Bari

In 1087 sailors from Bari carried the bones of St Nicholas home from Myra in Asia Minor, and this church was raised for them. He is the saint behind Santa Claus, so Orthodox pilgrims fill the crypt, which keeps an altar for Orthodox services.

In a narrow lane between the castle and San Nicola, women set boards outside their front doors and shape orecchiette with a thumb. Come in the morning to watch the hands at work; dried pasta is sold in bags. Asking before you photograph is the courtesy.

Frederick II rebuilt the Norman fort in the 13th century, and a moat still rings it on every side except the sea. Inside, a room of plaster casts gathers carvings from churches across Apulia in one place. You enter over a bridge across the moat.

Bari's bishop's seat, in a Romanesque plainer than San Nicola's. Steps beneath the nave lead down to the excavated mosaic floor of the church that stood here first. Carved monsters ring the round window on the front.

On the quay at the old town's eastern tip, fishermen open sea urchins, raw octopus and clams on the spot. You eat standing, with lemon and a bottle of beer, the Bari way. Sunday morning is busiest; a stormy sea means no fishing and so no stalls.

A seafront promenade running some kilometres south of the old town, lined with lamp posts and a low stone parapet. Government buildings from the 1920s and 1930s stand facing the water. Most of the strollers turn out around sunset.

Once among Italy's largest opera houses, it burned down to the roof in a 1991 arson attack. It stood empty for 18 years and raised its curtain again only in 2009. On some days without a performance, guided visits run in the daytime.

A cliff-top village reached from Bari in a little over thirty minutes on a southbound train, with Lama Monachile, a pebble cove, wedged in the rock below it. On summer weekends the cove has no room to stand, so a weekday morning is wiser.

Trulli, houses of dry-laid stone under cone roofs, cover a whole hillside. The Monti quarter, full of shops, gets crowded, while Aia Piccola across the road is quiet, its trulli still lived in. From Bari the train needs roughly ninety minutes.

Frederick II's octagonal castle on a hilltop, its eight towers octagons as well. It appears on the back of Italy's 1-cent coin. Public transport barely reaches it; drivers park below and take a shuttle or walk up.

A broad square at Bari Vecchia's southern tip; a big clock hangs on the old nobles' council house. The stone pillar in one corner, guarded by a crouching lion, is the Column of Justice, where debtors were tied and shamed. In the evening bar tables fill it.

The city's sandy beach, a walk south along the seafront and free to all. The name recalls the bread and tomatoes people once packed for a day out. On summer evenings Baresi come straight from work to swim, so locals outnumber visitors.

Half an hour down the coast from Bari by train, blue wooden fishing boats bob in the old port. A path traces the sea walls to the castle built under Charles V. In the cathedral hangs an icon of Mary that legend says floated in on a raft.

Take the train north to Trani and a white-stone Romanesque cathedral stands alone on an open seafront. The bell tower rests on an arch you can walk beneath. Its 12th-century bronze doors have been moved indoors, out of the salt wind.

Limestone caves first explored in 1938. Tours start in the Grave, a vast pit with sunlight pouring in. The long route ends in the White Cave, crusted with pale stalactites. Visits are guided at fixed times, and it is chilly below even in midsummer.

Known as the White City for the lime-washed houses covering its hill above the olive groves. Trains from Bari take roughly an hour; a bus climbs from the station up into the old town. The cathedral at the top has a large rose window in its front.