On the Adriatic coast of Abruzzo, the relationship between land and sea takes on a different rhythm.

The Trabocchi Coast is defined by its wooden fishing platforms — fragile-looking structures anchored to rocks, extending over the water on long arms. Known as trabocchi, these machines are both architectural and poetic: built to fish without sailing, designed to wait rather than pursue.

For centuries, they were tools of survival. Today, many have become places of contemplation and cuisine, where the sea is not consumed quickly but observed, respected, and tasted slowly.

This coastline remains outside the major international tourism routes, partly because it does not present itself immediately. There are no monumental cliffs, no iconic skylines. Instead, there is repetition, calm, and continuity. The sound of water against wood. The horizon stretching eastward. The sense that time moves differently here.

Dining on a trabocco is not only about seafood — though the simplicity of the dishes, often based on the day’s catch, is essential. It is about sitting above the water, feeling the structure sway almost imperceptibly, and understanding that this coast has always lived in dialogue with the sea, not in competition with it.

As part of a QuodLibet Journey, the Trabocchi Coast often comes as a revelation after the heights of the Apennines. From the mountains to the Adriatic in a single arc, the experience reveals how dramatically Italy can change within short distances — and how much remains invisible without the freedom to move beyond the obvious.