Puglia is a little-known (though recently on the rise) region of Italy taking up the heel and achilles of The Boot. This is the region my father hails from, and is peppered with hardy little towns amongst olive groves and beautiful, pristine beaches. On my last visit, I was able to visit a number of the small towns scattered about the rugged countryside.

A forlorn set of ruins in the countryside underneath an impressive evening cloud and light display.

One of the larger towns is Lecce, southeast of Brindisi in the tip of the Salento peninsula. With a population of around 100,00 people, it is a vibrant spot but doesn't overwhelm either. Filled with baroque architecture, it of course has a number of lovely churches but also boasts a small castle and a Roman Ampitheatre.

Lecce's castle is often simply referred to as the Castello di Lecce but more specifically Castello Carlo V. It was built in the 12th century, on orders from Charles V. It has served various purposes, from prison to military headquarters, but now is a well curated museum and architectural sight. The fairly utilitarian exterior belies a beautiful interior, which also hosts art exhibits from time to time.

While visiting, we were given the warmest welcome by two workers there. The lady (oh, how I wish I could recall the names!) gave us a personal, impromptu tour of the castle, including a special visit to the roof where evidently tourists are typically not permitted. Aside from a group of school children, we mostly had the place to ourselves, which was truly delightful.

After the Castle, we ambled into the old town, taking in the amazing baroque-style architecture strewn about the city. Apparently, kindness is not a rarity here. As I approached a church to peek through the open doors, I realized they were getting ready to close up - most likely for lunch, as it was about that time. The older gentleman kindly offered to let me in to have a look around. I'm so glad he did, as the amazing & intricate wood ceiling was absolutely worth it. I would have liked to stay longer, but did not want to abuse his kindness.

The aforementioned Roman ampitheatre is smack in the middle of town. While nothing compared to Rome's infamous Colosseo, this one seems small but still managed to seat 15,000 people. It is actually below street level, as it was only excavated in the 1930's. Even though the buildings surrounding this archeological site are far from new, they seem positively modern next to this Roman treasure from the 2nd century!

The remainder of our too-brief time in this little treasure of a town was spent simply wandering the streets. Following what intrigues you or simply strikes a chord is my absolute favorite way to soak up a place. The only thing I can think of that would improve that experience, is being in the company of a local who knows the little stories and tid-bits that add priceless context to the streets, alleyways, and buildings. Check out more snippets of this terrific place below!

I am not a morning person. As a kid, my mom (poor lady!) would have to start waking me well before I really needed to get up just to make sure I made it to school on time. Night has always been my favored time - I would get busted reading books well after I was supposed to be asleep. Even now, I'm rarely tired until at least after 1:00AM. Though now, no one scolds me for reading into the wee hours anymore.

When I'm traveling though, it's a whole new ball game. Almost instantaneously, my sleep habits shift. I go to bed (and sleep!) by 11:00 PM. Morning comes as a welcome friend to me, not something I hide from under the covers. I can't imagine being in another country, one I may not see for years more, and sleeping in. Exploring a city in the pre-dawn hours is delightful, even meditative. Everything is so hushed, the bluish light gently draping historic buildings and warrens in calm.

The legendary "Ponte dei Sospiri" just before a foggy sunrise. This part of Venice is usually near-chaotic, but was completely deserted at about 6:00AM

In Venice, where the narrow and twisting streets are packed with people even outside of peak tourist season, seeing it virtually empty was a true treat. I only saw a handful of people - a lone nun passing through Piazza San Marco, the garbage collectors with their ingenious carts trundling to the garbage boats - and the silence was pervasive yet airy. I could hear the famous pigeons slowly waking from their own sleep, the gentle lap of water against ancient palazzi, and the soft bump-thump of gondolas awaiting the day's tourists.

The best part about getting up early, especially from a photographer's viewpoint? Not having to restrict yourself to close-ups or super long exposures to get clear out the crush of people that descend by mid-morning. While people are indubitably part of what shapes a place's personality, experiencing a place in a rare time of tranquility shows a whole new side.

The Doge's Palace with the Basilica just behind it, seen from an archway in Piazza San Marco. Just me and the pigeons!

Every place I go, I am determined to rise at least two hours before the sun at least once. Twice or thrice is even better! For me, it is a perfect way to create travel art, and it makes me feel so calm and happy. Once the sun is rising in the sky and the people are bustling around, I can sit in a small cafe with coffee and a pastry and ride that feeling for a while. It's a beautiful few hours that are inevitably one of the absolute highlights of any trip I've taken. Then I get to go back to my bed and catch a pre-lunch nap!

Florence's Ponte Vecchio over the Arno River just after dawn. The other advantage to getting up super-early is that you can really give the light time to develop without feeling rushed.

Dawn breaks along the Amalfi Coast, viewed from the hamlet of Praiano. Crowds were not necessarily a concern here (though in Amalfi they were in abundance!), seeing this subtle sunrise's unique colors and light was absolutely worth rising early!

Travel photography is undoubtedly my first photographic love. Capturing a sense of place, both in sweeping vistas and small details, is a delectable challenge to me. The one part I've always struggled with, though, is people. I never seem to know quite what to say, or how to approach. I don't want to seem disingenuous or make the person feel like a cheap commodity. The last thing I want to do is make them feel like they have a stalker!

Sometimes people are more receptive than you expect, such was the case when I was in Rome several years (too many!) ago. The morning market at the Campo dei Fiori provides a wealth of colors, shapes, textures, and patterns to indulge in. The energy is great, and completely worth getting up at 5AM to make it as the vendors set up their stalls. We arrived just as their day was beginning, and moments later an energetic young lady with a mop of blonde curls spilling from under her helmet pulled up to one group on her little scooter. She had brought a hearty dose of morning caffeine for everyone, along with a brilliant smile. She did speak some English, which along with my modest Italian, meant we could chat a little. She was a bit camera shy at first, but the rest of the group didn't seem to care much one way or the other. I snapped away a bit, then wished them a good day and got out of their hair.

Shot with my Canon 40D and the Tamron 28-75mm f/2.8 lens. ISO 400, f/2.8 @1/100 (L) and f/3.5 @ 1/80 (R)

Feeling encouraged, I continued to shoot around the area. Some images were in the more traditional travel vein, others focusing on the terrific array of fruits and vegetables. I don't recall seeing any other photographers there, and since no one seemed bothered by me being there, I was able to get some great day-in-the-life type images as a result.

Canon 40D with Canon 70-200mm f/4IS lens for most of these images, some with Tamron 28-75 f/2.8

My newly found confidence would be tested later in the trip, but I'll get there in just a moment. Sometimes I find myself frustrated by the times people do notice me when I'm hoping for just the opposite. It ruins the moment I was trying to catch, and leaves me feeling dejected regardless of whether their response is encouraging or not. One instance where I do feel this worked quite well is in the following image of a gaggle of Nonne (Grandmothers) waiting for the bus (I assume) near the Pantheon area of Rome.

Canon 40D, 48mm, ISO 400, f/4 @1/60th sec.

This is one of my favorite travel images ever, at least personally. The first couple of frames they didn't notice me, as they were chatting amongst themselves and I was a decent distance away. But once they did, they lady on the right turned away. Her two friends on the bench seems amused, the other two in the chairs completely indifferent. I love the various responses they each had once I was noticed (caught?). This was the last frame I took of them, because even though only one seemed bothered by it, I wanted to at least respect her very obvious desire to not be photographed.

Which brings my to my final thought, the image and moment that I still find myself thinking about 4 years later. In a larger city, it seems people are less bothered by photographers. I imagine that being overrun with tourists snapping away on a pretty regular basis is likely part of that - they kind of become white noise and you aren't noticed as readily. This may just apply to a place like Rome or even Europe in general - I still have to see if that theory bears out in other countries.

Once in Puglia, my father's home region in southern Italy, the vast majority towns are quite small - they can often be walked in just a few scant hours. This also means that for the most part, there are far fewer tourists clicking around with the cameras. You can't really blend into a crowd when it consists of you, an old bike, and a sleepy dog in the middle of the street (true story!).

He did not move for the car, but rest assured the driver simply went around                                       him. Once it passed, he laid his head back down to continue dozing.

I noticed a man working on tambourines and other small wood items in his shop across the street. Some items were hung from the ceiling, and he had this great grizzled black beard. It was very much something you'd see in a travel magazine about small towns in southern Italy! I wanted to capture the doorway and atmosphere surrounding the shop, as well as the artisan at work. Naturally, he noticed me pretty quickly. Even from across the street, it looked like he was scowling at me. Determined not to be "chicken", I crossed the street and tentatively entered his workshop.

I asked him some questions about his work, and looked around a bit. I did my very best to get all my Italian right, but nerves tend to cause problems with that, so I may very well have gotten some key things wrong. It was definitely that vibe you get from some folks in small places - that "we don't like outsiders" sense of suspicion about you. That very well could be entirely my fault, so I hold no grudge and am not trying to fault the man at all.

I asked if I could  please take a photo of him in his shop, and while some was lost in the translation, it was definitely a resounding "No." I think he said something referencing the photos I took from across the street, which had made him uncomfortable in some way. I felt bad, and definitely disappointed. While for some approaching a stranger and asking to take their photo may be something that is second nature, it is difficult for me even now. It was a little like asking the mysterious new guy at school to hang out and getting a vaguely annoyed nu-uh for your trouble.

I've included the photo below for reference, not for any artistic merit. It's really a throw-away shot, especially now. The light was all wrong for what I wanted to achieve, and the angle of view poor, and I think the focus was off a bit too. Even if the light and my position had been perfect, I still couldn't use it because of his response. I've blurred out his face, because even though he will likely never, ever see this blog, I still will respect his wish to not be part of what I do.

How do you handle photographing strangers? Do you have any similar tales good or bad? It'd be great for anyone to share stories about your experiences or tips in this area!