April 10, 2025
In Bari
I’m shocked when I look at the phone when I wake up this morning and see that it’s 8:30, and that Rachael is still out cold next to me. We’ve slept through the night the day we arrived! I can’t recall that happening since in Fontainbleu over thirty years ago, the morning after we arrived in Paris on our first tour of Europe. On that morning we were awakened at around nine when the work crew started up their jackhammers right outside our window.
A day later, I’m surprised at how little I remember about our layover day in Bari. It really blurs together with those final days in Portland, swallowed up in a classification project - this time, to reassemble the bikes and make the split between what’s going on the road and what’s being left behind in the suitcases. We’ve been doing the same thing for a long time and I’m not clear why this was so much more difficult this time ofher than the aging and health issues we’re not going to annoy or bore you by whining about anymore.
Well, there is one other reason this was so difficult this time - because it was so difficult in Portland too. Usually we leave home at least well enough organized that we’ve presorted what we plan on leaving behind in the suitcases when we get to Europe, and usually there’s much less being left behind. This time there just wasn’t time or capacity to include that in the planning, so we’re essentially starting over.
As a result we really saw very little of Bari today, even though there’s a lot to see here - especially here within a few blocks from us and virtually right outside our door. One takeaway here is that we wished we had decided to stay here for three nights, something we’ll look at doing on future arrivals. Things just take longer now. Maybe we’ll do better when we return in July and manage to at least take a photo of the castle that’s only about 100 yards away.
There are a few things to remember about the stay, but two things about our unit stick out. One is that it’s a two story affair, and even though the HVAC is easy enough to operate and does a credible job of throwing out heat, it all hangs near the cealing. As a result, the downstairs where all the work needs to happen is absolutely frigid. The day consists of forays downstairs to work on breakfast, bike assembly and sorties broken up by retreats upstairs to thaw out again.
The other is that our apartment looks more or less identical to a half dozen other house fronts or apartment units on our three block street. We didn’t take enough note of just where we were (like for example take note of the street address or take a photo of the unit when we arrived last night or left for meals. As a result we had a hard time finding it again and at one point embarrassed ourselves by trying to unlock someone else’s door.
So with all that we hardly made it out the door at all today. The first outing was for lunch, where we enjoyed an excellent meal and a chance to see what our street is famous for - the tables lining it where women sit at it with their trays, knives and dollops of colorful pasta dough, mincing it at lightning speed and assembling it into pasta before your eyes. It’s quite a sight and a wonder these women appear to have all ten fingers intact, and it draws a crowd. At the right time of day the narrow lane is totally clogged by sight seers and tour groups, with people or motor scooters just trying to get through inching their way forward.
It reminds me of my experience at the waterfront at the Hands Off! protest gathering a few days ago. It doesn’t take long for crowds to wear on both of us, and we’ve about had our fill for awhile now.
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The only other time either of us went outside today was when Rachael went to the grocery store, and when I went out nearly an hour later to rescue her. The rescue was required because neither her Garmin or map on the phone was able to track her location or navigate her accurately enough through the maze of the old city to find her way back. So finally she phoned me to help her out. She identified her location by looking around at street signs and landmarks, and I used the map to help guide her through the seven minute walk home.
Forty five minutes later it’s time for a rescue. Through an unbelieveable, endless attempts to steer her the right direction, down streets or alleys shown on the map but that she can’t find, or past ones that she sees the name of that aren’t on the map, finally I’ve succeeded on bringing her witching about a hundred yards of the door - to the small plaza where the taxi driver dropped us off last night.
On one side of the plaza is the castle I mentioned. Opposite it are two narrow
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lanes that pass through narrow arches into the old town - the lower arch and the upper arch. They’re barely fifty yards apart, but you can’t see one from the other. After several attempts to lure her in I tell her to just stay put and I’ll walk over and find her. We’ve both got phones, and it won’t take long until we either spot or can hear one another.
That works, and soon I spot her in a crowd across the street below th castle, and I tell her to look my way and spot my hand working. 45 minutes! It’s hilarious really, the funniest moment of the week. Unfortunately it’s an hour we needed, because we need to have the suitcases packed and ready to go soon before our host Claudia arrives to wheel them away.
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