Yesterday, I took the train from Monopoli, where I’m currently staying, to visit the ancient and magical town of Ostuni—affectionately known as La Città Bianca, the White City. The journey was brief, just fifteen minutes by train, yet it felt as if I were traveling back in time.
After arriving at the station, I caught a local bus that wound its way up to the old town square. Ostuni sits proudly atop a steep hill, and beneath it stretches a vast carpet of silvery-green olive trees glistening in the sun.
It was a magnificent day—the sky a deep, unbroken blue. As the bus climbed higher, the whitewashed walls of Ostuni appeared in the distance, gleaming like polished marble under the radiant Apulian light. I was instantly captivated by this dazzling hilltop jewel, set amidst rolling olive groves that seem to whisper stories from centuries past.
Ostuni’s history stretches back millennia—from ancient tribes to the Normans and beyond—though much of what we see today dates from between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries. Its legacy reveals itself in every turn: the stately Gothic cathedral, the whitewashed houses, and the labyrinth of narrow medieval lanes where time seems reluctant to move forward.
From the summit, the view unfolds in all its splendor—a panorama sweeping across the countryside to the distant Adriatic Sea. One never tires of what Ostuni offers. Every corner hides a new discovery: a fragment of ancient architecture, a cheerful cafe, a boutique shimmering with color, or a gelateria that tempts even the most disciplined traveler.
Ostuni, like Monopoli and Polignano a Mare, is another crown jewel of Puglia—a place where the past and present coexist gracefully, and where time, it seems, still pauses to let visitors like me be enthralled by its mysterious, magical beauty.
(The writer is Professor Emeritus, Loyola Marymount University, Los Angeles)