Tuesday Trulli Morning

 The choice of where to plant myself for a writing session this morning came easily despite the numerous options that I have here at "Casa tra il trulli". So, this morning, I chose to sit in my own little trullo, with the door opening onto a view of the countryside and the sounds of a farm beings heralding the arrival of a Puglian Spring morning. In all my life, I've never sat in a more wonderful place.

We arrived at Casa tra il trulli Monday  afternoon (it wasn't easy to find), escorted by Domenica, "Mimma", our young, vibrant and enthusiastic Airbnb owner.  Naturally, at the very last leg of our journey, we got lost (again). We're in a remote area and the GPS didn't take too well to our environs. Fortunately, WhatsApp was working and Mimma was able to find us and we followed her from our rendezvous point. Technology is a wonderful thing. Were we back in the Mapquest days, we'd still be by the side of the road!

I'd say we have hit another home run with our selection of this place. It's in hills, close to the town of Martina Franca. We're in a residential area.  All the residents have acres and acres surrounding beautiful typical homes. The serenity is stunning. Nature is at its best here. Most of the home sites include at least one trullo if not several trulli. Our host, who lives in a house on this property with her family and of course, her parents, owns an ancient trullo which was the former residence of her grandparents and dates back to 1870. In a future blog, with photos, I will describe the trullo with photos. But for now,  I just want to sit here and take it all in, listen to the birds, the chickens, horses and little dogs.

My personal trullo is accessed through our cucina. A short, narrow path leads right up to a set of narrow french doors. Inside, thick white plastered walls (all original mind you) form a tiny "hut",  a conical shaped room, carpeted with an asian rug. A small loveseat , a shabby chic chest and an antique table upon which rests books, candles and a framed history of trulli. A little antique suitcase on the floor holds a straw hat and a bouquet of dried flowers. There's room for a maximum two. Joe knew where to find me when he got up and he's grabbing his coffee for a well-deserved trullo moment. 

More, much more later........it's trullo time and the sun is shining in the tiny door. 

The only stress I own at the moment comes from the fact that I have problems transferring my photos from my phone to my MacBook Air and until I figure it out.......