Our morning pizza, what we call breakfast, and Italians would call an impossibility, early lunch, was at Roberto forno a legna. The place has a very Southern Italian service model. First come in, ask for your food, only to be shooed outside to wait for your pizza to be ready. Second, get yelled at by the person behind the counter inside to come pick up your order. Lastly, only after you’ve enjoyed your meal may you return for the third time to pay and hand over your empty pizza box and utensils for disposal. A bit chaotic as an approach to food service, with more yelling than I usually like, but they make a good pizza, so I’m willing to forgive.
The main event for today: MARTa Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Taranto. It covers an impressive slice of history. Starting with figurines from twenty thousand years ago, all the way to the Roman inhabitants. A little more than half of the museum's content spans the period when the Spartans settled in the area, around 700 BC. Contrary to what movies might tell you, Spartans had a somewhat flexible definition of what made someone Spartan. During the First Messenian War, the sons of unmarried women were recognized as Spartans and allowed to serve as soldiers; once the war ended, however, this was nullified, and some of the newly recognized “Not Spartans” ended up in Taranto.
For all the approximate COVID safety measures we’ve seen, MARTa takes its responsibility very seriously. For the first time, our ID was checked with our vaccination records. Visits in the museum are restricted to small groups under supervision. We booked a “group” tour for three people, the minimum we could book. We expected to be guided through the museum, with other zombies listening to our earpieces for explanations from our guide. What happened, however, is quite different. We were escorted by someone who spoke no English and made sure we followed the arrows on the ground indicating the direction of travel through the floor; that’s it. The group was only composed of Karine and me. We were given one hour per floor (there are two floors) and saw no other visitors.
As a museum of pots, that’s what we call archeological museums, MARTa fared very well. Not only are the artifacts mostly intact and complete, but they have also limited the repetition of similar or identical pieces. It also spans several cultures, so there’s a good variety of what’s being depicted. The two-hour visit is fair. The one strange thing, besides being the only visitors on each floor we’ve visited, is that we were given the map of the place and documentation on the key artifacts on our way out. I don’t usually keep museum maps as souvenirs, but maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all these years?
We’ve decided to reflect on our museum visit by going day drinking. A little research found that ZTL Coffee & Gourmet Appetizer offered good coffee and good drinks, and after sampling their coffee and Aperol with its small tray of finger food, we must agree.
Dinner was across the island, on its northernmost tip. Our walk across the island confirmed that there isn’t much on the island itself. The bulk of the restaurants and bars we saw are on the periphery; the middle is essentially dead.
Frisc’ & Mmange, our restaurant for the evening, specializes in fish and seafood. We were offered a table in the parking lot, not necessarily a bad thing as we prefer outside tables, but it does affect the ambiance a little. As we’ve headed south, we’ve seen fewer and fewer people who can understand English. Our waiter couldn’t order a Big Mac at McDonald’s to save his life. The restaurant's menu is entirely in Italian, with no translation. It took a while for the waiter to understand why we were so slow in choosing. Karine’s Italian might be food-oriented, and I’m starting to pick up some keywords, but it still takes a while to decipher the thing. In the end, he pushed the sampling platter as an antipasti, we picked the mixed seafood risotto for two and found some mixed grilled and fried seafood as secondi. We asked many times if we were ordering too much food, but I think that short of ordering the entire menu, it would always be “perfecto”.
Mixed appetizers came with no description. Maybe it’s a surprise, perhaps they don’t feel like explaining it to the two foreigners. In any case, we play “what’s that chewy bit” for about 50% of what’s on the plate. The rest we figure from context. Everything tasted good. Playing meal roulette again affects the experience. The rest of the meal didn’t contain surprises, but no grand reveal either. In the end, good food but nothing more.
Tomorrow we’re heading to Lecce, in the middle of the boot’s heel. The plan is to use it as a base to explore the surrounding coastal towns.