Giving up wine is never the answer

We awoke yesterday morning with two strong resolutions for the day and trip ahead. Number 1: we would not sacrifice our two hour lunches for the pursuit of further kilometres. Number 2: after taking a look at our waistlines and being less than content with the marginal improvements given all the cycling we had been completing, we decided to give up wine and pasta for the rest of the week. As I write this 24 hours later I can confirm two things. One: we ended up cycling 104km straight without a lunch break as no suitable venue could be found along the deserted seaside towns. Two: following a pursuit by wild dogs which resulted in a crash early in the day that left us banged up, but not broken, our egos bruised we broke down and had a couple beers upon arrival. Clearly the wine has never been the problem and we were silly to think otherwise as nothing went this wrong when we were relaxed and enjoying the local vintages.

Rewinding it a bit - we spent 3 nights in Noci visiting nearby towns and villages on day rides. It is amazing how much easier it is to cycle and how many kilometres you can manage without pannier bags. That extra 20kgs really does weigh you down! We made our first stop on Sunday in Alberobello, a town famous for its Trulli houses. The trullis are stone huts that historically were dismantled and reassembled in new locations for the avoidance of taxation. Clearly Italy's current economic woes and history of widespread tax evasion started early. Whilst picturesque (some photos below) it was a rather tacky town catering to the cruiseship set in search of trinkets and kitch. We didn't stay long.

Our next stop was Locorotondo, another hill-top town along our route. We arrived at lunchtime so it was a bit of a ghost town but were treated to some lovely architecture and quaint alleyways in the centre of town. We have yet to experience a bad meal in Puglia however were subject to service with an attitude from a teenage boy who clearly wasn't happy with his job. He seemed to be irritating half of the restaurant and his only saving grace was the fact that the food was good. We won't mention anything more as despite this we wouldn't recommend a visit as there are plenty of other fabulous restaurants where the hospitality, as I've said before, is second to none.

We headed home that evening where we had planned to stay in and eat a light meal of mozzarella and wine but were again treated to a feast by our hosts at the B&B. An open fire in the garden produced impeccable steak and delectable wild boar completed by homemade bruschetta. Christine/Angela - the region is famous for wild donkey and horse meat - thinking of you two, you will be happy to note we didn't try either of these delicacies.

Monday we got back on the road and headed towards the baroque town of Martina Franca. It is interesting how some towns manage to maintain their authenticity in spite of tourism and Martina Franca was a pleasant surprise. A beautiful main square, quality shops, and great restaurants make this town a winner on our list. Having some admin to attend to - ie our laundry - we spent a few hours wandering the town. I managed to pick up our last haul of mozzarella, a new pair of sunglasses, and clean clothes for the road ahead. We had yet another delightful meal at La Tana trattoria. This trattoria epitomises our love of eating out in Italy. From the outside, there was nothing flash about the place, in fact we would avoided it had it not been recommended by our friends at the bar. Thankfully we went in. Simple decor but five star, yet unpretentious service. Great food, a spectacular local sparkling white, and reasonable price tag make this another winner. As always, a few photos below.

Needing to recuperate some mileage lost over the past few days we headed straight to Taranto, a large port town on the Aeonian sea. Nothing spectacular except for the abundance of Mussoliniesque architecture (which we liked), grotesque 70s disasters (which we disliked) and a quick transition from the Rodeo drive of town to East LA within a matter of blocks. There were gunshots (unsure if cap or not) and seedy characters - never have I seen the Senior Sutra walk so fast and with such fear. He knew something bad was going to happen as we passed not one but three funeral parlours on our way back and then upon our departure from town the next day, a hearse crossed our path. He thought "this is not looking good."

We made our way out of town Tuesday morning, finally on the coast and ready for a delightful day of riding ahead. Each beach more beautiful than he next. At around 11am, my father was concerned we had missed a turn towards the coastal path and decided to turn down a side road. Hence we return to the beginning of our story. There is a real issue with stray dogs all over the place in the south. I am a dog lover myself but some of these guys look pretty nasty and are afraid of he bikes so you don't know what to expect. Two dogs leaped out from a garden unexpectedly and we started to move pretty swiftly down the road but in our panic and another dog coming the other direction managed to collide at high speed and crash into a stone wall. Fortunately we had an emergency kit and bike repair kit (as handlebars were mangled at an unfortunate angle) and managed to get back on the road again for an epic ride. In the interest of good taste we won't post any of our wounds, but JD - they are worse than any pain you underwent on the Grouse Grind.

We have had no choice but to take today as a day of rest and recovery. Yet again we have lucked out and found a fabulous B&B in Gallipoli. Derek's bedroom is housed in an old chapel which he is crediting to the speed of his recovery. The sun is shining, the sea is calm, and we look forward to wandering the streets and finding some fresh fish for lunch. A photo below as a teaser of our view from the rooftop terrace at breakfast.

In tutte la Puglia se mangia bene!

After our brief sejour in Basilicata we managed to get back on track yesterday morning exploring Puglia. We set off a bit later than planned climbing the hills out of Matera en route for the burratta capitals of the province.

As I'm sure most of you are aware, we are fairly passionate, and potentially bordering on obsessive, about food . Gastronomy in all its varied facets is a source of great pleasure and we are willing to travel and endure high water and hell to get fresh local produce/seafood/cheese/anything edible. I suppose this is a characteristic I have inherited from my parents. My mother is an excellent chef and growing up we were always treated to a multicourse meal every night of the week. Whilst this meant that we often didn't eat before 9pm as my mother did have a day job, it instilled in both my brother and I an expectation of quality and homemade food as the status quo.

My parents have also always been rather eccentric when it comes to the acquisition of food. They think nothing of driving 2 hours, across the US border to get lamb racks straight from the best producer in Washington state to seeking out the best vintage of a particular California Zinfandel, even if it means acquiring it from a little wine importer in Dorset of all places and then reimporting it back to the West Coast!

Returning to the case in point, we have a particular obsession with burratta. Whilst buffala mozzarella has been a mainstay on the Italian menu globally, I first discovered burratta 3 years ago at Il Baretto restaurant in Marlyebone in London. I was confused at first at what I was tasting. The outer shell had the texture of the mozzarella I was familiar with but the creamy inside was a mystery to my taste buds. After this experience I set off to discover more about this cheese and introduced it to my father when he was in London as we discovered that Whole Foods was importing from Italy.

As it turns out, Puglia is the hot bed of burratta and a variety of mozzarella that you would never taste outside the region. There are latterias in a number of the towns, each of which produces its own burratta. It was with this in mind that we set off yesterday morning to Giola delle Colle in search of some cheese for a quick lunch.

As we arrived in town, we passed a local cyclist meandering along and to make a long story short, he took us to the best latteria in town to sample the cheese. It was here that I discovered that burratta is in fact mozzarella filled with straciatella - the soft creamy cheese that oozes out when you cut into the mozzarella exterior. I went a bit over the top in the store, expecting a hefty bill to pay. Much to my surprise my bounty of mozzarella topped out at a fraction of the cost anywhere else on earth - the goods and bill photographed below.

We ended up eating our fill of mozzarella in a piazza adjacent to a medieval castle before getting some advice from the locals for our itinerary ahead before setting out towards our next destination, Noce. As we hadn't stopped in a restaurant for lunch we made a quick pit stop at a Q8 petrol station out of town. As with much of Italy, you often find the most beautiful things in the most unexpected of places. This station had one of the most beautiful bars complete with a myriad of cocktails and pastries. We went for a couple peronis in the sun to quench our thirst post mozzarella indulgence.

Post pit-stop we made our way towards Noce where yet again we were greeted by gracious hosts at our B&B. We had planned only to stay one night but given their hospitality and the. variety of small towns in the area worth a visit we are now on our 3rd night here! 62km the first stay and a mere 30km yesterday but as always some
great food and experiences in between.

Some photos of our latest culinary adventures below in addition to a few photos of the Castellana Grotte which we visited yesterday. No photo could accurately depict the magnitude and magic of these caves over 100 meters underground and kilometres in length. It was hard to believe they were real and reminded us of Disneyland - turns out their fantasy was born out of reality.

Today we are off to see some other mountain towns and hope to get a few miles under our belts before setting off in search of our next destination tomorrow.

Across the frontier to Basilicata

Following our massive cycle yesterday, it has taken us 24 hours to recover and collect our thoughts to summarise the experiences of the past two days.

We will start with the stats: 102.3km from 9am to 7pm (inclusive of the standard 2 hour break for lunch - a few photos below). Much to my dismay, we were treated to plentiful hills and as always a bit of adversity at the end of the day when one's mental strength has been depleted and the muscles one thought unstoppable in the morning failing quickly.

We left the countryside outside Montegrosso at 9am en route to Castel del Monte, meaning literally castle on the mountain. From a distance the climb did not appear so steep or so extensive so we set off in good spirits. When you are at home planning this type of trip, you consider the hills that will besiege you but don't really digest the difficulty ahead. This despite the fact that you have experienced them before and at the time vowed never to subject yourself to that kind of torture again. How quickly the mind forgets.

Needless to say my father managed to keep his head above water, despite the fact that he was trailing me by 200 meters most of the way up. I on the other hand was in a mode of mental breakdown that seemed impossible to recover from. One of the great things about this type of cycling is that even with a traveling partner you are afforded hours upon hours of time alone with your thoughts. More often than not this is a positive thing, allowing you to reflect on the wonderful life you lead whilst taking in the scenery and plethora of new experiences. However, if you get even the slightest inkling of negativity or thoughts of regret they are compounded ten fold. I won't run you through every thought that crossed my my mind whilst grinding up a seemingly infinite climb but I regretted every extra pint I had drank after work, all the boyfriends I should never have dated, and the spinning classes I should never have missed!

Needless to say we made it to the top and were treated with some breathtaking views. We continued onwards to lunch where the trials and tribulations of the morning were all but forgotten and we enjoyed a seemingly endless selection of antipasti and as always in this part of the world exceptional hospitality and generosity.

As with any high, there is again a low to match it, just to ensure you remember that this is reality but not a dream, or as my dad says another wack on the head with a 2x4 beam. We continued on towards Matera, via la vecchia strada, the old road which was literally what it was. It was as if he pavement had been dropped from the sky. I had already had an embarrassing stationary spill off my bike at the only major intersection in town in Gravina in Puglia whereby I ended up in the splits over my bike and at that very moment two handsome young men appeared much to my dismay. My dad then proceeded to ask him if anyone had ever told him he looked like Bono (bearing in mind I have to translate this nonsense) to which he replied no, as he looked nothing like Bono (as I type my dad is insisting he was his spitting image - he wasn't).

But the best was yet to come. As we descended the hill we were treated to another truly delightful experience. Descending any hill when you are 10km from your ultimate destination is always a bad sign, as despite your hopes, there is always a hill to climb at the end. My dad had finally made his way ahead of me when two men in a tomato field started waving enthusiastically to pull over. This is one of the things guide books warn you about. Don't stop. This is a trap. My father is paranoid as it is, so god knows why he stopped but he did and thankfully this time there was no drama. You can see a photo of Franco in red below with the stoggie hanging from his mouth - I bet most of you wouldn't have stopped!

He came running toward us with a 10kg bag of tomatoes, freshly picked, urging us to fill our bags. His partner then started grabbing melons from the ground, peeling and cutting them with a pocket knife and we ended up spending half an hour with the sun setting behind us eating fresh tomatoes and melons. This was our introduction to Basilicata, the province next to Puglia that we had dropped into for a quick detour. The people here are fiercely proud of their land, their way of life, and their history yet not afraid to share it with anyone who passes through.

By this stage we were in sight of the prize, our room for the night, but worryingly so we were still 15km from our hotel (you must double any estimates you have of how far you are from your destination - things are never as straight forward as they seem). In summary we ended up on a mini freeway with multiple entrances and exits before being treated to a 5km mountain climb, in the dark, with some of our state of the art lighting failing us. Suddenly our survival instinct kicked in and the muscles coooperated whilst the brain calculated how close to the edge we could wander without falling off the side or conversely into traffic.

We arrived safely in Matera, a bit later than expected but to a great B&B, a phenomenal ancient city (panoramic photos below), some entertaining and well educated Americans, of course great food, a day of rest save for the endless stairs, and clean laundry. Another adventure to add to the collection and hopefully more tomorrow when we are back on piste towards the burrata capital of Puglia!

"We get by with a little help from our friends"

We awoke yesterday morning, primed to get on the road following what seemed like weeks of traveling and eating (well) without any exercise to compensate.  A slow start to the morning, having had to return the monsterous van to the Bari airport, we finally departed on our journey at 10:45am.  With the hot sun beating down and a vague idea of the direction we were headed in, we set off towards the Adriatic in search of the coastal path to take us up to Andria where we had arranged to stay the night.   We had only pedalled 100 yards along the road when two cars honked, waved, and cheered for us to keep pedalling onwards. I should preface this part by explaining the look of our two bikes.  My father had his welder install two flag post holders on the back of each of our paniers, from which there is a 5ft pole with some might say obnoxiously large Canadian flags flying from the top.  I only have one, but my dad has 3, just in case someone misses the first one.  He says it is so cars can see us, which clearly they can, but it has proven a conversation point throughout previous trips and, as we were about to learn, a status symbol particularly for the trip ahead.  

For the next 3 hours, without any exaggeration, at least 50 different people cheered us on, honked their horns with enthusiasm, and went out of their way to greet us and ask if we needed any directions, recommendations, or any other type of assitance.  Young children telling us what they knew about Canada, some people looking to practice their english, but most just welcoming us to their province and looking for a friendly chat.  A particular favorite moment of mine happened later in the day towards Andria, when we were stopped at a railroad crossing.  Two slick looking teenage boys on a vespa pulled up behind us and started chatting.  They asked how we were related and my father as always likes to point out he is 61 to see how many complements he can get.  The boys were impressed shouting "che giovane, incredibile" impressed at how young he looked for his vintage.  One then asked me how old I was, and when I responded 27 said "non c'e male, va bene" - i.e. you are doing ok, not too bad, but nothing that impressive!  My dad is convinced with all the attention we've been getting that someone has mistaken him for Mick Jagger.  If you want to feel like a rockstar, come to Puglia.

We stopped for lunch in Trani (Gary - no real tranis in sight), a picturesque coastal town and were treated to a phenomal seafood feast, of which you can see a few photos below.  We then headed off towards Andria where we had arranged to stop at a B&B that we had stumbled across in our research.  82.5km since our initial departure that morning we arrived but not without confusion as the place is a secret that we have since discovered is worth keeping.  There is no signage, no address, but if you are keen enough to find it you will be rewarded.  Poggio Tafuri is the home of Cristina and Giuseppe whom a year ago, upon prodding from their son, began opperating a small B&B from their family home dating back to the 1800s.  I say B&B but really it was more like arriving at your nonni's (grandparents) house after a long trip away.  We were treated to local burrata, their homemade wine, pasta, bread, and above all their incredible hospitality.  We stayed up until midnight discussing the state of affairs in Puglia and beyond, prompting us to decide there and then to stay another night.

After a quick morning run (seriously, for the amount we are eating, even a 100km of cycling a day is not enough to keep svelte!), we cycled into Andria to get a few adjustments to our bikes and then headed back to a lunch we had planned at a small restaurant in Montegrosso (middle of nowhere) which was supposed to be one of the best in Italy.  It did not disappoint. The key to the amazing meals we have had in the past 48 hours has been the local, natural, and fresh produce.  Even if you wanted to get this kind of food outside of Italy, let alone Milano, the connection to the people and land would be lost not to mention the journey itself would negatively affect the condition of the food.  The photos below do not do the food justice nor the ambience, and as it is not in good taste to cite the specific price of things in order to equate their value, all I will say is the trip to Antica Sappore is worth every mile you have to travel to arrive here.

Again, great hospitality, long chats with all the locals, and we were treated to a tour of their farm where they grow all the vegetables.  We intended to pick up after lunch for another long cycle, but decided to keep it short today, in preparation for a long journey tomorrow.  Back at "home" we lounged outside with the owners and their friends and enjoyed the tranquility of this little paradise on earth that we are privledged to have discovered.  42km only on the pedals today but far more miles away from what we expected on October 2nd, 2012!