Similarly to the Porto Selvaggio photo story, this doesn’t classify as one. And yet here we are.

My memories of Otranto go back to a time that feels special. It was a time of carefreeness and large groups of family friends.

My brother and I were around 8 year old.

Our family would drive to the beaches in Frassanito, where pine groves grow right by the sea.

With the trees offering cool spots for resting from the harsh August’s sun, I remember large families, with kids of pretty much the same age, chilling and enjoying the long awaited summer holidays. 

For the adults, there was always food, chilled house rosé on ice, and someone with an armonica or a guitar that would kick off rounds of improv singing. While we kids would run around the cabins in the lido, playing games, making sure each day was the most fun we could possibly get.  

It’s the early 90s and we were too busy being kids for noticing a unique spot that lied very close to our beach.

It took me almost 30 years to visit the Bauxite cave in Otranto for the first time.

It’s a neglected cave used between 1940 and 1976. It took a few more years to get completely abandoned and nature reclaimed it to its original state. 

Now it’s a relatively hidden gem for people who love to hike and enjoy the outdoors. The collision between bright, emerald water against an earthy red backdrop of rocks makes it an arresting view, that unfolds after a narrow trail amongst wild Macchia Mediterranea.

The soil has this particular hue of vibrant red due to Bauxite – main element for Aluminum composition.

Most days, it isn’t crowded and it offers a rather peaceful atmosphere. Distanced from the buzzing Otranto’s centre, one can find examples of nature growing wild, healthy and unspoiled. Colours and smells feel intact and primitive here. They're like a hug from nature itself.

Similarly to many other places in Salento, the only way to get here is to drive to it. It’s off the main Litoranea road – our favourite drive that goes from Otranto over to Badisco, through Torre Sant’Emiliano. 

I now feel that I’m making up for the three decades in which I’ve neglected its existence, everytime I’m around the Adriatic coast, I have to stop by. Il Faro della Palascia first, then here.