gustipugliesiuk

There are stories you don't choose to write. They choose you. Mine began about eleven years ago, when I left everything behind and moved to New York. Three years. Three years in which I learned what it really means to be alone in a foreign city — not the romantic kind of alone you see in films, with the steaming coffee and the skyline view. The real kind. The one where you figure out who you are when nobody around you already knows. Everything started from that experience. 7 Times Me — when...

The south of Puglia, a man with a fear of heights, and the best €5 Spritz. After our first few days in Molfetta — split between family lunches that stretched well into the afternoon, long evenings with old friends and the very specific joy of speaking Italian at full volume without having to translate yourself — I decided it was time to show Matt a little more of the south. And before I move on, I want to pause on that feeling for a second. Because it's something I don't think you can fully...

Back to Molfetta, where family, food and the Adriatic were waiting. After our two days in Rome, it was time to continue our journey. Southbound. Destination Puglia. Destination Molfetta. We left Roma Termini on a Frecciabianca train and I have to admit that Italy's rail network has improved enormously over the years. The trains are clean, comfortable, fast and surprisingly affordable. The journey from Rome to Molfetta takes around four and a half hours, usually with a change shortly before...