Yesterday when we returned to the sosta another GB van had parked alongside. Its owners told us they were heading to Sicily, so this morning they come over and we swap information as they came down part of our route back. Soon it's like we've know Bob and Hazel much longer than this morning's chat. We have things in common like a shared outlook on the way we like to travel, shared interests in rugby and scrapbooking.
At the service point Ali is fascinated by the high tech loo cleaner. She locates the casssette behind the perspex door and watches the machine tip, shake, flush and rinse the tank before dosing it with disinfectant.
We set off towards Locrotondo and see yet more trulli but these are single [trullo] or little clusters on farms. Also, out in the countryside many are bare stone, not whitewashed. All around are olive trees, some massive 'grandees' centuries old with trunks a metre thick. These olive groves sit within stone walls in perfectly tended, smooth red soil interspersed with groups of bright red poppies.
Just after stopping in a car park to decide whether to visit Locrotondo Bob and Hazel pull alongside and taunt us that there will be no getting away now we've met.
We decide to continue to Ostuni. There is a bit of a problem finding the right car park, which involves crawling along a narrow road behind a lame man, with toots and honks from behind. By the time we park it's nearly 14:00 and we need lunch, Ali makes sandwiches.
Coming through the main square it all looked steep and steppy so given the later hour of arrival we agree not to unload the chair, but for Ali to walk back and look on her own.
Ostuni is know as 'white city' from its whitewash and white stonework. The big main square in front of the cathedral is famous for the Tarantella festival including a writhing dance of the victim of a spider bite. Beyond the square are narrow alleys leading to flowery courtyards and all the pavements are polished to a slippery shine. Inevitably Ali bumps into Bob and Hazel again. She tells them we've decided to stay at a nearby Fatorre Amico and they say they'll come too.
On the way we refuel without any dramas then arrive at Masseria Correo near Carovigno. Senora leads us into a gated field with olive trees, goats and two big golden retrievers. Around us other fields contain donkeys, horses and pigs. Chickens and guinea fowl squawk their presence too.
Soon after we're settled Hazel appears to say they've decided to backtrack as they need to stay on course for Sicily, lovely to take the time coming here to tell us and we're sure to be in touch again sometime.
Next, a load of clanging bells signals a flock of sheep being driven down the lane.
Ali buys some olive oil from the farm shop and we have a bottle of prosecco with dinner to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary.
Through the evening the sun goes down and the animals fall quiet but it don't half smell like a proper farm!