Espresso Macchiato
Matera to Bari, 18th - 19th May
Matera was an experience. The old town is entirely monochrome with everything made of limestone - after spending some time there, you forget that buildings come in other colours. I often stay in a hostel when visiting a city, and I was glad of it in Matera. I instantly had some friends to walk around with and motivate some sightseeing, and they knew where they were going - no small feat in the confusing streets. All that, and I had company watching Eurovision in the common area that night; if I'm honest, that's the real reason I booked it and it absolutely worked out. The Estonian entry, Espresso Macchiato, was an earworm that provided the soundtrack for my next couple of days (for authenticity, feel free to listen along as you read). My apologies to all the wildlife who I disturbed with my renditions.
Enjoying myself, I spent the first half of the next day in Matera as well before setting off for Bari after a late lunch. This was a bit of a a bold move as Bari was seventy kilometres away and post-lunch kilometres are more difficult than those easy morning miles, but I was optimistic about my chances. The gradient of the second half was a long downhill slope: in theory, a walk in the park. It would be easier if I gave it a whole day and I'd contemplated staying another night in Matera, but I wasn't convinced that there was really that much to do apart from admiring the scenery. Another time, I'd have happily stayed, but I was mentally already beginning to check out of Italy and I was ready for a new country. Before my week sick in Salerno, I was quite sad at the thought of leaving Italy, but after that I'd begun to feel in need of a change. I'd hoped for my ride from Benevento to Bari to be an opportunity to get back into the rhythm of living on the road, and I'm glad I took that time rather than skipping straight to Greece.
On my way to Bari, I was very conscious of the fact that it was my last rural cycling in Italy. Although I was in a hurry, I felt as though I had to appreciate it before it was gone, because it really was beautiful. I was cycling through thousands of olive trees on winding, empty roads, and there were hours when I didn't see a car. The long downhill was indeed a wonderful experience as well - a constant gentle gradient allowing me to average speeds I would never normally sustain. Still, I had to push myself to reach the city before sunset and within a reasonable delay from my original estimated arrival time that I'd told my Airbnb hosts. When I got there, exhausted, I made an attempt at a spaghetti carbonara and was thankfully rescued by the help of one of my Italian hosts who couldn't help himself but step in.
On Monday my ferry was scheduled to leave at 19:30, so I had most of a day to hang around Bari. Happily able to leave my luggage at the Airbnb, I zipped around town on my unloaded bike and took in the sights and sounds of the port town. All of a sudden, my mind was full of lasts: last supermarket in Italy, last espresso (macchiato), last pizza. The pizza was great - the cosacca from Da Michele is their best in my opinion. Cycling around Bari's neighbourhoods, I had the rare feeling that it was a city I actually wouldn't mind living in. The weather, obviously, was great, and it was metropolitan enough to have multiple Asian grociery shops including some promising kimchi to satisfy last week's frustrated craving. If that's my litmus test for livability, I think I could do worse. I'd probably get annoyed with the streets if I actually lived here, though - not a lot of safe cycling infrastructure, and cars which produce visibly black exhaust fumes.
All too soon, it was ferry time. Time to leave Italy behind, which has begun to feel a bit like home after six weeks. Food, language, culture, and landscape which I'd begun to get the hang of, about to disappear. I was sad to leave, but also satisfied with the time I'd spent. I'd had a good time and learnt a lot! I'm after breadth as well as depth on my journey though, and I'd prefer to go somewhere different and start fresh rather than get too comfortable in one place and start to plateau. The ferry was already a bit of preview, operated by Greek staff and with largely Greek passengers. My Italian suddenly became quite useless and I was back to English, and all the signs were full of funny mathematical symbols. On the plus side, my kimchi was very good. Kudos to Bari - I ate the whole jar.
As Italy faded with the sunset, I settled in for a night on the sea. Following advice from Paul, who'd taken the same ferry some two weeks earlier, I set down my sleeping bag on a large flat spot by the stairs and made myself quite at home alongside a Greek family doing the same thing. Contrary to my British expectations, this was apparently quite normal and staff walking past made absolutely no comment. I was glad for it - on a seventeen hour ferry, it's nice to have a decent night's sleep. I'd better get used to this attitude! In the morning, I'd be in Greece.
