Heading to Puglia

The best laid plans

It wasn’t planned this way. Who would choose it? When we planned this holiday many months ago we didn’t even know when the final of the European Championships would be. Let alone that England would be playing. Yet, here we were, flying through the night sky, high over Europe, disconnected from the world as somewhere many miles below us, in Berlin, England were kicking off against Spain in their second consecutive Euros final.

In the dark

We land and all around us there are phones being switched out of airplane mode. No point in us doing the same as our Australian phones have no data. Suddenly I can hear commentary. Albeit, in a language that isn’t English. A small child across the aisle to us has the game on his phone, and just as we are about to ask the score, he cheers. The question is, who is he supporting? I have to find out. 

“Goal?”, I ask?

I get a nod. Nothing else. Come on, kid, give me something. 

“Who scored?”

I feel instantly deflated at his reply. We are losing 1:0, conceding not long after the second half resumes.

We shuffle off the plane and the night heat of Bari immediately hits us. The flight from Stansted airport was short and painless. A couple of weeks visiting family and friends in England had come to a close. It takes years for these visits to come around, and they go by in a flash. A blur of catch ups, lunches, and many drinks. And each time we meet, we are all a couple of years older. 

Collecting the hire car in Bari

I feel like I am ageing even faster as we make our way to clear customs and pick up a hire car. My phone is now connected to the airport wifi and now keep refreshing BBC Sport for updates to the football. I have a flashback to using Teletext on a Saturday afternoon to check the Division 1 football scores. We are still losing as we fend off Europcar’s insistent offer of roadside assistance and full insurance to remove all excess. I am tired, we are losing in the final, and no, I do not want to give you any more money. Grazie.

Just as the keys are handed over, I cheer. Not because we finally have a Fiat 500 to tour Puglia, but because Cole Palmer has just equalised. Game on.

Leaving the airport terminal we head left. Past the bright lights of the money exchange counters that make all airports look the same. It is dark as we enter the rental car park and it takes us a while to find the car. Parked at the very back. We enjoyed driving the Fiat 500 whilst in Provence a couple of years ago so we decided to book another. Thankfully, as we travel light, we could just about get all our luggage in. As we pull out of the car park, I see that I have lost wifi. And with it my hopes of following along to the conclusion of the football final.

Leaving Bari for Monopoli

Whilst Bari is supposedly a beautiful city to spend a couple of days in, we headed south. Our Puglia road trip started with a 50 minute drive down the coast to the town of Monopoli. Settling into the left hand drive, negotiating the very dark motorway and Italian drivers taking no notice of the speed limits, Vik was a picture of composure. Whilst everyone around her drove like they were in the midst of a great emergency, Vik calmly and confidently had us in Monopoli before midnight. It would have been slightly earlier but we misread Google Maps and ended up doing a tour around the outskirts of Monopoli. 

Monopoli has an historic centre, like many of the towns across Italy. And we knew that we couldn’t take cars in the old town. The only information we had received from the host of the AirB&B was that we could park in the white lines for free, and in the blue lines with a paid parking ticket. Late at night, tired, and not knowing whether we were European Champions or not, this is a harder task than it should be. Some roads had no lines at all. What did this mean for parking? 

Will the car be here tomorrow?

As we were scratching our heads I saw a little car leave what looked like a car park, across the road from where we were. I frantically waved Vik across to the vacant spot. We looked around the area and could see nothing that would suggest it was for residents, or that there was a time limit on how long we could leave the car. We got our bags, locked up the car and walked to our accommodation. Would the car be there in the morning or would it be towed away. We were too tired to worry. 

It was time to sleep. And dream of the 2026 World Cup. The long wait since 1966 continues. Spain scored a late winner and broke all of our hearts. It’s time to take advice from Ted Lasso. It is time to be a goldfish.

Buona notte