Ostuni is a white city in the cliffs that has been constantly inhabited since the Stone Age. It’s old and fresh, large and compact, all at the same time. I was surprised to find it all relatively empty; it felt like we were the only ones on some of the whitewashed, stone streets.

Palms, succulents, everywhere. The streets wind circular, around the center of a hill. Up, up, higher toward the center with no direction other than an instinct for up. I remember laundry, grand arches, a grand green and gold door. A woman hanging sheets quietly across from a café built into the stairs that is playing loud music. At the top of the hill, an enormous cathedral. People sitting outside, sipping on wine or coffee.

In my head, still, the city is only white and green.


Ostuni, Puglia region of Italy, October

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