Inside the stunning Italian town that you can stay at for just £42pp a night

SOUTHERN Italy’s Puglia is having its moment in the sun with its small cone-shaped houses – known as trulli – attracting visitors from far and wide.

The UNESCO-protected town of Alberobello has the greatest concentration, with more than 1,400 of the white-washed conical-roofed homes.

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It is here I book in for a traditional stay that costs from just £42 per person, per night.

My guide Mimmo Palmisan is owner of Trulli e Puglia trullo rentals and his family have lived in Alberobello — which means beautiful tree — for generations.

He insists that we meet at the top of the town at the church of San Antonio of Padua, instead of the foot of the hill, the usual point of arrival for tourists, with souvenir shops aplenty.

He’s also insistent that we make an early start on our walking tour before the busloads of passengers from cruise ships arrive.

I’m happy with that. Sunrise is a magical hour, when the town’s white limestone is illuminated in soft rosy light and the only chatter you hear is from the magpies.

“See how lovely the town is early morning,” sighs Mimmo, leading me into the church (or rather giant trullo, as all is conical roofed around here).

When it was built in the 1900s it provided schooling for Alberobello’s children, while their parents made a fresh start in planting almond groves.

The enterprise changed the fortunes of this impoverished community and explains the giant almond that features in the painting of Christ on the cross that hangs above the altar.

Back outside, the sun reflects off dazzling white buildings, and it’s hard not to get carried away by the town’s fairy-tale qualities.

“The worst is when people call the trulli ‘Smurf houses’,” tuts Mimmo, as we wander past Tholos wine bar, where they serve the complimentary breakfast that is included in my stay.

Perfect for sundowners

The main town is all white-cobbled lanes and trulli with tapered roofs painted with Christian symbols such as the sun, cross, and Mary’s heart, many of which now house small shops and cafes.

On the opposite hill, UNESCO has forbidden any commercial use of trulli, save for a handful of bed and breakfast accommodation.

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As we explore, Mimmo fills me in on the town’s chequered past.

Originally built in the Middle Ages as a tax-dodging secret, locals made a living by felling oak trees to supply Italy’s shipbuilding industry, while henchmen hid in the forest to deal with any unwanted snoopers.

“If the king’s tax-collectors came sniffing round, they got this,” Mimmo says, drawing a slow finger across his throat.

The conical roof was left with a small opening at its pinnacle so no taxes could be levied on an unfinished house and built ‘a secco’ (without mortar) so that they could be demolished quickly in case of royal inspection.

We enter a trullo untouched for a century where sheep were housed in an open stall next to a kitchen decorated with blackened cooking utensils and strings of garlic.

A small iron bed fits neatly into an archway and a ladder leads to the roof where, across thick wooden beams, a floor has been laid for the children to sleep on.

“Don’t worry,” jokes Mimmo. “You’re not staying here.”

Next, we poke our noses into a fancy 5H trullo (in fact two knocked together) with a plunge pool and sauna, a lavish living area furnished with Apulian antiques, and a pretty terrace, perfect for sundowners.

I strike a balance between these two in opting to stay in a newly-renovated trullo with mod cons (wifi and a decent shower) but that is simply furnished to let the honey-hued bricks do the talking.

There are flagstone floors, attractive brick arches, and a shaft of light flooding in from the top of the dome. A cosier home you’d be hard pressed to find.

In the scorching summers, these unique homes are also a haven of cool tranquility.

As the sun sets I wander through Alberobello’s lanes, now tourist-free and drenched in soft amber tones, to restaurant Trullo D’Oro for a plate of fettuccine pasta with wild boar ragu and porcini mushroom.

“Salute!” the waiter wishes me, as I raise my glass of local Verdeca wine to the joy of having this trulli lovely town to myself for a while.