Trulli scrumptious Puglia

By Lydia Slater 05.05.09

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The beach stretched before us, silvery sand feathered with tufts of waving grass. The sun shone, skylarks caroused in the blue sky above a meadow thickly carpeted with purple and gold flowers. The whole idyllic scene could have come straight from the pages of a Famous Five epic. So naturally, we behaved as the Famous Five would have done and stripped to our undies to plunge into the twinkling sea.

As we cavorted, the Italian mammas shook their heads in disapproval, zipping their own children more tightly into padded anoraks and pulling warm hats further on to reluctant heads. I even saw one unfortunate child wandering the beach in woolly gloves. For the inhabitants of Puglia, it was clearly still the middle of winter. Still, they couldn't blame us for getting overexcited. It wasn't just raining torrentially in London, it was actually snowing at the other end of Italy. So honour demanded a maritime swim, with ice creams to follow, if only for the pleasure of boasting about it all afterwards.

It isn't just the weather that makes you feel as though Puglia is an entirely separate country from the rest of the mainland. Down here in the heel of Italy's boot, everything is different. The food, for one thing: don't look for trattoria staples such as Parma ham and melon. The Pugliese prefer Greek-style meze, consume bucket-loads of burrata, a divine velvety concoction of mozzarella and cream, and eat their oysters with slices of hard cheese, which is an acquired taste.

Then there's the architecture, which encompasses everything from trulli - small white stone huts with pointy roofs that look like giant garlic heads - to the lunatic opulence of Lecce's Baroque churches. This disorientating difference is undoubtedly a result of Puglia's turbulent history. Over the centuries, Greeks, Turks, Romans, Saracens, Normans and the Spanish have all laid claim to parts of it, and each culture has left a legacy. These days, the middleclass English are the invaders - it's the new Tuscany for the cognoscenti - though the British influence seems so far to be confined to dual-language menus.

The entrance to Masseria Il Trappeto, the converted olive mill where we were staying, was unpromising: straight off the main road, opposite a discount supermarket. But after we'd bumped 100m down the track (at some cost to the hire car's suspension), we found ourselves transported to a landscape that hadn't changed for centuries.

Lanes edged with dry stone walls and thick with purple orchids crisscrossed each other past olive groves where the trees, some nudging 1,000 years old, bent arthritically, heavy with fruit. The mill itself is a comparatively youthful 300, and, in its elegant, fort-like simplicity, looks as though a trendy architect has just supervised the finishing touches.

My bedroom had a curved roof made of white stone, a power shower in what looked like a cave next door, and a fabulous view one way to the medieval city of Ostuni, the famous Citta Bianca, the other over the Adriatic Sea.

The natural glamour of the villa's position was enhanced by all the necessaries for family holiday happiness, including a heated swimming pool (left), outdoor barbecue, Wi-Fi, DVD player and tons of books, board games and jigsaws. My husband, who was feeling rather stressed, collapsed with his book on a sunlounger, from which he only moved for meals. The rest of us set out each morning to explore the delights of Puglia out of season.

Ostuni, just a kilometre up the road, is a bustling town with lots of restaurants and a vibrant weekly market selling mainly cheap shoes and eccentric-looking vegetables that we struggled to identify. But a few steps up the steep hill to the centro storico and we were transported suddenly to what felt like a Greek hill town. The limewashed houses huddled next to each other, linked by strings of washing lines. Old women, clad in black, whitewashed their already gleaming steps, and the only noises were the ringing of the cathedral bells and the screams of swifts.

Following the sound of the bells, we emerged into the absurdly picturesque cathedral square. It was entirely empty but for a couple of small children playing tag, and a strategically sited café. Happily, we plonked ourselves down to sip white wine, eat the hot quiches that came unasked, and admire the cathedral's curving façade and naively ornate rose window.

If Ostuni feels like Greece, a trip to Lecce, the capital of the Salentine peninsula, will sweep you off to Spain, thanks to the Hapsburgs, who ruled here in the 16th and 17th centuries. We stood literally openmouthed in front of the Baroque extravaganza of Santa Croce, squinting in the sun as we tried to identify the figures that crawl over its surface (everything from floral garlands to dragons), wandered round the Roman amphitheatre in the Piazza Sant'Oronzo, and marvelled at the Piazza del Duomo, dominated by its vertiginous 70m tower. Finally, exhausted by culture, we collapsed into a restaurant (we had to make them open up their sun terrace as all the Italian diners were huddled inside) and feasted on pasta with endive, raw squid and almond ice cream.

Our feelings of pleasant disorientation reached a climax on the last day. On our way to Brindisi airport, we took a detour off the motorway to the Torre Guaceto nature reserve and found ourselves not only in a different country - the English south coast this time - but back in the Fifties into the bargain.

After an idyllic, if chilly, dip, we made our way to a scruffy hut where we'd been advised you could have a damn fine lunch. A simple order for antipasti kept waiters shuttling to our table with little plates of squid, octopus, oysters, mussels, tuna, sardines, prawns and huge bowls of spiky sea urchins. At this point, I gave up trying to pin-point exactly where Puglia reminded me of, and simply resolved to return as soon as I possibly could.

NEED TO KNOW: MASSERIA IL TRAPPETO, OSTUNI

A 17th-century olive mill, surrounded by ancient olive groves where the British owners still produce their own oil. It's been carefully restored to preserve its antique charm while offering all the mod cons you'd expect, and has gorgeous views from the sun terrace. The perfect place to come for a week with a gang of friends, especially as it's only a 45-minute drive from Brindisi airport.
BEDROOMS The house has seven bedrooms, of which six have air-conditioning, and comfortably sleeps 12 people. The stone-floored rooms are elegantly simple and individually decorated with antique furniture and pretty textiles.
BATHROOMS There are five, all stone-floored and spare, with lovely power showers and modern fittings. Lots of white towels are provided, plus stripey ones for use by the pool.
KITCHEN Huge, cool and well-equipped, with a magnificent steel oven, giant fridge-freezer and large stone table for eating at on chilly nights. There's also an open fire.
SITTING ROOM This enormous (60 sq m) vaulted room became our favourite place to hang out in the midday sun, doing jigsaws, watching DVDs or reading on the comfy sofas. In one alcove is an elegant refectory table with candelabra; there's also a cosy snug with sofas and chairs opposite a working fireplace.
OUTSIDE A large, heated pool is surrounded by sun-loungers and linen parasols; there's a hammock, too, plus lots of inflatable toys for children. There's also a shaded sitting room to fall asleep in after a lunch cooked on the stone barbecue. The outdoor table is shaded permanently by a venerable olive tree. Step over the low terrace wall and you're in the lush olive groves, thick with wild flowers when we stayed, and a gorgeous place for a walk.
COST From £1,450 per week. To book, phone 07812 993676, e-mail josephinepembroke@btinternet.com, or check out olivemill.co.uk.

OUT AND ABOUT IN PUGLIA

GETTING THERE Ryanair flies from Stansted to Brindisi or Bari; British Airways from Heathrow to Bari.
WHERE TO STAY In Ostuni, La Sommita is the most stylish (and expensive) place to stay - a minimalist haven with a luxury spa in a 16th-century palazzo behind the cathedral (lasommita.it). B&B in a rural location is available at Il Frantoio (masserialilfrantoio.it), from €88 a night. Alternatively, look at the Agriturismo website (en.agriturismo.it) for farmhouse stays to suit all budgets: you can go simple or very glamorous, with pools, organic cuisine and horseriding.
WHERE TO EAT If you're visiting the Torre Guaceto nature reserve, head for the Ristorante Miramare da Michele, by the Torre Santa Sabina in Carovigno (00 39 338 243 0001), and order the antipasti. In Lecce, we liked the Trattoria San Carlino, via Libertini, 22 (00 39 0 832 331 856). In Ostuni, the Osteria del Tempo Perso is expensive but recommended: via G Tanzarella Vitale, 47 (00 39 0 831 303 320; osteriadeltempoperso.com).
WHAT TO DO Hire a car (a must). Alberobello is the place to go for trulli, the strange little pointed huts that have been snapped up and converted into holiday homes. Lecce is stunning, and Matera, a World Heritage Site, is spectacular, with its 'sassi' - houses built into sheer rock.
CELEB SPOTTING Helen Mirren, Francis Ford Coppola, Mickey Rourke, Suggs and Mick Hucknall all have holiday homes in the area.