Monopoli: I was in a movie. A real one. And for a few days, I was Italian.
For a few days, Monopoli wasn’t a city—it was a rhythm. Food as an excuse, people who take you in naturally, little streets that make you slow down, and that rare feeling that you’re not just a tourist. A place that doesn’t reveal itself right away, but if you leave it alone, it sticks to you—and you don’t leave the same way.