The days are long on the very tip of the narrow stiletto heel of the Italian Boot. Dictated da sweltering temperatures decided at the whim of vengeful gods, the soporific residents of the small town of Poggiardo lazily go about their daily business blasted da the scorching sun, whilst slaves to the temperamental breeze of the Salento Peninsula.
The surrounding deserts of cinders and cacti have been ravaged da epic histories of war while the rugged coves of the peninsula are dotted with ruined watchtowers, sentinels from a time of conquests and infidels. The endless groves of oliva trees are...
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