The weekly market was in full swing in the Alberobello town square as we walked out to catch the bus to Monopoli, over on the coast. When we think of the markets in Europe, we are always thinking food; the stalls of fresh and bright looking fruits, olives, meats and cheeses.
But this is the “crap” market as I call it, the clothing and fabric vendors, purses and beads and ticky-tacky, trinkity things. It seems like a Saturday. Though it is Thursday, families are out shopping and the streets are full.
Is anyone working?
It was easy to pass on through.
Heading to Monopoli.
The cost is €2,80 for the 45 minute ride, three times a day on the Lentini bus.
Just meet on the side of the Via Cavour, heading north, 100 feet before the corner of Via Mazzini.
We were the only two on the bus, so we sat right up in the front seat and tried to talk with the driver. His eyes widened when he heard we were from California; our eyes popped when he said he has lived his whole life in a trullo. Since it was just us, he had a little extra time, so we turned off the main road heading straight to Monopoli and meandered a bit; a private sight-seeing tour, courtesy of the bus line.
There are two ways to go top-to-bottom on a dollar sign:
$
Follow the line, straight down, or follow the curved S down.
We took the S route.
So we looped back and forth, crazily passing all the signs pointing out Monopoli this way and Monopoli that way. He talked, pointed and explained as we careened down little country roads, brushing surprised drivers out of the way (in most countries the larger vehicle has right of way).
We came within sight of the ocean, cruising a couple hundred feet above the coastal flatlands before descending the face of the escarpment and rolling straight into Monopoli.
He let us out on a street, halfway; "...stazione il treno a destra, centro sinestra..."
So we turned left into the citta centro, Gail pulling her little suitcase and me with my pack, looking for the magic of Monopoli.
Narrow streets, maze-like, white houses with colored shutters and balconies, using the churches as landmarks.
Turning here and there, we found a cool little place for a lunch break. The sign outside said, in Italian, wine, oil, cheeses, and meat, the regionale du Puglia. A little bistro table out front, we stashed our luggage up by the building and enjoyed a simple feast.
It was interesting, watching the garbage collectors make their way down the street, walking into every shop and cafe to pick up the daily plastic bag of trash. They stop and exchange greetings or swap news with every single person on the route. It looks like a great job, and you would probably be the best informed person in town.
We found our way down by the beach, where the city walls and old castle met the water, then we turned back in again and by the luck of the Blessed Pepper, unwound our way back out of the maze.
We headed back to the train station, through streets lined with blocky, yet interesting apartment buildings.
Monopoli is crowded, yet clean, a pleasant place to spend a few hours, or perhaps a day.