Mission accomplished!

We did it. After over 3000 miles of driving we have made it to Lecce, capital city of Puglia, which is the "heel" of the "boot" of Italy. And very nice it is too.

As you drive south the climate gets steadily drier, the countryside gets dustier, and the roads feature less angry men driving 10 tonne trucks. Then you get to Lecce, where the first impression is that it's kinda run-down. Lots of pot-holes, graffitti, cars out of the 80's, the full range of human degredation. But once you have checked into your B&B (bed, air-con, fridge, yay) and taken a stroll into the historic heart of the city it starts to work it's charm upon you...

• Endless ancient alleys and side streets, that don't look like they were designed for carts to get down, never mind cars (who thinks that stops the Italians?). Perfect for getting happily lost in.
• One of the best meals of the year out so far - home-made pasta, tender meat, loads of chick-peas (local speciality), washed down with the local wine Negromare. Very, very drinkable.
• More beautiful old churches than you can shake a Catholically inclined stick at.
• Ice cream worth selling family members for. [Martin rant begin] "Why is it that in Italy every local cornershop can produce ice-cream good enough to make you weep, then only charge you about 27p for it? Why can't we do this in Britain? How hard can it be? It's not like the milk comes out the cow any different just because you say "ciao bella" to it. [Martin rant end]

Today we have also visited a local beach. Well, local-ish. The local beach had a 6 mile queue heading to it from one direction, and a policeman closing down the other way in. Important point: If you see a cop closing off a road, and you see an Italian car pulling out into the oncoming carriageway to get round the blockage, this trick only works for you if you time it for when the cop's back is turned. Much Italian shouting and a hasty 3-point turn later and it was time to find a new beach.

Having finally found a beach, a parking spot, and a spare 20cm of sand, we went for a brief swim, we came out and err, we left again. Just too damn hot and crowded. We think Australia may have spoilt us a bit for beaches.

Tonight we are off into the old city again for food and the cup final. Altogether now: "Yo Soy Espanol, Espanol, Espanol" and repeat.

Having driven all this way, what next? We drive back again of course. So that's tomorrow taken care of. We really wish we had more time here, but Genoa, old friends and a vat of olive oil are calling to us.