If you wander Ostuni’s ancient part of town for long enough, you’re sure to emerge onto the awesome vista it offers to the northeast. On flat land far below, a wide, unbroken expanse of olive trees stretches to the sea. These aren’t the tame and delicate olive trees you’ve come to expect from, say, central Italy. Puglian olive trees are different. Monstrous, shaggy things with fat, twisting trunks that make each tree look like it’s been caught in a private tornado. They live for centuries, and provide exceptionally high-quality olive oil. To add to the strangeness of the scene, all the trees below Ostuni have been cropped into a cuboid shape. So the view is of thousands of leafy cubes, tumbling towards the blue Adriatic.
Having marvelled at Ostuni’s oldest part and its vista, you’ll probably want to roam the newer streets too. You’ll find them straighter than the wriggling ancient lanes, but surprisingly similar in feel and architecture. Having established a local style, Ostuni seems reluctant to let it go. The whitewashed, vaguely Cycladic homes of the newer streets huddle close together and jumble round each other. There are cars, and a few people strolling the pavement, but other than this there’s little difference from the very oldest part of town.
Whatever route you pursue, you always seem to end up back in Piazza della Libertà. This wide, triangular space is surely the heart of Ostuni, poised just between its oldest and newer parts. If evening is coming down after your day’s wanderings, you’re sure to sense an air of excitement radiating outward from the piazza, as the whole town gears up for several hours of passeggiata. Take your pick from Ostuni’s remarkably good restaurants, then join the well-dressed throng on the pavements…
Many hours later, if you happen to leave Ostuni the way you came, you’ll see that the ‘white city’ is now just a blaze of orange light set on high in the darkness, like a vast lone beacon in the night. It very, very slowly grows smaller into the distance. Even as you leave it behind, Ostuni looks just as mysterious and enchanted a place as it did when you first laid eyes on it.
[nggallery id=86]
Some cute reason to choose Ostuni as a destination Wedding…
Recently Cheryl and Dominic got married in one of the most amazing spot in Italy: Ostuni.
Here below some guide line to introduce you the enchanting “White city”…
If you wander Ostuni’s ancient part of town for long enough, you’re sure to emerge onto the awesome vista it offers to the northeast. On flat land far below, a wide, unbroken expanse of olive trees stretches to the sea. These aren’t the tame and delicate olive trees you’ve come to expect from, say, central Italy. Puglian olive trees are different. Monstrous, shaggy things with fat, twisting trunks that make each tree look like it’s been caught in a private tornado. They live for centuries, and provide exceptionally high-quality olive oil. To add to the strangeness of the scene, all the trees below Ostuni have been cropped into a cuboid shape. So the view is of thousands of leafy cubes, tumbling towards the blue Adriatic.
Having marvelled at Ostuni’s oldest part and its vista, you’ll probably want to roam the newer streets too. You’ll find them straighter than the wriggling ancient lanes, but surprisingly similar in feel and architecture. Having established a local style, Ostuni seems reluctant to let it go. The whitewashed, vaguely Cycladic homes of the newer streets huddle close together and jumble round each other. There are cars, and a few people strolling the pavement, but other than this there’s little difference from the very oldest part of town.
Whatever route you pursue, you always seem to end up back in Piazza della Libertà. This wide, triangular space is surely the heart of Ostuni, poised just between its oldest and newer parts. If evening is coming down after your day’s wanderings, you’re sure to sense an air of excitement radiating outward from the piazza, as the whole town gears up for several hours of passeggiata. Take your pick from Ostuni’s remarkably good restaurants, then join the well-dressed throng on the pavements…
Many hours later, if you happen to leave Ostuni the way you came, you’ll see that the ‘white city’ is now just a blaze of orange light set on high in the darkness, like a vast lone beacon in the night. It very, very slowly grows smaller into the distance. Even as you leave it behind, Ostuni looks just as mysterious and enchanted a place as it did when you first laid eyes on it.
[nggallery id=86]
If you wander Ostuni’s ancient part of town for long enough, you’re sure to emerge onto the awesome vista it offers to the northeast. On flat land far below, a wide, unbroken expanse of olive trees stretches to the sea. These aren’t the tame and delicate olive trees you’ve come to expect from, say, central Italy. Puglian olive trees are different. Monstrous, shaggy things with fat, twisting trunks that make each tree look like it’s been caught in a private tornado. They live for centuries, and provide exceptionally high-quality olive oil. To add to the strangeness of the scene, all the trees below Ostuni have been cropped into a cuboid shape. So the view is of thousands of leafy cubes, tumbling towards the blue Adriatic.
Having marvelled at Ostuni’s oldest part and its vista, you’ll probably want to roam the newer streets too. You’ll find them straighter than the wriggling ancient lanes, but surprisingly similar in feel and architecture. Having established a local style, Ostuni seems reluctant to let it go. The whitewashed, vaguely Cycladic homes of the newer streets huddle close together and jumble round each other. There are cars, and a few people strolling the pavement, but other than this there’s little difference from the very oldest part of town.
Whatever route you pursue, you always seem to end up back in Piazza della Libertà. This wide, triangular space is surely the heart of Ostuni, poised just between its oldest and newer parts. If evening is coming down after your day’s wanderings, you’re sure to sense an air of excitement radiating outward from the piazza, as the whole town gears up for several hours of passeggiata. Take your pick from Ostuni’s remarkably good restaurants, then join the well-dressed throng on the pavements…
Many hours later, if you happen to leave Ostuni the way you came, you’ll see that the ‘white city’ is now just a blaze of orange light set on high in the darkness, like a vast lone beacon in the night. It very, very slowly grows smaller into the distance. Even as you leave it behind, Ostuni looks just as mysterious and enchanted a place as it did when you first laid eyes on it.
[nggallery id=86]
