A really interesting day, with beautiful sites and landscapes all along the roads.
Tomorrow we're heading to Masada, a historic high point where a group of Jews rebelling against the Roman Empire took the site from the Roman garrison in 66 AD.
Nice trip between Tiberias and Masada! Route 90, I presume?
After a pretty disastrous weather-wise trip to Gran Canaria, we’re hoping this time the sun will shine in Puglia.
It’s not a sure thing, though—the weather’s been awful all over Europe in early May.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.
For those who’d like to (re)read the story without the digressions, it’s here.
Saturday, May 16: This time we’re flying out of Charleroi (Brussels South): the ticket prices, flight times, and proximity all worked for us. The airport (Ryanair) was recently renovated... but it’s still not very well organized. There are hardly any seats in the boarding areas, and... the restrooms cost money!!! The flight goes smoothly, though, and we land in Bari a little late.
We quickly pick up our rental car, a very local-looking Pandina (even more so than the Fiat 500 in this region), and hit the Italian roads... and their unique driving quirks (like the fact that the countless road signs along the streets and in towns are purely decorative 😏, and that Italian cars don’t have turn signals 😮... except for rental cars).
About an hour later, we arrive at our first accommodation, right in the middle of the countryside near Monopoli. The owner isn’t there, but they’ve left us a ton of info via messages and even turned on the space heater, which is a nice touch. We explore the property:

And the next morning before breakfast, its immediate surroundings:


Sunday, May 17: After our "seaside" experience in Gran Canaria last weekend (packed with people and locals), we decide to start inland. After a hearty breakfast,

we head toward Alberobello, a super touristy village famous for its trulli—those stone houses with conical roofs. We easily find a free parking spot on a street near the Aia Piccola district, where some trulli are still lived in year-round.


We almost immediately come across the Trullo Sovrano (the only two-story one), which you can visit (but we skip it—it’s opening time, and there’s already a line).

From there, we head down toward the Basilica of Cosma e Damiano... but we don’t go in because there’s a mass.

Now we’re on the main Piazza del Popolo, which connects the two districts of Alberobello: Rione Aia Piccola and Rione Monti, the more touristy one.






We take our time exploring this extraordinary site, which Herod managed to supply with water, thanks to the work of many slaves, and where a few hundred Jews resisted the Roman troops after defeating the Roman garrison. This makes Masada a symbolic place for the Jewish people.
A model displayed on the plateau gives a great overview of the fortress.










To the west, there are very significant baths, with the entire underfloor heating system still intact.







We then head back to Ein Gedi to refuel and reach the Ein Gedi kibbutz where our hotel is located. Unfortunately, the gas station indicated on our map no longer exists—the site, which included a spa and restaurant, was closed due to risk of collapse.
We arrive at the hotel on fumes and ask them to help us out, as the nearest pump is in Ein Bokek, 30 km away, which we definitely can’t reach. There’s a pump in the kibbutz, but no one seems willing to assist us. The reception sends us (on foot) to the checkpoint 700 meters away. The checkpoint sends us back to reception... On the way back, a taxi takes pity on me, stops, and kindly gives me 10 liters of fuel, which allows us to make it to Ein Bokek. The hotel staff’s attitude was very unfriendly (the manager even suggested we call our travel insurance to send a taxi from Ein Bokek with a jerrycan of gas!!) and there was a complete lack of cooperation from the staff.
Fortunately, the rooms are spotless, with a breathtaking view of the rugged valley behind the hotel.
We dine at the hotel’s restaurant, which is a buffet. The dishes are half-cold, the chicken thighs are dry, probably reheated from the day before, and the sautéed potatoes are hard and cold. It’s also a real struggle to get a drink. The food is left uncovered, and everyone serves themselves with no regard for basic hygiene rules. It seems to suit the groups who pile their plates high, but this is low-quality cafeteria food. At 160 shekels per person, we wouldn’t recommend it.
A great day marked by the remarkable visit to Beit Shean.
Zero points for the welcome at Ein Gedi kibbutz and the value for money at its cafeteria..





Since Muslims still consider this room a sanctuary and Jews venerate King David’s tomb here, there’s significant interfaith tension around this site.
Miracles are said to have occurred in this room, with pilgrims suddenly speaking languages they didn’t know before. For this reason, some visitors lie on the ground and pray to experience the same miracle.



















































The two most stunning are the central mosaic


































































Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.


Why this country?
After visiting Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, and Poland in recent years, I’ve fallen in love with Eastern European countries. I adore the Slavic soul, its Austro-Hungarian villages, the gentle landscapes, the Carpathian Mountains, and that slightly mysterious atmosphere.
Slovakia evokes a certain imagination with its deep forests, medieval castles, and cobbled villages.
After seeing photos of the High Tatras—especially Lake Štrbské Pleso and Spiš Castle—I thought, "Let’s do it! We’re going!"
So, will Slovakia live up to what I imagine?
We’ll find out together.
We decided to travel as a group of six (five adults and a six-year-old child), by car (we needed two).
Here’s the day-by-day itinerary for this family trip, which started with a 3-day stay in Vienna (see the dedicated travel journal):














When it comes to the Caribbean island of Saint-Martin, it's customary to praise its coastline and dreamy beaches—and they certainly deserve it.
But in this story, I’d like to highlight other memories, aspects, and impressions for a slightly different change of scenery.
Enjoy the read—some text and, above all, lots of photos.
« Byenveni sou zile Sen Maten! » (Welcome to the island of Saint-Martin)
















Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...









