toast with cherry jam and coffee was just right. Then we
set off for the old town.
The old town was buzzing. The Saturday holiday and a very
welcoming sun had brought people out early. We loved walking those labyrinthine
streets where it’s a complete guess where you will emerge. We took in some of
the vantage spots that let us see deep into the gorge and across the beach to
the bridge.
We walked to the gorge bridge, but took the stairs through the houses down to the stone beach at sea level. The beach was packed. We sat there for a while, taking in the atmosphere and baking in the sun. Enterprising hawkers were moving through the crowd selling cold Aperol and beer.
We worked our way back to the piazza where the church was
and wandered over to see what the white stands in front of the church were. There
were bowls of petals and cornets full of rice. We assumed there was going to be
a wedding and sure enough, a very smartly dressed military man, decked out in
medals and with a dress sword turned up. Of course we lingered, hoping to catch
sight of the bride walking to the church. There was no way that a car could
deliver her up there. Guests arrived. Old guys in smart suits lingered out the
front…but no bride showed up. We took a walk around the streets and returned
about 20 minutes later, passing a family dressed as if they were church bound.
The little guy was immaculately dressed with blazer and button hole. His red
faced dad did stop mid crowd to snap a photo of his son before he melted in the
heat. More sworded and uniformed military men had gathered and the party of
guests had swelled. Still no bride. We wandered off again finding a place to
get a cooling ginger beer and swung by the church again. Yes, here she came on her
father’s arm, beaming. The service must have taken nearly and hour. I managed
to sneak into the church and the fancy little guy was not only a page boy, he
was delivering part of the service. By this time we had gone off to see the
sights. Just as we were making our way back across the piazza to find a place
for lunch, there was a huge cheer. The happy couple were emerging under the
crossed swords of the military men. Rice filled the air. Everyone in the piazza
joined in, crowding the church to catch the sight and snap a photo. It was such
a lovely sight.
We walked through the hubbub of leaving guests to the shops
near the bridge to get one of the huge seafood filled rolls that the city is
known for. We took this and a couple of lemon drinks back to the seafront and
had a lovely lunch overlooking the Adriatic ocean. All this happy mood was
topped off by the phone pinging with the news that the Liberals had been decimated
and that Dutton had lost his seat.
A short rest and we were off again. Johnny had booked an afternoon boat trip that took us along the coast and to the grottos. We drove out to the new marina, a short way out of the city. The cruise company had a flotilla of boats so even though there were lots of us there, there was no trouble getting a berth. We were skippered by Diego. We set out with a young couple, a woman travelling alone and a group of five young Dutch women.
We hugged the coast for a while, carting into several caves dug out of the rock by the sea, and then took a turn further out, to the hermit island and into some far flung grottos. Each group of passengers had its own vibe. We passed a boat full of young people who looked like they had hit the prosecco early. they were waving their arms and singing Volare as if their hearts were in the lyrics. They were also the boat that decided to jump into the waters of the bay when the opportunity arose.
Our cruise lasted just under two hours and ended with a glass of sparkling rose as the afternoon sun bathed the cliffs with a golden light.
Dinner was at a nearby restaurant recommended by Marianna again. It was a seafood restaurant but we bucked the trend. I had steak and Johnny had ravioli. We finished off with rum baba and some cream filled cakes that were a local speciality. The night was still young, so we took a turn along what could only be called Polignano food street. Everybody and their dog (literally) was down there and the festive atmosphere was only made more so by the tuk-tuks that buzzed the streets with disco lights blazing both inside and outside. While the Italians were just heading out for a night of revelry, we headed home for a well earned rest.
