It has been almost 8 months since I landed in this romantic, food-obsessed country of Italy. Looking back now, I have changed so drastically from the beginning of this journey. I have travelled a lot and encountered many unexpected matters, both through travelling and simply living. I took a huge step out of my comfort zone, not just once but twice, and both times were great learning outcomes experiences.


First I stepped out of my creative bubble and decided to do something I have always wanted to and passionate about, yet too scared to actually make it happen. I decided to make a documentary about Couchsurfing, a platform that transformed the way I travel and perceive the places I visit, and allowed me to discover more places and cultures than I could ever have without it. The result was a 10-minute documentary full of food and smiley people, and beautiful blue sea, but more important than the documentary was the the overall experience of the trip itself, the traditions (and recipes) I learned and the people I met and became friends with. Even after I visited Sardegna, Calabria, and Sicilia, Puglia was still by far at the top of my travel experience. I have to admit that it was quite frustrating afterwards because nothing seemed to reach the point of my beautiful journey to Puglia.

Then, just after a couple of weeks I got back from Puglia, I took the second step. This time, it was something personal which led to self-discovery…well, it’s not as fancy as it sounds, I just opened myself up for a relationship for the first time in a very long time.

Having been travelling, moving from places to places (and living in England), I tried to avoid getting too attached to anyone. I loved my independency too much and even though sometimes I would feel quite lonely, I wasn’t quite ready to give up my freedom for a relationship.

I mean, I thought relationship was just relationship, how much can I learn from being in a relationship than travelling and meeting interesting cultures?

For that, I was wrong. Being in a relationship taught me much more than I could ever imagine. Not just about being with another person, but also about myself and all the issues that are buried deep inside me, something I didn’t even notice it was there. By allowing someone to be so close to me, I opened up myself bare and he saw it right through me.

On top of that, I also found my best friend in Bologna.

It’s been almost 5 months since we first got together, and so my experience in Bologna has been highly influenced by his presence, since we spent more time together than not. I have travelled less and been through more states of confusion and frustrations, and I have cried more than ever. He helped me grow in a way no one else could ever have, and I thank him for that.

So yes, my time in Italy as an Erasmus student ends today. I’m boarded on my delayed flight back to the wet and cold England like a new person, with a significant increase of my Italian-ness level and understanding of this beautiful-mess people, culture and country. All these not-for-sell experiences will stay with me forever, in the way I am, the way I live, and the way I view the world.

It’s is the beginning of a different version of me.

This, is what I find beautiful.

Before leaving Bologna, we went to Decathlon together and one of the main purpose of going there was to buy a tent. So after a week of staying in Calabria, we left for our first camping trip, all the way up to Scalea, near Basilicata, the neighbouring region.

Why there? Because it was close to a place in the mountain called Orsomarso where we wanted to go rafting, and I saw a photo of Arcomagno on Instagram which looked very beautiful.

After 3 trains lasting over 4 hours or so, and a bus ride, we arrived in San Nicola Arcella, where we had to walk up and down the rock, in the afternoon heat, to this Arcomagno beach. It was hot, and the back was heavy, especially my beloved pink backpack Antonio was carrying which had like 4 litres of water and also a tent tied at the bottom.

He was cursing me inside, I knew it.


At last we arrived at the place and jumped straight into the water. To be honest, I much preferred the water at the beach in front of his house in Saline. It was much clearer and cleaner there, and less crowded obviously. But after being all hot and sweaty all day long, jumping into that water was the best thing we could ask for.

After the sunset, people started leaving, but we stayed. We stayed on a big long beach near the entrance of the cave. Full moon was a good natural light for us as the night creeped over the sky. We lay on a towel, watching the stars and snacking on taralli and toasted chickpeas.

Yes, toasted uncooked chickpeas.

There were only us on the beach, and it was amazing. We went skinny dipping at around midnight before coming back up to dry ourselves and called it a night.

It felt so liberating. That was my first time camping with anyone but my parents.




The next night, we slept next to a small river in Orsomarso, a cosy tiny village up the mountain. After rafting that morning, we found ourselves with 10 euros cash in for the day because the rafting place didn’t accept card. There was no ATM in Orsomarso, and only one shop that accepted card there.

We were dancing like children when the lady came and open that shop, almost half an hour later than the ‘opening time’. At least we knew we would not starve to death.

And Antonio went crazy. He bought like 3 different kinds of deli meat and cheese, beans, bread, tuna and stuff. Then we walked out of town to put our tent up before walking on the trail along fiume argentino.


The trail was lovely, and walking along the stream really reminded me of my dad. We walked and talked and stopped to pick berries or explore varieties of tree. There was a small medicinal garden in there, and they even had fern!

We headed back after the sunset and got a little terrified because of stray dog and a pair of animal eyes staring at us from the woods. Then as soon as we got into the tent, we ate.

That was probably the most memorable meal I had in the whole of Calabria, not because of the food but the experience itself, where I was and who I shared that meal, that hike, and that journey with.

I had never seen Antonio as a (stereo)typical Italian guy, let alone Southern Italian which somewhat would have an even stronger ‘Italian-ness’ (if that’s even a word) Originally from Calabria, he had, more or less, been brought up in Bologna and only spent a few years of high school in the region where his family was from.

Before leaving Bologna, I was told how traditional and conservative people in the village could be. It was seen as a norm to marry someone from the same village and such. I found it hard to believe, especially when I see him as this ultra open-minded person he was.


But what he said was true. Saline was a small village and it reminded me a little of my hometown in Thailand. Every knew each other and old people sat outside in front of their houses at night, talking. Big birthday celebrations, the importance of your family.

I wasn’t quite sure what I expected before I got there, but certainly not something as traditional as this. This place was like an authentic village, where locals and only locals lived, an mostly old people.

And I saw the other side of my boyfriend, something similar to who I would become when I go back home to my family.

In Bologna, he had it all in control; his place, his space, his kitchen, his life. He was a grown-man taking care of other people in the house.


Here in Saline, I saw him as a brother, as a son, as a grandson. He let his guard down, and he was more like when he was with me with other people around here too. His smile was sweeter, his laugh seemed happier, more genuine. He let other people take care of him, look after him. He would call his dad to check in when we went out hiking. He was more relaxed here, and I loved seeing that.

Though how conservative and religious people from there were surprised me a little. It would not have registered in my mind if he had not told me that by bringing a girl home, it would indicate that you two would be getting married. In that case, it’s expected that you bring her around ad introduce her to your whole extended family.

Otherwise no one would be really that interested in you. Well, you are not planning to get married and become a part of the family, so why bother?

Basically there were two types of relationship there, the one for fun and the one for life, nothing in-between. Although he did explained to his dad later what we were, and how I was important to him.

Learning about all these things, about where he grew up, about his background, his past, and a part of his childhood, it made me want to share mine with him too.

I had never thought I would be travelling with someone.

Travelling with my Couchsurfing friends was imaginable, but other than it had barely ever crossed my mind. How did I ended up travelling around Calabria with my boyfriend, that I wasn’t quite sure.

Well, maybe because he was originally from there. Even though Calabria had never entered into any of my travel plans, it was a good opportunity to discover this rather ‘untouched’ region (and considerably unknown to many people outside Italy.)

When mentioned that I would be going to Calabria to Italians, question marks appeared on their faces, like they wanted to ask, ‘Why are you going there?’ and to people outside Italy, even Europeans, often asked where Calabria was.

After the quick 1 night stop in Rome, our Blablacar driver picked us up on the hottest sunny afternoon, and off we went down South, on a 7-hour drive to the toe of Italy.

We drove through the mountains and along the sea, the landscape of this place already had my heart.

I drifted in and out of sleep, listening to Italian conversations between the two sisters from the neighbouring town and my boyfriend, Antonio. At some point that night, we entered a small village by the sea called Saline Joniche, the place where Antonio came from.

From then, it was more about the experience, not the place. Every experience was new to me.

After a light dinner, we went out for a walk along the main street and he recalled the atmosphere of this village when he was a child to me, how people moved out to find work and the place was slowly dying. I could sense the nostalgic feeling in his voice when he talked about the big fair on the street he used to go, or how lively a bar next to his house was.

The next two and a half weeks in Calabria were quite interesting for me. This trip was definitely much different than any other I have experienced. I didn’t feel like I have learned, seen or experienced much of Calabria, but instead I learned about myself as much as what it’s like to share this travel experience with someone else. I learned to compromise and I learned about silly habits I would like to get rid of. It really was the trip about my relationship I thought it would be at the beginning, only so much more about that than I expected it to be.

There were more sweet than bitter moments, but both were equally important and valued. We learned to deal which each other’s mood and habits. I learned to stop and compromise. We learned to talk and apologise.

I also learned a lot about myself and the way I overthink things. I was scared of making decision because I was afraid of the consequence. Since I didn’t travel by myself, it wasn’t just me who would bear the consequence of my decisions, and I didn’t want to feel responsible for his feelings. I was afraid to be blamed when something went wrong, and sometimes I didn’t want to say my crazy weird ideas out loud because I knew that he would be likely to let me choose what I want to do just for me to be happy. But I wanted him to make the choices he want too.

Although I also knew that seeing me happy was what made him happy as well.

This trip also thought me about the beauty of sharing all these new experiences with someone. Someone who was willing to be a part of my journey. At the end, what I would remember from this trip was more likely to be those moments we shared, rather than beautiful places. Like the two hours of sweaty walk uphill and the conversation about travelling we had, running our of cash while we were staying in a small village or having rustic dinner in our tent after a long walk along the river; our sunset, sunrise and midnight (skinny) dips in the sea or lying on the beach, gazing into the stars under the moonlight. The beaches I had been to in Sardinia were no doubts much more stunning than here, but there were no beautiful shared memories created on those beaches.

Unlike when I was in Puglia, it wasn’t Calabria that had left an impression on my, it was being in Calabria with Antonio that did.

This had truly become a journey of my relationship. Something that had crossed my mind before but never thought it would happen so early. Right here, right now.

Cala Gonone is another well-known spot in Sardinia. Before going there, I was wondering why this place was so popular. I mean, there are beautiful sandy beaches everywhere. I thought I would be spending another day lying on the beach reading my book.

But I was wrong. I walked and walked and walked a lot here. Even though I only visited one beach.

There are many beaches and caves along the coast between Cala Gonone and Tortolí, and there are two ways of accessing them. First is to walk and second is to take a boat. If you are unlucky and happen to be in the area on a windy day, then you are left with only one option, which is to walk.



I decided to leave town early in the morning and headed to Cala Luna. My host said that the path went through the woods and forest, so no worry about it being too hot at midday.

Either he was wrong, or there was a misunderstanding in our communication, the sun was burning down at me almost the whole 3 hours of my walk. I kept going on the dusty path, my hiking shoes covered in powdery dirt and I was sweating my body weight out. I was determined to go hiking today, not to go to the beach. Hence I didn’t even bring a towel with me. Although less than halfway through I couldn’t wait to jump into the cold water.

Walking down from the cliff to see light blue bay and white sandy beach, paradise felt much closer to me.



At last, I slowly walked down and headed towards the sea, through trees blossomed with pink flowers and a sign pointing out a way to the beach. It was just like I was about to discover paradise, just like in the movie The Beach.



To be honest, the beach at Cala Luna wasn’t that spectacular comparing to the effort I had to make to get there. There was no sandy beach but pebbles which hurt a little. What was a little bit more particular were the caves that you could go inside and hide from the sun while still looking out at the crystal blue sea.

What made I appreciate this place, ironically, was the fact that I had to walk 2 hours to get there. Soaked in my own sweat, at that point all I wanted was to jump into the sea.

And that was what I did.

Thing really worth more when they are harder to get. I really believe so.

At first, I was unsure if I should go to Santa Teresa because I didn’t have much time and everything felt like a rush. However, within less than 6 hours of being there, I already decided I would stay one more night.

What was it in Santa Teresa di Gallura that got me hooked?



After spending the last two days on the beach around Palau, just reading, eating and sleeping (maybe also swimming…occasionally), I started to get bored. Once I got to Santa Teresa, my host took me to Capo Testa that afternoon. I had heard about this place before but I didn’t really know what to expect. Turned out that there were rocks everywhere, and they were big enough that it was fun to climb up and down the rocks next to the sea.

So up and down we climbed, and I learned that I really liked being active. Beach holiday where you just lie there on the towel reading and talking just wasn’t my thing. It might be good for a day or two but then I would feel the need to move again. So the abundance of hiking trails in Capo Testa really got me hooked.



After that, we also hiked the nearby Valle della Luna, known for the hippy people who built their shelters there and stay all year long, or some that would camp there during the summer period, living in the wild and smoking weed just like that.



Apart from what it was famous for, though, the place was breathtakingly beautiful. As we entered the valley the sun was low over the horizon and the light was perfect. It seemed like this valley was under the spell. And once you got inside there were so many more hiking paths for you to discover. I decided to return to this place again next evening. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

That night, I had a chance to sleep on a sailing boat. My Couchsurfing host rented out two apartments he had in town and he said if I wanted to stay I would have to sleep on a sailing boat with him. He asked if that would be okay for me and of course I said yes. How often would you get to sleep on a sailing boat like this?



He brought some prawns and vegetables for dinner. So after I got back from my hike that night, we made our way to the boat and started to grill our dinner right there, on the boat, surrounded by seawater. It was such a memorable experience.

I slept in the little cabin that night and he on the mattress on a bench outside. The small sailing boat consisted of the ‘bedroom’ I was in, a tiny toilet, small living room and an area designated for cooking. It was what I imagined sleeping in a converted can would be like, just that this was on the water instead of solid ground. The waves and wind made the boat rocked a little like I was in a baby clot, just perfect to put me to sleep.



Waking up on the boat wasn’t bad either, because as soon as you woke up, you were just there, surrounded by other boats, out in the fresh open air as the smell of seawater hit your nose and the morning sunshine hit your skin. It was a great experience but not the most comfortable way to live.

I think I would opt for a van life though…as soon as I learn how to drive that is.

Having only 3 weeks in Sardegna, I had to be by the seaside at some point. So after ten days in Martis, I left and went up North to Palau.

That was a good decision I made. The sea here was really incredible.





Starting in Palau, my main goal of staying there was to visit La Maddalena, an archipelago North of the main island, just 15 minutes on a ferry to get there. I set my alarm and woke up early that morning. During the beginning of high season like this, even the more remote beaches could be very packed. Once I got of the ferry on La Maddalena, I managed to find a lift to Caprera, the small island on the east side. From there I walked to a small beach not too far away, left all me stuff on the towel under the shady tree, and off I jumped into the crystal clear blue water.

So refreshing.



Even though the beaches here could be as crowded as those in Thailand, I was impressed by how clean and wild beaches could be here. Maybe it was only at the places I chose to go, which required a little walk to get there, or sometimes even a proper trek with trekking shoes. There were no shops, restaurants or hotels around, just you and the beauty of nature. The water was so clean and clear, many bays were free of boats and the water was still that you could swim as if you were in a pool, apart from some fish, jellyfish and starfish you could see under the water which would remind you of where you were.


I hadn’t been to any spectacular beaches like this for almost ten years, at last, all the water to Italy, here I was. I swam and swam until my skin got tanned and my energy lever was low. Before going back to Palau, I took a walk around town and bought some sweet treats, including this amaretto cookie with blueberry and fig jam inside. The girl behind the counter said it was the speciality of this island, I wasn’t sure if I believed her but it wasn’t a bad treat, just overly sweet like any other amaretti.




Back in Palau, I got a lift to Porto Rafael and walked up to the viewpoint of Punta Sardegna to see the sunset. It was one of the best sunset spots I had ever been to, and I had been to quite many. It was the highest point around, at the tip of the North coast, surrounded by small, foggy mountainous islands. It was the perfect landscape combination of the mountain and the sea.



On top of that amazing view, there was that perfect ‘bench and table’ where an American couple was sitting there with a bottle of Rose the same colour as the sky. It also had the best viewpoint of the surrounding area.

Well, one thing I learned from here is to bring someone else with me next time.

It might seem like I am never satisfied with where I’m living, I always want to move. Until I came to Bologna, Italy. Here, I want to stay for a longer while.

Though not in summer, definitely not, so I left again.

Summer in Bologna is almost unbearable. The heat was trapped inside the city and there were no wind, no rivers, no lakes and no beaches to cool you down. There were two ways out, staying in the basement all day and go out at night, or leave the city and go somewhere near the sea.

I chose the latter, with no second thought. Also because I really missed seafood.

After asking around some Italians for the best places to go to the sea, the first answer was always Puglia, and then Sardegna. Since I have been to Puglia before, and the thought of a wild, untouched nature on the biggest island of Italy provoked my curiosity, making decision was that hard.


So I bought two cheap flights from Bologna over to the island of Sardegna.

Before coming here, I had a picture of Sardegna in my mind. Since everyone whom I told where I was going always said something like, ‘Wow, Sardegna is wonderful! But very expensive…’ so I just imagined this crystal clear blue water and white sandy beach.

I arrived at Alghero airport in the afternoon. To get to Sassari where my host lived, I had to take a bus which would leave in an hour an a half. Of course I didn’t want to wait at the airport for that long, so I wandered out to the parking area and decided I would ask someone who were about to leave just in case they were going to Sassari. I asked the first couple I saw, and jackpot, they were going exactly where I was going. So they gave me a lift straight into town.

They had two daughters, one lived in the mainland of Italy and the other in Lithuania. So they understood me, a girl who travelled abroad by herself. They wanted to welcome me to their country and gave me a good first impression, the same way that they wanted other people to do it to their daughters who lived far away from them.

And so my first impression of Sardegna was memorable. I hope it would continue to be wonderful like this.

Ten days ago, I packed up my apartment in Bologna and moved all my stuff out.

It was a short 4-month stay, but so many things had happened that it felt like I had been here forever. I still question myself every once in a while how did I end up here, making pasta with grandmas, roaming around the city by bike, eating gelato for dinner, shopping at a slow food farmer’s market and having simple conversations with shopkeepers in Italian.

Oh, and somehow ended up having an Italian boyfriend, which was probably the last thing I could imagine happening within these four months, but somehow it did.

Maybe that was what made it even more memorable, and made saying goodbye so much harder.

What surprised me the most, though, was how much I learned from this relationship.

After having been by myself, taken care of myself and been so ‘independent’ of anyone since I left home, it took some time to learn how to open up, and to share my thoughts and feeling with another person. Not only that, but even on the physical level it was hard.

But as adaptive as I am, at the end I learn. Everything was fast, far too fast than I could ever imagine.Though I didn’t regret a single decision I made. I learned to share my life with someone, to open up and share my feelings, to say what I think, what I feel. I learned both about myself as well as about being in a relationship. I learned to compromise and I experienced the beauty of sharing. Nothing has to be perfect in order to be beautiful, as long as happiness is shared between two people.

All of the sudden, I didn’t feel the need to visit all the places anymore. I much enjoy spending time in the kitchen, cooking together, baking and going grocery shopping, training in the morning or dancing in the kitchen. The simplicity of everyday life shared with someone became equally as enjoyable as travelling to new places.

Maybe because all these things, when shared with someone, are also new experiences for me.

In the past two months, my feeling grew and grew, and rooted deeper and became stronger. I had never thought I could become so close to someone within such a short amount of time. When it all began, I didn’t expect myself to have come this far.

But I did, and it had been beautiful. I shared so much of myself with this other person, and more important than being a lover, he’s also my best friend.

That would never change. A part of me would never forget how bare and naked I could let myself be around this person, and comfortable I had become around him.

Then it was time to leave. Though I would be gone for only 3 weeks, but almost every day in the past two months I had not been alone. I got used to all those hugs and kisses, falling asleep and waking up with someone. The fact that I was going to be without him again for 3 weeks just made me realised how much I loved this person, how much he meant to me, and how beautiful those two months had been.

After all, I think it’s important to step away from everything for a bit, in order to see things in a much clearer picture.

I know that one day it might end, but I would not regret a single decision I made. By being in this relationship with him, I have lived so many ordinary but new experiences and I have learned something through every one of them. He has become such a big part of my growth and I will be forever grateful. He has left something inside me forever and I would never forget.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It’s often the case for me, and maybe for many people too, that I would ignore what’s close to me. I have written so many things about other cities I visit, other cultures, but rarely about those where I actually lived, or live. But since moving to Bologna, a city rich in food cultures and delicious goods, it’s about time I start to write about the place where I live in.

And luckily, I was invited by my friend’s granny to join her and her family for lunch in their country house outside Modena.



Emilia-Romagna is a region in central-North of Italy, where food is probably one of the first words people associate this place with. It was the birth place of raw Parma ham, Parmegiano Reggiano, aceto balsamico, and the lovely knotted ravioli called ‘tortellini’ and ‘tortelloni’

Plus, the gelato in this town is just divined.

Simply said, people who travel to this region, their main reason is probably to eat, just like me.

So, where else would be a better place to learn about how the Bolognese people eat, if not at a lovely grandma’s house where she makes her own fresh pasta almost every weekend, and ferment her own balsamic vineger in the attic room?





It was a warm and sunny summer morning when my friend Giulia picked me up from the train station in Modena and drove me out into the countryside. When we got there, her grandma already made quite a lot of tortelloni, but of course I was there to learn so we made some more together. Starting of with making the egg pasta dough by mixing just plain flour with eggs, 100g. flour per egg. She rolled the dough out thinly in two different ways, using the metre-long rolling pin in a traditional way, and an electronic pasta machine which saved much more time and work. Then I had a go at folding the lovely tortelloni knot, filled with ricotta, spinach and parmesan.



After the pasta-making session, we tried some homemade aceto balsamico and Giulia showed me the attic room where the vinegar was produced by her dad. As we entered the room filled with small wooden barrels, the sweet and sour smell hit my nose. She explained the the balsamic had to be done in the attic because it required the extreme temperature, cold winter and hot summer.

This balsamic was so good that you can simply eat it on bread, parmesan, ricotta or even gelato.

Yes, balamic-drizzled gelato had become my new favourite.

We had a walk around the garden in the hot midday sun. Almost-ripe red cherries and amarena (sour cherries) were hanging from the trees. Their land was full of fruit trees, peaches, plums, apricots, persimmons, watermelons, and also many other vegetables, and a small vineyard (where they harvest the grapes for the balsamico) It was just like my countryside dream life.

This was my ‘stereotypical Italian life’ preconception I had, and would probably continue to have.



Back in the kitchen, her grandma was preparing some bread for later. There are several types of interesting bread in this regions. Piadina, a flatbread made traditionally with lard and stuffed with different filling like sandwich is one of the most popular. Tigella, a small but thicker bread, grilled using a special pan that leaves flower pattern on the surface of the bread, is also eaten stuffed with cold cuts, cheese or grilled vegetables like a mini sandwich. What the granny was making from scratch, though, was a fried bread called ‘gnocco fritto’ A thin slice of dough, deep-fried in hot oil until puffy and golden-brown. I didn’t expect to like it very much since deep-fried stuff, especially on a hot day like this, is nor really my think. However, spreading fresh ricotta and topped with homemade sour cherry jam before folding it in hald, that first bite screamed ‘more! more!’



So I fell in love, with ricotta, balsamic vinegar and cherry jam.

Lunch composed of fresh salad from the garden, ricotta and spinach tortelloni with sage butter, tigella and gnocco fritto with cheese, cold cuts and grilled vegetables. Of course, the meal ended with gelato, and a shot of homemade limoncello with the lemons from their garden.



It didn’t surprise me that the concept of slow food was born in Italy. People are still living this lifestyle now, in a very genuine and non-pretentious way.

I was well-fed and stuffed until dinner. Her grandma gave me a big bag of fresh tagliatelle we made this morning, and invited me to come back again. Next time we can make lasagna, she said.



Well, it’s probably not very common to meet a food-lover traveller from a faraway land like me, maybe that’s why I managed to make this Italian nonna fall in love with me over a course of lunch.

Of course I would not so no to such invitations, not for a second.

Sitting on the FrecciaBianca train back to Bologna, with seven hours ahead of me, trying to process everything that happened in the last to weeks. It’s not easy. So many things happened, people, places and feelings.

I didn’t know what to expect when I boarded the train in Bologna two weeks ago. Two weeks in Puglia by myself, without a lot of plans apart from learning about food and making this documentary about kindness of strangers, I thought I would have days sitting in a cafe somewhere, writing and working project.

The trip unfolded itself so beautifully. I had no expectations to begin with, but what happened in these two weeks definitely exceeded anything I could have expected for.

Especially all the people met, all those who offered me the Southern hospitality, all the kindness I received was beyond my imagination.

I am overwhelmed, and it is hard to find any words to express my gratitude towards all these people.


Thank you Noemi for the great beginning of this trip, hosting me and spending time with me even though she didn’t feel very well. Her friend Daniela who spent the afternoon with me in Bari, walking around and sharing stories with each other.

Thank you Eleanora, her mother Patrizia and her brother Maximilian, who offered me their hospitality after our short meeting in Bologna. They shared with me the interesting traditions of Pugliese food and we spent some wonderful time doing some food photography together. It’s so nice to spend time with someone like Eleanora, who share the same passion for food and photography with me.

Thank you Viviana and her family for having me and my friend Sara over Easter holiday, showing us the beauty of small towns in the area and cooking delicious food for us. They were so openminded and Viviana was so keen to learn about our cultures as much as we wanted to learn about her. I loved the mixture between traditional and alternative way of living they follow.

Thank you Sara, who once was the ‘stranger’ I became friend with, for being such a good company. I would never for get our excitement as we opened the little package of chocolate like children, or teared open a warm loaf of bread in the train station and stuffed our faces into it, ignoring the weird look people gave us. I cannot think of anyone else to spend these days in Altamura and share the same obsession with these crazy things like her.

Thank you Lorenzo, friend of Viviana and Domenico, with whom we drove through Altamura at night to get some sweets after dinner, got in a car accident together, and drove us to Trani the next morning. The random kindness and encounters I would never forget.

Thank you Miriam for a short stay in Ostuni on the windiest day. She showed me how to make orecchiette con cime di rape and made me feel so Italian it would have been impossible to tell she was German. Despite the bad weather I was glad I stopped by at this white city and got to meet her.

Thank you Andrea for being such a considerate and dedicated host, showing me around Lecce at night and shared with me the wonderful stories of both his town and is life, and a beautiful drive down to the deep South.

And thank you to Manuela and her family, the perfect ending of my trip, for welcoming me to the deep South with a lot of smiles and kisses. I was a part of this family and they showed me not only the beauty of Salento and its culture, but also the generosity, kindness and wonderful hospitality of the deep South. It’s impossible to put my feelings into words.

If someone ask me weather I would come back to Puglia again, I have my answer, without a second thought, on the tip of my tongue…

While Andrea was very careful with his action and gave me a handshake when we first met, Manuela and her family greeted me with kisses on both cheeks. Not only when we first met, but also every morning, every time we left the house, and every night before we went to bed.

Welcome to the deep South, or ‘Il Profondo Sud’ that Manuela referred to.


After speaking English so fluently with Andrea in the past two days, it was time to switch into Italian around the table at lunchtime in Tricase.

I contacted Manuela, or Pocca, the nickname she had while she was studying in Pisa (which was a slang in her hometown meaning yes/sure) like a month in advance. She hadn’t been online for weeks and I didn’t have much expectation, but I sent her a message anyway because she was hosting in a family and she also loved chocolate.

To my surprise, she answered my request and said that her and her family would be happy to host my in Salento.

Not just hosting, but welcoming me to their family.


Apart from working in the IT department at the hospital in town, Antonio, her dad, also maintained a big orchard and kitchen garden, growing almost everything from strawberries to apricots to lemons to bunnies and chickens (for eggs). On the other piece of land they grew almonds, olives and grains to make their own flour for bread and pasta. They also made their wine, had solar panels and collect rainwater for domestic use.

I mean, wow, I was impressed.


I was not only lucky to meet and stay with this family, but also to be in Tricase, or Tutino (a small part of Tricase) on this weekend when they had this Christian festival/celebration called Madonna delle Grazie, which always happened a week after Easter. There was a ‘processione’ or a kind of religious parade similar to those found on Easter Friday, and afterwards a stunning fireworks display at a small castle in town. Then on Sunday morning there was a fiera, something like flea market that sold almost everything from panties to homemade cheese. On the last night they had ‘sagra’ where you could try traditional food very cheaply, followed by traditional live folk music and dance from Salento, where I learned the typical dance of this region called Pizzica. Thanks to Manuela for being such a good teacher!


Her aunt and uncle from Lecce also came for a visit that weekend. They had a business which imported goods from Bali and had been visiting Bali every year. It was very interesting to hear their perceptions of Asia, especially when they were from older generations and not the typical backpackers you would normally meet. We had a big lunch together on Sunday, with homemade orecchiette and ragu, rabbit meat, artichokes salad from the garden, ice cream with fresh strawberries that Antonio collected two hours before, ended with some liquor and dark chocolate from the easter egg.

Probably one of the longest lunches I have ever experienced.


When Manuela didn’t have to work, she showed me around Salento. We walked through the pine woods at Porto Selvaggio, visited more towers than I could possibly remember (and she knew the name of almost all of them!), and went to Leuca, the Southernmost part of Puglia where the two oceans (Ionian and Adriatic) met. The evening in Leuca, the sky was clear and it turned pink as the sun set. Unfortunately there was no places to stop the car and enjoy the colours, but she said it was much better in Gallipoli.

So one afternoon after work, she took me there to see the sunset over the sea.


The sky and the water turned pink and as the sun kissed the horizon. Every time I saw the photos from that evening, I could feel the warmth and kindness of Manuela coming out of them.

She gave without expecting anything in return, just to see my happy and she was content too.

I didn’t know how I could possibly thank her enough. I hope she knew how much I enjoyed the time at her place, and how much these 5 days meant to me.

In the past two weeks, I kept asking myself what was the reason that all these ‘strangers’ were so kind to me. That day, I stopped asking. I just turned to Manuela and told her how wonderful she was, hugged and kissed her on the cheek to say thank you.


The last five days with this family marked the end of my trip to Puglia, and it was the best ending I could possibly asked for.

It was the ending that made me decided, with strong will and determination, to come to Puglia again in September (if not before)

Because I knew that someone would be waiting to welcome me back here.

Andrea punctually picked me up from the train station in Lecce, I wasn’t surprise to learn that he lived and worked in Germany before for 5 years.

He was one of the many hosts I contacted in Salento, as well as his girlfriend Manuela who lived in a small town in the deep South of the region. They agreed to host me in Manuela’s house with her family. However, a week before my intended stay, they had to drive to France unexpectedly because her uncle who lived there was ill and went to the hospital. After receiving her message, I thought to myself; ‘Here I go, another uncertainty in life to keep my trip exciting.’ But she said she would be back before I arrived, and if I needed anything I should contact her boyfriend.

After talking to Andrea, he suggested that I should stay in Lecce with him for a few days first before going down to the deep South, and that was what I did.


I didn’t expect him to come and pick me up with his car, but then he explained that here almost everyone drive. First thing here that reminded me of home in Thailand.

He just moved to this apartment around a month or two ago, and said that it wasn’t quite ‘completed’ yet. The other bedroom was still used as a storage and I was sleeping on a sofa bed in the living room. Thought for me, this place was perfect, and so was its host.

Andrea was probably the most considerate host I have met. It was cleared that he had come in contacts with many cultures and seen the big difference between European and Asian cultures. So he was very careful and made it clear from the first day that if I felt uncomfortable with anything just let him know.

Little did he know that I was like a lizard that could adapt to its environment within a blink of an eye.

After a nice warm shower, I felt clean like a normal person again and we were ready to went out and explore Lecce at night.


Either because it was a Thursday night or the temperature dropped recently, Leccese people decided to stay home and left the streets pretty empty. But I loved it that way, Baroque architecture illuminated with yellow street lights was so charming. Andrea led me through the old town and told me some stories and history of this Baroque town before we sat down next to an outdoor heater of one of the bars. He ordered some food and wine for both or us (apparently I had no idea what was what.) I sipped a glass of Primitivo, a well-known local wine, and munched on frisellini, burrata, rockets and tomatoes with aromatic Pugliese extra virgin olive oil.



After 15 years of studying in Pisa, working in Germany and travelling through America and East Asia, he decided to come back and started his own business in Lecce. He used to organise Couchsurfing meeting here every week, which was where he met Manuela. Through out conversations over the table, we shared some travel stories and I could feel the mixture of Southern Italian and German in him. It quite a good combination of cultures actually.


The next morning, we went down to a bar under his flat and had a pasticiotto, a typical pastry from Lecce filled with cream, for breakfast. It was surprising good, warm and crispy on the edge, especially considering that this was just a neighbourhood bar and the closest one to us. We found out later that everything there was ‘fatto in casa’ or made at home, even croissant or pastry cream.

Then I understood why that pasticiotto was so good. I would even walk out of the city centre to have some warm pastries at this place if I would find myself in Lecce again.

I stayed in at his place for one more night, and on Saturday morning drove me down to Manuela’s place in the deep South. Manuela also offered to drive all the way up to Lecce just to pick me up and go back to her town, even though there was a train connection between Lecce and Tricase. I understood when I found out that it would take 2 hours on a train, without any delay, while it was only an hour on a car.

Just like in Thailand.


I wasn’t sure if it was the Southern hospitality or I just happened to meet extremely nice people who would love to show me the beauty of their hometown. As we drove along the Adriatic coast to the South, we stopped at the colourful Lago di Bauxite where the water was so blue and deep red rock so bright. Then we walked along the rocky coast for a little bit.


The water here was so blue and so clear. I was smiling to myself and couldn’t believe what was in front of my eyes. If the water wasn’t too cold, I would have jumped into the sea.

I was so happy to be there, in the sunshine in front of the sea where the wind lightly hit my face, looking at the infinite horizon.

And to meet all these lovely people…Andrea had been taking care of me so well, and it was so nice to feel like you were taken care of, especially when you lived so far away from home.

All this kindness I received, I would never forget.