Ostuni, My Beloved Hometown in Southern Italy
Information on Ostuni and the Puglia area can be found on their provincial website:
http://www.emmeti.it/
I remember looking at that photo and the singular determination came to me, I was going to live there. I fell in love with the place, just looking at that picture. Over the next few months, many people tried to talk us out of it…a villa would be prone to theft, it was too far off, no Americans lived there – yadda yadda yadda!
Well, if anything, I’m a stubborn sort & when we arrived, I refused to even consider anything outside Ostuni. I refused to even look at other villas or apartments in nearby villages and towns. As luck would have it, there was a single villa listed and the one we looked at was what we ended up with. It lay atop a hill, at the end of this small neighborhood to the right side of highway SS16 as you were heading into town, before the curve to the left. The address was listed as Contrada Santo Magno and it looked to the Villa Speccia in front, and off over many acres of fields and hills toward Carovigno to the back. It was a beautiful whitewashed stucco, 3 bedrooms, the obligatory rooftop patio and a large patio on the ground floor. The gardens were gorgeous and the fields were to be worked by the landlord’s laborers. He assured us we were welcome to any fruit or vegetables we wanted to pick ourselves.
Ostuni was a unique city and had a large influence of early Greek settlers. I never did tire of climbing into the old part of town, walking along the marble stoned narrow streets where few cars dared to venture. There were several piazzas, hidden among the many turns in and around the town. The “new” monument at the new piazza was hundreds of years old.
There were four bakeries that I knew of, but my favorite was introduced to us by our neighbor, Mario. It was very rustic & had the very best foccacci (the Italian thick crust pizza) and rosetti (bread rolls) I ever found. The thing was, you had to get there early or they’d be sold out. I loved the ones with artichoke & often we’d take the whole sheet. They weren’t as big as the sheets of foccacci you’d get from Boomerangs, the now-defunct restuarant in Brindisi which was favored by most of the GI’s, but it was good for a couple meals, at least!
Speaking of the neighbor Mario, he was an old farmer who’d been injured in some sort of industrial accident. He spent summers on the old family farm and the way we understood it, at one time had owned most of the land in the neighborhood. He “adopted” us right off, and introduced us around, and we became fairly close to his family: Marie the wife, Fiorella the eldest daughter, Angelo the middle child, and Gigilia the youngest. They were as rural Italian as they could be; however, we eventually learned they had an apartment in town and a beach house down in Villanova. They were like most of the neighbors you all had…very friendly, open and generous. I still have this bowl he used to bring olives and other things for us to sample. I remember the orriechetti (home made Italian pasta, literally translated as “little ears” because of the ear-lobe like shape) that they’d bring, all hand made on these lovely plates. And they always included us for holiday meals. Mario’s family slowly taught us some “Ostunese” (the local dialect of Italian) and by the time winter set in, we could get by.
There was a fairly modern & nice hotel, just off the main road on the left as you got into town called “Tre Torri.” But we enjoyed the more rustic restaurants of the area. One place we found near where the market was held had pizza…back then you could get a dozen of them for $10. It didn’t hardly pay to cook dinner at home. We loved the “Quattro Stagioni” best, but tried all sorts of different ones…they were the ones with the thin white crust. Quattro Stagioni translates to “Four Seasons” with one quarter of the pizza allocated to each – artichokes, black olives, ham, and mushrooms.
The exchange rate for Italian lire was pretty favorable to Americans when we arrived…our 3 bedroom, 2 bath and partially furnished villa cost us a whopping $156! It was very economical, and we lived like kings on a lieutenant’s salary. There was a supermercado where we bought groceries. I would stock up on some canned goods on base, but the shortages at the commissary never affected us like they did other people. WE never were big dairy users…the little milk we used was fine to get off base and the cheese we found at market (our big dairy LOVE) was better than the packaged stuff. I didn’t see a huge problem with the prices, but like I said, I bought the canned stuff and some meats on base (usually). But that supermercado was nice for picking up whatever you needed. The only thing was, like most Italian lines, you had to push and shove. Warren came home one night complaining a nun had cut him off in the parking lot. A NUN!!
I remember how we used to play cards with one of the sergeants on my flight at work, Bo and his wife Charl Motes, who arrived & departed with us and lived across SS16 in a sister neighborhood less than a mile away. Bo and I occasionally would share rides to/from work. About the only negative thing I remember was running short on gas coupons. When another young lieutenant and his wife (John and Patty Biondolillo) came to the unit, they also moved out to Ostuni…they lived near Bo at first, but then found a really exquisite apartment in town. I remember being there one morning and hearing a funeral procession. We all went out on the balcony and watched them go by with the music and slow march. Their apartment was originally constructed by a rich Italian businessman for his daughter… unfortunately, she wanted to live elsewhere during the first years of her marriage. It was a lovely place for the Biondolillos. We all had great landlords in Ostuni!
John, Patti, Warren and I used to love to share evenings in town. There was one bar in particular, it was off one of the piazzas. In winter, it was cozy and interesting – in the warmer weather, we’d sit out on the patio which sat above the nearby street and watch the world go by. Ostuni was very traditional & you could set your watch by the men gathering at the big piazza walking and talking in their black suits and drinking espresso. I imagine their wives were busy at home, cooking dinner. Mario took Warren along to one of the mens’ hidden hangouts. In the morning they served cold fish and cold coffee for hardly more than pocket change. It didn’t do much for Warren’s appetite, but was an interesting experience. The place was packed every day.
Another story Warren often recounts was when we entered this little tiny grocery store we found tucked somewhere in town. As we entered, the guy turned on the breakers and powered up the small calculator and a single light bulb. As soon as we left the little store, everything was turned off again! This reminds me of the ENEL (Italy’s electric company) procedure each month or two. We would go down to the office to pay the bills and it was always a crowded mess. On day I got a little agitated and was almost in tears, as everyone had cut in front of me and some man came all the way from around the back, guided me to a desk and had me pay separately. After that, the old gentleman would always look for me and serve me first. Warren said it had to do with my chest size.
About mid-way through our tour though, they changed things and we could pay our rent AND ENEL bills right at the post office. Our landlord lived in Brindisi and it was more convenient to post the rental check. Warren established a rhapport with one of the postal workers by getting him an address back in the USA for an ultralite personal aircraft company in Oshkosh Wisconsin. Warren gave him an American quarter for the required return postage. After that, the guy would close his line at the post office when he saw Warren, beckoning him over to a separate, newly opened window so he could pay for his two money orders first.
They finished a main road from our end of Ostuni directly down to SS-379, the beach highway road, shortly after our mid-tour point. It was a great road, with beautiful views of the old city. It also led down to our favorite beach, where a Roman watchtower sat and you could dive directly off the coral into the clear water. It was relatively hidden, clean, and never crowded. The water was crystal clear and you could see some of the local fish and even an octopus in the waters.
My mother-in-law visited that first spring, and she never got over the lovely old olive groves in the area of our villa and all around Ostuni. I think they had some of the oldest ones in the entire area. It was amazing to see their huge roots and trunks. They were trimmed quite drastically and we usually had enough firewood from just the pruning of the olive trees. Our neighbor came over to show us how to stack wood, we didn’t do it right the first time and she said a serpent (which brings bad luck) would move into the wood if we weren’t careful.
In town there was a tire store and a mechanic that we used with our second car. For some reason they ended up thinking that Warren had been an Olympic Wrestler. They always treated him like some sort of celebrity and we always got a fair shake on tires and repairs. On the opposite side of town from us, toward Fasano, there actually WAS an Olympic Boxer from years ago, he had one of the bigger villas you could see from the road that circled the old city.
There was an older road, surrounding Ostuni, one that skirted the perimeter of the old city, partially walled, and you could get some fantastic views of the old city. I shot some neat photos of the old ladies up in the old part of town, all of them were so short in stature. They were always sweeping the streets in their black dresses. It was like going back in time. Warren took one of the photos and did a painting for me during our tour.
The first spring of our first tour, my duty sergeant and section chief, Cheryl Brown, started dating one of our analysts, Sam Pitti. Cheryl told me about their first date, on Valentine’s Day. They went up into the old part of Ostuni & found this unique restaurant, “Lo Spessite.” Cheryl and Sam eventually married and (like us) returned to San Vito for a second tour. After such rave reviews, Warren & I tried the restaurant – we just loved it. There were 8-9 courses of food, all served on these unique little plates: antipasti first, dishes of various vegetables, a baked fava bean dish, orriechetti with both rape’ and pomodoro sauce in separate plates, a rolled meat dish, and the end was a huge bowl of in-season fruit, followed by a huge cookie platter, and the topper was some sort of plum brandy…a “digestivo.” While you ate, they served all the mineral water and red and white wine you could drink in beautiful ceramic jugs. Cocktails and soft drinks were also available. There were little artifacts in little alcoves along the walls, and also illuminated under big glass tiles in the floor. My mother-in-law always sympathized with whoever was washing all those dishes served with each course. The dishes themselves were thick and rustic, and of a design typical to the area residents. It was the most picturesque and quaint restaurant I’ve ever known.
When we first got there, the entire meal was only 19 or 20 mille, or about $10; however, I think it crept up to 29 mille or so over the years. These days, I hear the rate is about 30 euro…but remember, it’s all-inclusive, and if you enjoy wine like I do, you’re saving money with that rate! You can’t go wrong with the atmosphere and the price. The restaurant is located about two thirds of the way up to the top of the old city, with hand-made street signs pointing the way through all the turns in the old part of town. Local Italians thought we were crazy, because this sort of menu wasn’t special for them, it was what they always had at Gramma’s. After dinner, we would always climb down to the espresso bar at the base of the old city and enjoy a cappuccino or espresso. Lo Spessite never failed to impress our guests.
Photos and information on the restaurant Lo Spessite can be found on their website: http://www.spessite.it/
Pictures of Ostuni and the area can be found on the town’s website: http://ostuni.videopagineutili.it/brwsappl.php?id=66
The piazza at the bottom of the old city also contained many old fashioned shops where we would putter around and also a travel office. We would take 10 mille (only about $5 back then) and go shopping and ended up with quite a few nice ceramic pieces. They started a contest for a city symbol each year, and the little ceramic pieces were also whistles. My favorite was the 1986 owl, I had two of those.
There was also a nice fancy bakery and ice cream shop with a coffee bar and sitting area, on the road into the old part of town, where you could use the phones for international calls. This was on the road into the piazza around the perimeter of town…from SS16. This is where we would call back the the old folks at home once a month. Nicer place to wait for the connection than on base. In the 3 years we lived in Ostuni, we never did have a phone, and to be honest, I enjoyed it! There was a lot more peace and quiet without a phone ringing to interrupt you during the day or night.
My final favorite memory of Ostuni, other than the market, was the Sociale Communale shop, where all the farmers brought their grapes and olives. Mario brought us there early on, and I was amazed at the quantity of wine, olive oil and other groceries you could pick up for a great price. I like the white wines best, but often tried the rosato and rosso. You could get 5 liters of wine for about $3, and $4 bought you 10 liters of wine…but you could get some money back if you returned the green glass jug. I don’t think we ever did return one of those big 10L glass jugs for the deposit money…we saved them as souvenirs. I wish I could visit there again, I pay so much for olive oil and wine these days! I am lucky to get a three quarters of a liter for what I used to pay for the entire ten!
Many of the people who were stationed at the now-closed San Vito Air Station couldn’t wait until their time came to move on base. For us, we loved living in that Italian community. The people were very friendly, and we enjoyed living away from work and the other Americans. I think it helped us get to know the language and culture better. We often shopped at the local open-air markets on Saturdays, where the fruit and vegetables were so fresh and full of flavor. The summers were hot, but we always enjoyed a breeze in our villa up on the hill, and could drive down the road to the beach to cool off. When our little Italian dog started getting fat, we found out that the neighbor lady next door was baking him cookies! Several of the Italians in our neighborhood wanted us to leave the dog behind, but we took him back home and he lived to the ripe old age of 14.
Our time to leave came in late 1988, and we were sorry to leave our Italian villa and neighbors behind. The quality of life for a young officer was much higher than we could have afforded in most places, and we enjoyed the unique area and culture of the Puglia region in general, and Ostuni in particular. Whatever I do with the rest of my life, the first place I want to revisit is Ostuni.
