In the heart of the Grecìa Salentina set a small village, Zollino, which is named as terra di mezzo.
In the middle of Salento you have the choice to focused on the Salento’s sky to scrutinize the winds when you wake up, to decide to breathe the smell of the sea in the gray autumn Sundays such as in the hot summer days, choosing between the intense blue water of the Adriatic Sea or the crystalline ones of the Ionian Sea.
The ideal distance between Otranto and Gallipoli, between East and West, between sunrise and sunset. A perfect conjuncture, the point of the compass that, rotating at 360° allows to follow the sun from its awakening to its decline.
The Salento di mezzo is a privileged land in which you can smell the sea from the terraces of the old houses and imagine it or choose to really smell it.
You can see the soft dawn colors of Otranto, from Palacìa, the easternmost point of Italy and the harsh sunset colors of Gallipoli, where the golden sea welcomes and cradles the thoughts of the evening; or you can choose to walk the horizon line step by step, imagining yourself walking on the border that separates the earth from the sea.
Walking along the coast from Roca to Otranto, descending towards Santa Maria di Leuca, go up the western border slightly until you reach Torre Lapillo, say goodbye to the sun, which has been its faithful travel companion and thank this land that never abandons its travelers, always showing them the way to go home and find themselves again.
In the Salento di mezzo the unfathomable elements of the genius loci create strong contrasts between nature and vision, between earth, sky and sea, between mind and interiority, immediately returning a form of its soul, its values, its heritage of memories and that of hope, jealously guarded by his people.
You must meet the Salento di mezzo, sit down to admire, stop to listen, express thoughts in freedom, hearing singing and singing, seeing dancing and dancing, smelling flavors and eating products that ancient and usual hands still make equal, communicating and then telling. Because the story of Salento is new and always the same, both handed down and venerated.