Faraglioni di Sant'Andrea & Otranto

When Italy exaggerates

There are places that are beautiful. And then there are the Faraglioni di Sant'Andrea – where even the rock poses dramatically. These limestone giants stand in the middle of the sea like forgotten monuments to a drunken party of the gods. Shaped by wind, waves, and probably a bit of megalomania.

These rocks, shaped by wind and waves like ancient works of art, protrude from the turquoise water like the teeth of a very old, very cool sea monster. Romantics see them as gateways to the afterlife. Realists see: Instagram motifs with a slippery fall hazard.

A few kilometers south: Otranto. A city that can't decide whether it's currently ruled by Byzantines, Normans, or tourists—so it just does it all at once. Medieval walls, a cathedral with a mosaic floor that looks like the Wikipedia article on "everything the Vatican has ever banned," and a harbor where you tacitly understand why pirates never left.

In short: Faraglioni and Otranto are like an Italian Western without guns – but with lots of sun, history, and the constant feeling that you're not eating enough ice cream.