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<\/a>There are even more motorhomes here now, all clustered together in the huge parking area. Our neighbours have an 18 year old cat, which was roused from a deep slumber to be introduced to us.<\/p><\/div>\n
Lecce’s been here for over 1800 years. Like most of these incredibly old Italian cities, it seems to rise from nowhere as we drive in; I suspect there is no Italian word for ‘suburb’, although there must certainly be words for ‘urban sprawl’. Staid concrete sploshed with what seems a standardised set of pale pink, beige and green hues stands like the city’s latest set of walls, mid-rise blocks of flats replacing fields of olive trees and (so we’ve read but not seen)\u00a0tobacco. It’s off-putting, driving into this modern function-over-form living space. But once you’re in and are on foot, walking through the massive warm-stone triumphant archway into the city, roles are reversed; form stands tall over function, it’s all winding narrow streets and leaping cherubs, it’s beautiful.<\/p>\n
There are Roman remains here; an amphitheatre and theatre, but they’re pretty dire. The former’s little more than low standing stones and a few seats, most of it having been built over to make up the main square in town. The latter’s closed in by buildings and is, well, dull. The architecture’s all about the 17th century when some obviously fabulously rich Spanish occupiers took\u00a0advantage\u00a0of the\u00a0availability\u00a0of a soft local stone to get their churches and palaces seriously blinged-up, baroque-style. Ju’s taken advantage too but as we’re not quite as loaded, has restricted herself to a \u20ac7.50 stone lamp, a lovely little thing.<\/p>\n Baroque’s my thing so I’ve discovered on this trip. The\u00a0Chiesa di Santa Croce (Church of the Holy Cross) is the highlight here, plastered with surely-that’s-not-stone sculptures, although the entire town gives glimpses in a similar vein wherever you look. Even half-covered in scaffold, the work which took over a hundred years, is too much to take in, I find myself seeking out individual details to try and absorb the magnificence of the thing.<\/p>\n As we’ve walked around, the sun’s gradually broken through clouds and our layers of protective clothing have been removed. We’ve soaked it up, getting in some of the\u00a0quintessential\u00a0Italian activities in anticipation of leaving for Greece next week.\u00a0Restaurants\u00a0which look beyond our budget are far from it, offering menus rivalling even the famous Spanish menu del dia. For \u20ac14 each (including the cover charge and bread), we ate some sumptuous grub. Lecce’s a reputation for putting together gourmet food from cheap\u00a0ingredients,\u00a0 and stuffed full of secondo (second course) horse meat (go Ju go) and cuttlefish (chew Jay, chew) we washed it down with the included half litre of house red and a bottle of water. The only other chap in the\u00a0restaurant\u00a0played Tetris on his iPad as he ate, the surroundings and quality of food obviously the absolute norm to him.<\/p>\n With the evening came the reverence. Being Italy, the towns here seem to have as many churches as\u00a0English\u00a0towns have pubs. As night fell, we wandered into one of them to see the service playing out ahead of us, all latin, crosses and robes. The doors remained open and no-one seemed perturbed that we walked in, grabbed a couple of flash-less photos and left. Out in the street we topped up our energy levels with yet more thick sweet Italian ice cream (if you’ve never had it, it’s like Ben and Jerry’s, but somehow better) and joined the throng of the passeggiata in the streets.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n