“It is now that the sweetness of the sun covers the sea with rare colours. You look at it from a cliff, walking in the Mediterranean scrub, and the Adriatic has the deep blue of a high-altitude sky; not even an hour and you’re on the other side, enchanted by the Caribbean transparency of the Ionian, with its white beaches. You are accompanied by the scents of juniper, rosemary, the good shade of a pine forest. This extreme offshoot of Puglia, stretched between two seas like the prow of a ship, has a coast that gives its best every day, depending on the direction of the wind. Just as if we sailed. Then just ask the locals. Where is better today? Towards San Foca or Gallipoli? So you turn the car and cross Salento. Or go down south, towards Santa Maria di Leuca. Even just to be there when the sun sets and the white lighthouse of Punta Meliso lights up, which has illuminated the coast since the second half of the 19th century. The gaze extends without borders, embracing the port and the cliffs, up to that horizon which on the clearest days offers the mountains of Albania and those of Calabria. The heart of Salento is told in the blood red of its land, designed by low walls dry that divide the cultivated fields; in the white of some abandoned farmhouse that dominates a piece of lawn; in the green of the vineyards and olive trees, which turns silver when the sun goes down.”