It is Monday and I am in the heel of the boot of Italy, living in a trullo outside of Alberobello (Google 'em) where we will stay until at least Wednesday.
It is no longer dark where we are; all walls are white.
Written yesterday: The wind is whistling around our trullo and it is cool inside the thick walls. There are cherry and olive trees and strawberries growing outside. Our neighbors in the larger trullo nearby have two young children and a happy dog. They are from Vienna.
Our water is collected in a large underground cistern and we're cautious about using it to wash vegetables and lettuce - or even leaving it on our dishes, but I think it isn't too microbial since after unavoidable exposures we're both fine this morning (and two days later, too).
We're cooking our meals on a propane stove - simple pastas and fresh green beans and zucchini. The local red wine is surprisingly good, and very inexpensive.
Yesterday, on the way here from Fermo (another good story of a turtle at our "Bates Motel"), it finally began to rain - and it came down in torrents just as we were crossing a small city where the lanes were flooded. The temperature dropped from 31C to 18C - a welcome relief, perking us up considerably.
Sunday, while not cold, was again stormy. We may spend a week here, in spite of a "difficult" shower. After doing laundry and laying around most of the day, DB drove us around meandering backroads between here and Locorotundo and Martina Franca, often on one lane stonewall-lined passages, sometimes ending in deadends, but, fortunately, still negotiable and we always managed to keep going.
The gale-force wind didn't let up until late evening. And today, Monday, it has rained in buckets while here writing this - our towels, left outside to dry, will be soaked.