''Everybody talks about the south of Italy as if it were Africa,'' he said.

Instead, what they found was, he says, ''charming'' -- towns filled with the cone-shaped houses called trulli, centuries-old fortified farmhouses-turned-inns called masseria.

''The countryside was beautiful. Everything about it was interesting and different. The food was spectacular,'' he said.

``It really clicked. Everyone was intrigued.''

VALLEY OF TRULLI

Ah yes, the food. Hang on; the fava beans drenched in local olive oil and ricotta topped with pickled celery are on their way.

For now, we'll drive through the Valle d'Istria. Just up the hill from Fasano you spot your first trullo, a squat whitewashed house topped with a magician's cone fashioned from gray stone. Suddenly the hill is blanketed with them: Vacation homes with neat tight yards give way to multi-coned farmhouses in sprawling fields of olives and almonds. If the trulli remind you of the Anatolia region of Turkey, there's good reason: the oldest of them were built by Anatolian tribes millennia before the age of Christ was born.

''Trulli Central'' is the town of Alberobello, a hilly 15th century village where rows of pointy ''townhouses'' -- 1,000 in all -- sit hip-to-elbow up slopes and sharp ridges. Some of the dark cones are painted with curves and arrows; their meaning is a mystery until we find a shop whose owner graciously gives us his last printed legend. Some signs are pre-Christian, symbolizing a holy tree that connects hell, earth and heaven, or a prayer sent up from the earthy world to the gods. Others date from more recent times: the Greek letter Omega that means ''God,'' the trident representing trinity.

The picturesque town seems so perfect that it might have sprung from a pop-up book -- and, accordingly, Alberobello is Puglia's most touristy spot. Many of the feet-thick walled houses have been converted to tea houses and souvenir shops, though many of the goods sold transcend tea towels and postcards. If you're looking for local weavings, olive oils and whimsical ceramic whistles that are a regional signature, Alberobello is the place.

But let's drive on, to the whitewashed hilltop of Ostuni, a maze of eateries and nightspots twisting above the Gothic-Romanesque cathedral; the seaside sweetness of Polignare, its historic clifftop plaza balanced on cliffs above the watercolor ocean; the sophisticated fishing town of Trani, its stone port ringed by eateries; the walled medieval port of Otranto, famous for its cathedral's intricate mosaic floor; the ceramics center of Grottaglie, where clay has become a fantastic artform.

BAROQUE EXCESS

And then, the baroque excesses of Lecce and it's neighbor, Galatina.

A 2,000-year-old Roman amphitheater sits squarely in the center of Lecce's historic district, and if you don't have the sense to get out of your car, you may make the mistake of thinking you've seen it all. The parking ticket is well worth it. The poetry of this place lies in the narrow pedestrian streets hiding palaces, churches, more Roman leftovers. The more you wander, the more you are wooed.

The most jaw-dropping is the pale stone facade of Basilica di Santa Croce, a spectacle of twisted columns, floral wreaths, men and beasts carrying the world on their backs; it's no wonder the church was 100 years in the making.

But Lecce isn't merely a testament to the power of the King of Naples -- who annexed Lecce in the 1500s and poured in the cash in his struggle against the Turks. A college town of nearly 100,000 and cosmo crossroads of immigrants from Turkey and Africa, Lecce pulses with local life. In early evening, the streets are mobbed with students, buskers, elderly couples, families whose children bat the bubbles spewed by a mechanical bear -- all out for a stroll, and, even on cold nights, ice cream. The crowd at the gelato shop behind the amphitheater is always four deep.

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