Wine tasting in South America: Where to Go and What to Try

Outside of the well-known wine-producing countries of France, Italy and Spain, a quiet wine revolution is taking place in the southern cone. Down in South America, winemakers have been using European stock since the Jesuits arrived in the new world, to produce wines that are uncorked, poured, swirled, tasted, drunk, exported and lauded all over the planet.

Geography and climate dictate much of where good wine grapes will grow. Between the grape vines themselves, daily and yearly temperature fluctuations, the amount of rain and sunlight the grapes get, and even the amount of trace minerals in the soil, many factors determine the quality of the grape which vintners begin with, and the quality of the wine they can press and ferment from it. As a rule, grapes grow well at about 20-50 degrees north and south latitude. The climate that yields the best wine grapes is described as “Mediterranean,” with defined seasons.

In South America, Argentina and Chile lead the pack in production, and awards, with a few other countries, such as Uruguay, producing consistently well-reviewed wines for export, while Brazil’s sparkling wines win accolades.

Wine Tourism in South America

Wine tourism is taking hold in South America, and those from the northern hemisphere who are planning a trip should keep in mind that the seasons are reversed down in the southern cone, with the height of summer in January and February and wine harvests generally taking place in March and April.

Below you’ll find the main wine-producing, and thereby prime wine-tasting areas in South America, with a heavy focus on the big two, Argentina and Chile, a warning not to forget Uruguay, and information about wine in Brazil, Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, Colombia, and even Venezuela each of which are working to carve out a space for themselves in this growing industry.

Argentina

Argentina produced 2,900,000 metric tons of wine in 2007, which places it ahead of Chile in terms of production, though Argentina’s neighbor across the Andes actually exports more wine to other countries.

Visitors to Argentina will find that most wine tasting takes place in and around the city of Mendoza, which enjoys an extremely long spring and summer, and contributes to the health of the vines and the quality of the wines produced.

Argentina’s signature wine is Malbec, a red wine originally from the Bordeaux region of France. Argentina has been growing grapes for Malbec for over 150 years, but only in the last 20 has this wine truly taken off, and Argentina now produces more than 70% of the world’s Malbec. It is a dark red, and some people describe hints of blackberries and coffee beans but unless you’re a sommelier or have trained your nose with the Nez du Vin aroma set, you’ll probably just taste it and know if you like it or not, without identifying the underlying notes.

Entrepreneurial travelers and visitors to Mendoza can rent a car and fill it up with friends and strangers to visit the wineries on their own, (with a designated driver, please!), but more commonly, visitors to the area book day trips with travel agencies to take them amid the rolling hills of the wine region.

Booked-from-your home-country wine tours in Argentina generally consist of 4-and 5-star hotels and often pick up in Buenos Aires and include top-end everything, accommodations, wines and restaurants included. These tend to last from five to eight days and include the flight to Mendoza.

Wine lovers visiting the region Argentina may also like to visit areas other than Mendoza which produce excellent wines, such as Salta, to get a full picture of what Argentina has to offer. In addition to Malbec, Argentina also produces Chardonnay, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and also varieties such as Tempranillo, Bonarda, Barbera and Torrontés. Information on Argentine wines can be found on the Wines of Argentina website.

Chile

Just over the Andes from Argentina lies Chile, a diminutive strip of land sandwiched between the ocean and the cordillera, and which is exploiting its wine-growing regions to great advantage in recent years.

Chilean wines are popular exports, and its most fabled variety is Carménère, which has made a particularly big impact after the source vines Bordeaux suffered a blight and all but disappeared in their native France. In Chile the variety continues to be strong, and great efforts are made by the Chilean government to protect Chilean agriculture, including the wine industry.

Wine in Chile is not limited to Carménère, and the nation also produces prize-winning Cabernet Sauvingon, Merlot, Syrah and other varieties. As of this year, Chilean wine represents 40% of the wine imported to the United States, due both to its reputation and price-quality ratio. Chile is mainly known for its red wines, but it also produces quality white wines including Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Riesling, and even a small quantity of Gewürtztraminer. Blends and sparkling wines are also taking hold in Chile.

Chilean wine tourism, or enoturismo has taken off in recent years, with multi-day trips offered by various outfitters, which mainly focus on the Colchagua, Maule and Maipo valleys, which are not far from Santiago, though valleys north and south of the capital city also receive visitors.

A “wine train” takes wine tourists to Santa Cruz wineries, and includes tastings on the train as well as folkloric dance and talks on Chilean history, if visitors wish. Multi-day trips can be arranged in groups or privately, on train, by vehicle, or even by bicycle through the various valleys, and several wineries are easy to get to by public transportation, including the mass market Concha y Toro, which is just a few minutes from the end of the Santiago metro line.

For a complete listing the nation’s wine-producing regions, see the Wines of Chile website.

Uruguay

Uruguay, like Chile and Argentina, has a history of wine-production tracing back to its European ancestors. The country is well situated (if a bit humid in places) to produce good wines, and its shining star is Tannat, for which this small, Atlantic nation is known.

Most wine production takes place in the Canelones region, near the capital city of Montevideo. While many amateur wine-lovers would not come to Uruguay for wine tasting on its own, it is not uncommon to take a day or two here after touring some of the more selective wineries in Chile and Argentina.

Visit Uruguay’s wine website for more information about Uruguayan wines, including where to find distributors closer to home.

Brazil

Brazil is perhaps better-known for cachaça, the grain-alcohol that forms the base of the minty-lemony caipirinha, but several states in this vast country produce wines, including Rio Grande do Sul, Paraná, Santa Catarina, Mato Grosso, Minas Gerais, Bahia, Pernambuco and São Paulo, though the Serra Gaucha, north of Porto Alegre is one of the most commonly-visited.

Recently, Brazilian vintners have brought wines to tastings in Germany and California’s Sonoma. At a recent tasting held in Brazil, whites and sparkling wines were the best received, as the reds suffered from poor climatic conditions (excessive rain) that are typical of much of Brazil.

Wine tourism is doing well in Brazil, with multi-day tours and one-vineyard trips as the budget allows.

Peru

Just to the north of Chile and Argentina, where the Andes mountains grow even more soaring as they reach up into Peru, there are also several wine-producing areas where visitors can go wine-tasting.

Wine tourism in Peru is in its infancy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take advantage of a day tour, or organize your own to one of the wineries in the principal grape-growing regions near Lima, Ica and Arequipa.

And if it turns out you don’t love Peruvian wines, near Ica is also the famous region of Pisco, for which the main ingredient in Pisco Sour (Peru’s signature drink) is named.

Bolivia

Bolivia is not exactly world- renowned for its wine, but serious purveyors of the hard-to-find won’t want to miss wines produced in this nation, which dares to grow the fruit at 5,600 to 9,200 feet above sea level, when grapes in South America are normally grown between 2,000 and 3,000 feet.

Information on this wine high-altitude wine production is available on the vinosenlatura website, the name of which means “wines at altitude” in English. Near the municipality of Tarija, you can find wines produced by Campos de Solana, for example, whose offerings include Cabernet Sauvingon and Riesling.

As in Peru, much of the wine crop is destined to the national spirit, which in this case is Singani.

Ecuador

Ecuador actually imports quite a bit of wine from Chile, but it does produce its own as well, with grapes grown at 8,000 feet above sea level, where daytime temperatures are spring-like, and nighttime temperatures drop, which increases the grape’s sugar content, and makes for good wine.

At Estancia Chaupi, they produce Chardonnay, Palomino, Palomino Fino and Meritage wines. The vineyard is located about 6 miles south of the Equatorial line and in the foothills of the Andes in the Yaruqui valley. Ecuador also produces a sparkling wine and several fruit “wines” which are not technically wines since they are not made from grapes.

Colombia

Colombia may also surprise you with the presence of Ain Karim, a vineyard that produces wines under the brand name Marqués de Villa de Leyva, which started production in the 1980s, in the foothills near Sutamarchán. In a country which is largely tropical, and in a zone which is clearly outside of the prime grape-growing here the solution was also to grow grapes at an altitude, to fulfill the need for daily temperature fluctuation. This vineyard’s website proclaims that the vineyard was formed through a combination of inspiration and insanity. It produces Riesling, a German variety and Pinot Noir, originally from France.

Another Colombian wine agglomeration brings together 70 families from 16 communities in the Consorcio del sol de Oro, which together has more than 250,000 plantings, where European specifications are followed to produce Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvingon and Sauvingon Blanc wines, exported to Bogotá (the undisputed gastronomical capital of Colombia), as well as Europe.

Venezuela

A trip through all the wine-producers of South American would be remiss in not mentioning, Venezuela, which the uninformed might also assume is too close to the equator to be able to grow wine grapes. Again, altitude is the answer, and the favorable conditions include a grater-than-30 degree daily fluctuation in temperature and good soil drainage.

The area produces two harvests per year, in September and March. Bodegas Pomar, a subsidiary of the conglomerate Polar, which produces beer and other foodstuffs in Venezuela, has spent $20 million to help develop the Venezuelan wine industry in the last ten years, and represents a hefty chunk of the Venezuelan wine market.

Bodegas Pomar grows six varieties of red grapes and five of white grapes, with hopes to expand the market, to which tourism is essential, because though wine-drinking is increasing in Venezuela, hard alcohol is more commonly drunk.

Plan your own trip

South America has wine tasting for every budget, and in many nations. If a multi-day trip to the vineyards is not in the cards, consider a day trip. Or check out events surrounding the vendimia (wine harvest) or other wine tasting events held in cities and near vineyards.

Another option is to contact local wine and liquor stores or restaurants to see if they can host a wine tasting, and if all else fails, pack a corkscrew among your (packed) baggage, and be sure to (carefully) pack some wine for the way back home. Add some cheese, crackers, fruit or a nice meal and you can find the perfect maridaje (pairing) for your libations.

Read about author Eileen Smith and check out her other BootsnAll articles.

Photo credits:
Wine glass by Alan Heitz on Flickr, Argentina by Altos Las Hormigas, Chile by Santa Ema, Winery on horseback from San Pedro in Chile, Brazil by wines at Peterlongo, Tasting menu by bearshapedsphere on Flickr

Mate: Drink up the Culture – Buenos Aires, Argentina

The entire city of Buenos Aires seems to drink mate. Families lounging on blankets pass it around in parks. Friends sitting on benches sip it while chatting. Beach-goers break out mate tote bags. Some devotees even juggle thermoses while biking or lug around special mate backpacks. My professors sipped it in class, and students gulped it while cramming at the university library. Argentines even use the verb matear, meaning “to share mate.”

The cosmopolitan capital heavy with European influences brings to mind wistful Tango, elegant cafes and plastic surgery, but the ritual consumption of an ancient indigenous brew is perhaps its defining characteristic.

Mate (mah-tay), the beloved national drink of Argentina, transcends all borders. Dreadlocked, hemp-wearing types in plazas and suit-wearing, briefcase-toting types in offices both slurp the infusion. Packs of flirting teens with mullets and piercings take turns downing it, as do circles of chuckling grandparents with furs and pipes.

Some studies have reportedly found that 90 percent of Argentine households consume the beverage, making it profoundly more pervasive than any coffee or tea predilections stateside. Many fuel stations and restaurants offer customers hot water specifically to prepare their mate. The city’s many heladerias even deliver mate-flavored ice cream on motorbikes.

At first I feared joining in to sip the hot mixture, which drinkers pass around and share from a communal straw. It looked like murky lawn water, and I have germaphobe tendencies. But after trying the earthy liquid I wanted to pick up a package of Cruz de Malta and buy my own equipment. I asked my Argentine friends to teach me how to make it — They all demonstrated differing variations of the procedure.

I soon became obsessed with the mate ritual, preparing it myself for study sessions and serving it to houseguests. I imagined the refreshing drink contained an army of antioxidants and left me glowing. Many enthusiasts claim mate gives them the boost of coffee without the jitters. I found an overload of the caffeinated beverage to be my only means of surviving the all-night Buenos Aires weekend scene.

Mate, popular in various regions of South America, is made from dry yerba leaves resembling powdery grass that are steeped in hot water. It tastes like bitter tea, especially the green variety. People often add sugar. Some mothers even serve it to their children with milk or juice. Countless variations and brands of mate yerba (pronounced zsheer-buh by Argentines) tower the shelves of grocery stores, touting the drink’s supposed health, energy and weight loss benefits.

A special gourd container, also called a mate, holds the beverage. Many stores sell ornate mates, often embellished with silver. Every Argentine I met owned a well-used mate that they never washed in order to protect the flavor. In Iguazu, I bought a leather-covered mate made from a wood that only grows in the surrounding rainforest (or so said the owner of the shop off the red-orange dirt road). I cured my mate before using it like all my Argentine friends insisted. That involved scraping it, soaking it in yerba water for 24 hours and leaving it out to dry.

Mate drinkers sip through a straw called a bombilla (bom-bee-zshuh), usually silver or the cheaper Alpaca. The small holes and sieve in the bulbous end of the bombilla filter the yerba from the water. First-time drinkers must resist the urge to stir the bombilla and instead let the mixture float to prevent particles from clogging the straw.

Mate is more than a social pastime – some Argentines consider mate preparation and service an art with all sorts of rules. Making mate involves a controversial process involving shaking, piling, and arranging the yerba before pouring in cold then hot water and packing and tapping. The water must never be boiling, or it will scald the yerba. The person serving the mate, the cebador, must drink the first cup, which is the most bitter. After washing it down, the cebador then refills the mate cup with fresh hot water and passes it to the next recipient, who also drains the cup until the straw makes a slurping sound (this isn’t rude). Everyone continues taking turns, handing the mate back with the straw facing the cebador for the next person’s refill until the mate is lavado, meaning it’s lost its flavor. All the sharing lends an intimate element to the proceedings.

I constantly served mate with my Peruvian roommates. We heated water in a kettle on our gas stove and sat it on a coaster in the floor of our unfurnished apartment in Barrio Norte. We’d sprawl out and pass around the mate while we shared travel photos, munched galletas, listened to cumbia or watched translated episodes of Sex and the City. When it came time for me to return to the U.S. after my seven months in Argentina, I ended up hailing a taxi to the airport in a manic rush, dragging my two overstuffed suitcases. I bemoaned to the characteristically friendly taxista that I’d been kicked out of my apartment early and hadn’t finished my souvenir shopping. We chatted about my trip to Iguazu Falls, and he pulled out a photo of his family. When we drove up to the departures gate, he helped me unload my bags from the trunk. “Wait,” he said, rifling through the glove compartment to dig out a worn mate. “Take it. Remember Buenos Aires. It’s my gift.”

• Jeremy Gilley discovers why Colombia is passion
• Santa Catarina's full travel and tourism potential is still waiting to be tapped
• Samba on in!
• Falkland Islands anticipates biggest ever cruise season
• Abu Dhabi is out to boost tourism from Oman
• Getting off the beaten path in the Falkland Islands
• Travel and tourism: unity through diversity in the age of globalization
• Travel and tourism’s support for UN’s climate change thrust

• Falkland Islands anticipates biggest ever cruise season
• Jeremy Gilley discovers why Colombia is passion
• TravelMart Latin America 2009 opens in Patagonia
• Falkland Islands tourism campaign launched in UK
• The magic and mystery of Peru
• Falkland Islands: £4.2 million revenue from cruise tourism
• A clear message is needed from the industry to ensure informed travel
• Santa Catarina's full travel and tourism potential is still waiting to be tapped

Going Solo in Otranto, Italy

There I was, brochures spread out on the floor before me, propped up on elbows, poring over trips to Puglia, Italy. “When should we go?” I asked my favorite traveling companion, my husband, Steve. Then came his reply: “I’m not sure I can get away this year.”

Here’s the thing. For years I was the one who couldn’t travel - big corporate job, lots of stress, daunting workload - so as soon as I was eligible, I took early retirement. Then Steve, in a move that was completely counter-intuitive, went from a great nine-month contract as a professor to a twelve-month contract as an academic dean. Now I was the one longing to heed the call of ports unknown.

“But Steve, at my back, I hear Time’s winged-chariot. In other words, it’s time to suck the marrow, gather ye rosebuds.” Then, sheepishly, I added, “Maybe it’s time for me to go it alone.”

And that’s how it all began. In September, I was on my way to Otranto, Italy, to study at Porta d’Oriente, an Italian language school recognized by the universities for foreigners in Siena and Perugia, institutes of repute further north.

Ask any baby boomer what’s on her retirement checklist and she will tell you, travel and language acquisition. I was no different. I had been in love with la bella lingua for years and had taken adult education courses for just as long, but I needed total immersion.

After surfing the web for about thirty minutes I was sold on Otranto - as soon as I saw pictures of the charming lungomare along the Adriatic, the water that amazing cerulean blue, the sight of which suggesting ancient gods must have resided along this coast. A few emails later, I was enrolled in the school, assured an apartment would be waiting for me when I arrived, and that someone named Angelo would pick me up at the airport, drive me to Otranto, and hand over the keys to an apartment I would call home for two weeks. Dream or soon-to-be-reality?

Sure enough, after a not terrible flight to Rome (aisle seat, center section - could be worse), I connect to Brindisi and am passing through customs where I see the Porta d’Oriente sign.

“Ciao, Jean.”

“Ciao, Angelo.”

It’s working; I’m speaking Italian.

As we head out for Otranto, I try striking up a conversation with Angelo. No dice. It seems our ability to communicate hit its peak when we said hello. His English is matched by my Italian. I look outside my window and see the famed olive trees of Puglia and ancient abandoned trulli, the oddly-shaped, conical structures, once humble homes to farming families and their animals. I admire the view in silence.
When we arrive an hour later, I am relieved to see the town, as lovely as the pictures on the internet, the Castle of Otranto, standing like a barrel-chested sentry in the golden light of this September afternoon.

Angelo parks the car near the footbridge by the castle (no cars are allowed in the old town), and, hauling my bags, leads me through the meandering streets to my apartment on the Piazza del Popolo. He opens the shutters, and as I look out on the town below, I can see how well situated I will be here. The “apartment” is only a bedroom with a small kitchenette and a bathroom, but the real attraction is the roof-top terrace, with its panoramic sea view.

After Angelo leaves, I take a leisurely stroll around town. The height of the tourist season is over, but the busiest thoroughfare, Corso Garibaldi, is still bustling with people eating what appears to be sinfully creamy gelati and wandering in and out of the many shops and restaurants.

By Sunday night, I am like a kid before the first day of school. I even carefully arrange the clothes I will wear on a chair before I go to bed.

On Monday morning classes begin. Even in a total immersion environment, I know I can’t expect miracles, but the teachers appear professional and energetic, so I’m eager to start. The students this week come from Holland, Germany, Switzerland, and Poland. There is only one American, a flight attendant who speaks Southern Californian, but her Italian is pretty good.

I am in the basic class, which is small. There are Elizabeth from Switzerland, Manuella from Germany (both near my age), and Valery from Holland, a recent college graduate who will begin her advanced degree in the fall. My teacher this first week is Stephania, who speaks slowly and clearly, a blessing for me. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Near the end of the week, I decide that language acquisition travel is the way to go. Not only am I learning to speak Italian more confidently, I am learning the history of a culture little known to Americans. I have Barbara Dimitri, the young founder of the school, to thank for this. Wearing many hats, she also leads the tours, sharing her knowledge of the region, which, it turns out, is encyclopedic.

The tours, offered two or three times a week, take place in the afternoons after class. Some are free and last a few hours, others are five or six hours and cost 35 Euros, transportation and guide included. During my stay, the longer tours include an olive mill and winery; Greek Salento; Lecce, the “Florence of the South”; and the South Coast. In addition, there are tours of Otranto’s historical center and Barbara’s seminar on Tarantismo, about the “pinch” (pizzica) or bite of the tarantula, related to the traditional dance of the South, the Tarantella. I go to everything.

One of my favorite tours is to Greek Salento. On the way, I learn the old Greek dialect is still spoken in these nine towns where the heritage goes back to the 8th century, BC. Barbara explains (in Italian - I have to ask for clarification at times) that Salento has long been the door to the East in this most southeastern of Italy’s regions. Another tour not to be missed is to the South Coast, where, leaving Otranto, the shoreline turns to high cliffs. The Adriatic here is a deep dark blue, often erupting into frothy white caps, sending waves slamming onto the craggy rocks above.

At the end of the first week, I am tan and wearing a constant smile. In the evenings I spend hours on roof tops with classmates, eating, drinking, and laughing. On clear mornings, eating breakfast on the terrace, I can see the mountains of Albania in the distance.

All too soon, my last day of class arrives. I say a tearful good-bye to Stephania and to Barbara, who tells me she expects me to be in the advanced class one day. I give her another hug.

Saturday morning I spend shopping for gifts, finding AnimaMundi on a side street, where, seeing a book on yoga, I ask Giuseppe Conoci, the owner, if he knows where I can find a studio. I miss my regular yoga class, and as luck would have it, he is going tomorrow evening and will take me.

He picks me up with Francesca, the teacher. On the way, I learn that we are going to her family villa, where she teaches and holds retreats. The yoga studio looks like it might once have been a chapel, with its large interior and high-domed ceiling. One other student joins us for an intense practice of Ashtanga yoga. Francesca, an accomplished teacher, leads the class in Italian - I follow as best I can. She easily switches to English when she sees I need help.

After class, I am starving, so I invite Francesca and Giussepe to dinner at La Botte, a popular pizzeria. Finishing our wine, we are not quite ready for the evening to end. Francesca asks us to her place for amaro, the bittersweet after dinner drink. It turns out her “place” is the new five-star hotel, the Palazzo Papaleo, she and her husband, Mark, run. The palazzo has been in Francesca’s family for centuries. Several amari later, I realize it is getting late and that I must say good-night.

Walking home, I stop to look at the late night sky, stars still bright, but a distinct light beginning to emerge in the east. I take it all in one last time.

In the morning Angelo picks me up where he left me off two weeks earlier. On the way we have a lively conversation - in Italian. At the airport we say arrivederci. I only know the past and present tenses, so I cannot tell him in Italian that I will come back, but he knows. And so do I.

GETTING THERE: Best bet, connect through Rome. Flights generally start at $1,000. There are one hour flights on Alitalia to Bari or Brindisi ranging from $250 to $350. Trains to Otranto depart from both airports regularly. Check www.tranitalia.com for schedule and fares.

WHERE TO STUDY ITALIAN: Several Italian language schools in Otranto are recognized by the universities for foreigners in Siena and Perugia, such as Scuola Porta d’Oriente (www.porta-doriente.com/) and Italian Language School, ILS (www.ilsonline.it/).

SEEING THE SIGHTS: The language schools provide numerous excursions; tours of the area can also be arranged through independent groups, such as Salento Viaggi or Salentotime.

Don’t Miss:
Cattedrale dell’Annunziata for the mosaic tree of life covering the cathedral’s floor, open June-September, from 7 a.m.-12 p.m. and from 3 p.m.-8 p.m., Via Duomo, admission free.

Basicila di S. Pietro, a tiny 9th century Greek style church with colorful frescoes of
various biblical scenes. Open July 15th-September 15th, 10 a.m.-12p.m. and from 3:30 p.m.-8 p.m., Via S. Pietro, admission free.

The Alimini Lakes National Park, north of Otranto on the SS611, is perfect for a day trip. A venue for fishing, bathing in hot springs, and picnicking, there is the added plus of beautiful forests. Buses run daily during the summer.

WHERE TO STAY: The language schools provide apartments that are less expensive than most hotels or B&Bs.

Palazzo de Mori: A moderately priced B&B, in town and on the sea, with understated but elegant accommodations and a lovely breakfast. Daily rates from $117, higher in July and August. Tel: 39 0836 801088; www.palazzodemori.it.

Palazzo Papaleo: The new and only 5-star hotel in the center of Otranto, a gracious family-owned palace retaining its old world charm amid tasteful modern renovations. From $375. Tel: 39 0836 802108; www.hotelpalazzopapaleo.com.

Hotel Miramare: A 3-star hotel, well located across the street from one of the in town beaches, with comfortable accommodations. From $117. Tel: 39 0836 801023; www.miramareotranto.com.

WHERE TO EAT

La Botte, Via Guglielmotto d’Otranto, 39 0836 804293. A busy pizzeria/trattoria near the port where the locals eat. Great for pizza and pasta dishes. Dinner with house wine about $20 a person.

La Pignata, Corso Garibaldi, 39 0836 801284. Best for local seafood, prepared simply but well. Dinner with house wine about $50 per person.

Zia Fernanda, Via XXV Aprile, 39 0836 801884. Family-owned, casual restaurant, specializing in typical pasta and seafood dishes, frequented by locals and tourists alike. Dinner with house wine about $45 per person.

WHEN TO GO: April-mid June or September-mid October for good weather and lower prices. Months to avoid are July and August when temperatures soar and the city swells with tourists.

SPECIAL EVENTS OF INTEREST:
Festival of lamps, June 21-22, Calimera, in Greek Salento, marking the beginning of summer with fanciful and colorful paper lamps hung on overhead wires and lighting the night sky.

Festival of Saints, Peter and Paul, June 28-30, Galatina, in Greek Salento, a great opportunity to see the frantic dancing of the Tarantella to the beat of tambourines.

Festival of the Holy Martyrs, Otranto, commemorating the massacre of the venerated 800 who gave their lives during the Turkish invasion of 1480.

For additional information, go to www.comune.otranto.le.it/ to find the latest tourist information. Tip: Google Comune di Otranto and hit “translate this page” for English.

About the author:
Jean is a freelance writer with articles appearing in newspapers, magazines, and literary journals, including The Hartford Journal, Skirt!, Long Island Woman, upstreet, and The Distillery. A recent short story appears in the Spring,’09 issue of Slow Trains, on online literary journal. She lives with her husband, Steve, and black Lab, Sylvester in Greenwich CT. They spend their summers in Tyringham, MA, where Jean teaches yoga in her studio, the YogaBarn.

Photo by Paolo M?rgari on Flickr