April 11, 2023
In Galatina: in the city
We get off to a very slow start to the day, sleeping in and enjoying a first cup of coffee and not having breakfast until after Rachael makes a trip to the grocery store once it opens at eight. While she’s out shopping I map out a ride for myself, but by the time we’re finally ready to move I’ve changed my mind. we love our apartment but I really distrust this long set of stairs with its narrow, small steps and what must be about a 40 degree pitch. We’ll have to get the bikes down tomorrow when it’s time to leave of course, but it’s not worth it to me today as long as I’ve got a choice. I decide I’ll take a day off and explore the town while Rachael takes a long walk to the north.
It must be nearing noon by the time we’re finally on the street. She takes a photo of our front door as a future reference in case she gets confused when she returns and then heads north toward the countryside, and I head south toward the historical center.
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I didn’t plan out this walk well, seduced by the sunny sky into leaving home without my coat. It’s cool, and a strong south wind makes it positively chilly. I’m not as tough as my steely partner who will soldier on for four hours in this wind, so after a couple of hours I’ve had enough. I take a break sitting in front of a cafe staring at the basilica and nursing a coke and croissant, and another when I find a bench in the sun sheltered from the wind and just sit for a spell enjoying the warmth and watching the world go by, acting like the old codger that in fact I am. And then I head back to the apartment to warm up.
In those few hours though I get a pretty good feeling for Galatia, which after all is a fairly small place that doesn’t take all that long to explore. It really is an attractive town, packing a lot into its historical walls - a half a dozen churches of course, and around twenty palaces. Most of the streets you walk down have an impressive facade from some old palace that’s been standing there for centuries, a panel out front explaining its history and naming the dignitary who lived or visited there long ago.
The streets have the familiar Puglian look and feel, narrow crooked affairs surfaced with pavers that predate the invention of the internal combustion engine but still carry some small traffic nosing its way through and pressing the few strollers about up against the walls and into recessions for safety. It all really does look and feel a lot like Lecce, but without the crowds.
Some random shots from around town:
The Church of Saints Peter and Paul is one of the most important religious monuments in town. Most of it dates to the 17th and 18th century, replacing the predecessor church.
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And here’s another minor church, which I didn’t catch the name of or venture inside. Rachael and I stopped to give it a second glance on our way to dinner because of the intriguing complex sculpture that to me suggested a wolf. Zooming in though, it looks like it has a military theme, with munitions and cannon balls. I liked it better when I thought it was a wolf.
The jewel in Galatian’s crown though is the Basilica of Santa Caterina d'Alessandria. from Wikipedia:
The Basilica of Santa Caterina d'Alessandriadeclared a national monument in 1870, is one of the most important monuments of Italian Romanesque and Gothic art. It was built by Raimondo Orsini del Balzo between 1369 and 1391 to house the relic of the finger of Saint Catherine of Alexandria which he himself brought to Galatina on his return from the Crusades. When Raimondello died, his wife Maria d'Enghien decided to have the building completely frescoed (first decades of the 15th century ) by calling artists from various areas of the peninsula: workers from the Giotto and Sienese schoolsand a certain Franciscus De Arecio (Francesco d'Arezzo). The tricuspid facade, in Apulian Romanesque style, has a large rose window and finely carved portals. The interior, majestic in proportions, has five naves. Walls, pillars, archivolts, vaults and frescoes characterize it in every corner.
I saw it for the first time in my midday walkabout, but it was closed then so I contented myself with admiring its simple Romanesque facade from my cafe table enjoying my cornato and coke. In the evening though it was open for a service so Rachael and I peeked inside and were astonished by its completely frescoed interior. It was too dark for a really good look, but we’ll check again on the way out of town tomorrow to see if it’s open then.
I’ve been back in the room for an hour or so, filling my time by creating routes for the weeks ahead, when Rachael calls. She’s still a few miles off, coming my way but planning to stop somewhere for some nourishment because she uncharacteristically forgot to take any water with her. In another hour I meet her on the street, briskly walking my way looking fit and windblown.
For dinner we head off again to the city center, planning on a restaurant I spotted earlier. After spending some time exploring the sights on the way we arrive at the restaurant at 7:15, but finds it’s another spot where the information on Google is incorrect and they won’t actually open for another 45 minutes. Too long to wait around in the fading light nd dropping temperatures, so we check out every other nearby eatery and finally find one that’s open now: Anima & Cuore Ristorante Trattoria. We’re discouraged by the red Michelin stickers on the window, which to us suggests high prices and small portions - a fru-fru sort of place, as I think of them. I’m sure they serve up exceptional meals, but without a sense of taste or smell the refinements are lost on me.
We’re wrong though. It’s a welcoming place in a beautiful setting, apatently ann old palace. We enjoy an excellent, reasonably priced meal. We split a swordfish pasta as a starter, and then Rachael enjoys her sea bream while I feel adventurous and try the cavallo. I won’t be making. Habit of it, but its surprisingly tasty, with a berry sauce that makes me think of duck.
Afterwards we find we still have a bit of capacity left and stop in at a pastry shop for our first gelati of the tour, sitting in the chilling evening quickly polishing them off and watching a wedding party emerge from Saints Peter and Paul Church.
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