Today is the first day of a mini-tour, following the complete Salento coast. Salento is the stiletto heel of Italy, and the southernmost division of Puglia. It begins just south of Taranto and continues for about a hundred miles to land’s end at Santa Maria di Leuca (pronounced lay-ooh-cuh, with the accent on the first syllable). We’ll take two days to reach Leuca, stopping tonight at the midpoint, Porto Cesareo; and then spend a few more days working our way back west along the Adriatic coast.
The ride from Taranto to Porto Cesareo looks easy enough - it’s almost perfectly flat, with elevations varying (according to our rather confused Garmin devices) from between 30 feet above and 30 below sea level. Glug, glug! It didn’t feel all that easy though, and took us most of the day as we biked into a strong, angling headwind most of the way.
The ride is beautiful, with continuous fine views of the coastline, sand dunes, ruined watch towers, acrobatic kite surfers, and even flamingos. Idyllic, really. As fine as the ride itself was though, the most memorable part of the day was our odd intermittent series of encounters with Maria and Jack, riding our way on their tandem on a three day mini tour of their own.
We first encountered this pair when they passed us in the dunes east of Lizzano. They slowed down and chatted a bit, enough to reveal that they’re a mixed nationality couple - she’s Italian, he’s British - on a long weekend getaway. We lose contact when I stop for a photo, but some miles down the road they re-enter our narrative when Maria walks up to our table at the restaurant we’ve stopped for lunch at in Campomarino. After biking along a steady stream of shuttered bars, cafes and restaurants, we finally stop here at the first place that offers food shelter from the ceaseless winds. They’re here for the same reason, and have already finished their own lunch when Maria stops by. Jack soon shows up, and they linger around long enough for us to have a proper introduction and visit. They’re a magnetic and inspiring young couple, and it brightens our day to have met up with them.
After lunch they bike off, and we don’t see them for another hour or more until finally overtaking them near Porto Cesareo. Rachael bikes behind them, capturing them on her GoPro, and is charmed by Maria peeling a banana and passing it forward to the captain as they bike into the wind. One of the advantages of tandems!
They had started the day planning to reach Gallipoli, still another fifteen miles along the coast; but like us they’ve had it with the wind and decide to end the day in Porto Cesareo also. We part ways at a junction on the way into town, as we head to our prebooked room and they head to the port in search of one for themselves.
Two hours later, after resting up and exploring the waterfront until sundown, we enter the restaurant we’ve chosen for the night after passing up about a dozen others we considered. There, by the wall, sit Maria and Jack again. They just keep stepping into our story. Karma!
They’re just finishing their own meal, but we sit at the table next to them and continue our conversation for the better part of an hour. We learn more of their terrific personal story, of how they met in Auckland at a House concert (he’s a troubadour, and has even performed at a house concert in Portland!) and then set off together to see the world for the next eight months. And, they’re Warm Showers hosts, on the Cilento coast! They invite us to stay with them when we pass through on our way back to Palermo, so with luck we haven’t seen the last of them in this journal.
In the meantime, you can check out Jack’s website. So stay tuned - maybe we’ll even get a music video in here before we’re done.
Leaving Taranto, we get a better view of its Aragonese Castle, illuminated by the morning light.
The road south from Taranto is seductive for the first mile as it leads you through this long colonnade. Beyond that though it devolves into a less pleasing push through about eight miles of suburbs before we finally break free of the city and it’s traffic.
After rolling along at about 100 feet above sea level ever since leaving Taranto, we finally come to our big descent of the day and drop to the Salento coast. Within another mile we’ll leave virtually all of the traffic behind and have the road to ourselves.
The Salento coast is guarded by the remains of over fifty watchtowers, mostly in ruins. Most are believed to date to the fifteenth and sixteenth century.
At Marina di Lizzano the sea is swarming with kiters. Fascinating to watch as they speed across the sea catching waves that spring them twenty feet into the air.
A great day for the kiters, but not for the sun bathers. The beaches look ready for them to descend, but are still largely empty. We hear from everyone what an unusually cold and wet spring this is.
Flamingos! These are in Salina de Monaci, a small lagoon near Torre Colimena. As we bike along, we marvel at the number of times we’ve gotten to see this bird in the last two years.
A few miles back we were passed by Jack and Maria, heading south on their tandem. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and they were off. A bit later we ran into them again at a restaurant in Campomarino, the only open restaurant for miles. We were both driven indoors by the chilling winds. This time, we enjoyed a much longer visit.
And they’re off! I assumed this was the last we’d see of Jack and Maria, but we caught up with them about twenty miles later on the outskirts of Porto Cesareo.
Torre Borraco, near Campomarino. Built in the late 1500’s, it had become badly deteriorated until it was restored to its original state about a decade ago.
This view is typical of the entire day, once we escaped the suburbs south of Taranto. Quiet, scenic, almost completely flat. Idyllic cycling, if you ignore the ever-present winds.
Porto Cesareo has a complicated shoreline, with two lagoons separated by a small peninsula. It makes for a delightful place to stroll while you’re waiting for dinner. Here, we’re looking across the south lagoon.
On the north bay, looking toward the peninsula. I love the colorful dories and small fishing boats on the bay here. I remember this from our first visit, when we just biked through without stopping on the way to Gallipoli.
Not the best bird shot, but I wanted to remember how delighted I was to see this little tern, by far the smallest I’ve ever seen. It almost looks like a miniature, not much larger than a swallow. I looked it up, and found that it has a name easy enough to remember: Little Tern.
