My partner and I have a habit of traveling to places when no one else is around, which is often called “off-season” or “low season.” Sometimes we come to places where we happen to be the only people in the entire hotel. Last year, we traveled to Sardinia in November. COVID-19 was still surging, but it had not really touched Sardinia in any significant way. We stayed in some of the most beautiful hotels without a soul in sight. We swam in the ocean and yes, it was a bit cold, but we got some sun on our skin, and enjoyed the incredible bounty of seafood that is so delicious that time of year (shellfish). Right now, we are in Puglia – a very popular destination these days – but only in the summer. Puglia is the heel of Italy, where they grow a ton of olive oil and enjoy their cima di rapa and taralli. To Puglians, their high season is from May to September. After that, “chiuso.” Even though it may be 70 degrees outside, out come the puffy jackets and hats, and no more swimming in the crystal-clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. Anyone who does is “pazza.” What bliss it is to be in places that aren’t “shoulder to shoulder” with other American, British, and German tourists. Instead, we catch a glimpse of how Italians really live, breathing a sigh of relief when they can have their cities back to themselves.
Alone in Chioggia
We have always done this. Gone to the unpopular places in off-season. Vegas on Christmas. Ski towns in the spring. Namibia in December. It calms us. In fact, it delights us middle-aged folk who are in their autumn years. Of course, the weather is not totally ideal, and not everything is open and in its right place, but there is quietness, stillness, and abandonment that is calming and almost meditating. Here in Puglia, sometimes we have restaurants to ourselves. Where we are staying now, at a Masseria, which are 16th-century farmhouses typically found in the Puglia region, we have our own personal gourmet chef (and waiter) for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Who can beat that? There are no lines, no need to book much of anything, no obnoxious parties on boats, or loud blaring TVs in the hotel room next door. One may argue that this type of travel is like buying the winter coat during the spring sale, and there is some grain of truth in that, but everything is definitely cheaper. And, it is just, well, quiet.
And we still get to partake in the beautiful scenery of the cities, nature, and food. What more could you ask for? Speaking of food, Puglian food is quite good. See this mouth-watering visual post. They are all about olive oil, bread (so much bread), and seafood. They are also known for pasta shaped like ears, also known as orecchiette. They also have this bread that is very hard, called frisella that sailors brought with them across long seas journeys because they lasted a good long time. The photo shows this frisella cooked in tomatoes with spinach and burrata. Yum. They are also known for their zuppa di pesce. We had some, but it was not my favorite. We had lots of pesce crude (raw) and of course, vongole. They like their clams here. Maybe that is where I got my obsession with clams. You see, my family comes from Puglia, Foggia (a not-so-pretty but heavily industrial town in Northern Puglia - not the trendy Salento). Clams are in my genes.
All this to say, sometimes it is better to be in places that are not instagrammable, that don’t bring forth bragging rights. With almost every travel experience having become spoiled, overcrowded, and overphotographed, sometimes experiencing places in abandonment and in the quiet puts a new perspective on them and within yourself. It is in the quiet where I feel most alive.