Day 12: Saturday, 21 May 1983

Start: Campground, north of Brindisi, Italy

End: On the beach, near Margherita, Italy

We pulled out of the campground fairly early and headed north with a strong tailwind, our first of the journey. Banged out 82 kilometers into Bari with no problem, although the roads are more crowded with cars and trucks. Stopped for lunch and a few quick chores. A helpful guy, admiring our bikes, gave me a so-so road map.

I wanted to continue taking advantage of the tailwind, so we got back on the road relatively fast. It didn't take long, however, before Mike wanted to stop for the day. I don't get it. There's nothing here but an undistinguished-looking campground, and we have a nice tailwind with hours of daylight to go. This is the time to eat up some miles. We stop and sit by the side of the road and try to work it out. Mike remains adamant that we shouldn't ride any farther, and we shouldn't pull any long days in the saddle. I can't agree.

In the end, we decide to go our separate ways. We settle financial accounts, divvy up our few shared possessions, and talk about a rendezvous at the youth hostel in Genoa in mid-June. Although we're not separating on the best of terms, this is not a big fight or a big deal. We each have our own gear, so we're completely self-contained. We have our own routes and paces, and we can take care of ourselves. 

Mike's done for the day. I saddle up. We wave goodbye to each other, and I'm back on the road.

The wind is my friend as I speed up the coast. North of Barletta, the road forks. I can either stick to the coast and take a longer route around the Gargano peninsula -- the protruding "spur" of the Italian boot -- or I can cut inland to avoid the extra miles and then pick up the coast again north of the peninsula. I decide to ride the inland route.

In Trinitapoli I stop for a terrific dinner and a glass of wine. Very cheap. I think the Brindisi campground and restaurant must have been the thieves and bandits we were warned about. While eating, an octogenarian with a bottle of red strikes up a conversation, or at least as much as our language skills allow. He sees that I'm travelling by bike and enthusiastically assures me I should not miss the spectacular Gargano peninsula and Monte Sant'Angelo. A beautiful, easy ride.

Sounds good, so I backtrack a few miles to pick up the coast road again and head toward the peninsula.

This seems to be a very deserted stretch of coast. The sun is setting but no sign of a campground, and my map is no help. When it becomes too dark to ride, I pull off the road, lug Bob the Bike through some pine trees, and find a line of sand dunes along the beach. Perfect! The sky has been clear all day, so I'll skip the tent and crawl into my bag.

Conditions 

Distance: 160 km 

Weather: Hot, but a good tailwind 

Road: Okay 

Traffic: Busy 

Terrain: Flat 

Mechanical: Toe clip still broken 

Physical: Good