Season 6. Episode 10. Puglia Positives and Pitfalls.

October 10, 2026. Bari to Torre Canne, Italy. 47 miles. 787’ climb. (Flat)

Once disembarked from the ferry in Bari, we went to the bike store.  I emailed with the mechanic Michael days prior confirming they were open for minor repairs. And for me to buy a new helmet. 

Sign says they are closed. As they say, the best laid plans…

While riding in Bari and passing stylish storefronts, it hit me what a time warp we’d been in when in Albania. It’s as if in Albania we’d traveled back in time in fashion styles. I realized even the mannequins in Albania were dated. In Bari, I also saw women wearing athleisure, though not knowing if tourists or locals. This style, ubiquitous in American cities, is something I hadn’t seen in weeks. 

We had a short coastal ride planned. I commented to Heather that it looks like we can relax this afternoon. Half an hour later, we hit a snag. Anytime we think or express that things are good, it’s like a jinx. 

That short ride quickly became longer as I incurred a puncture flat in my rear tire.  Heather was up ahead of me and I let her know what happened. She was very supportive and rode back to offer moral support - or take pictures because she can’t repair a flat.

While I was alone and preparing to fix the tire, the weather was threatening. It was then that my spirits were really low, and 17 miles south of Bari, alone on the highway, I said to myself: “I’m getting too old for this shit. Why am I doing this?”  We had so much momentum and were in a groove for the first 10 days or so. And now it felt like each day dealt us another hurdle. The daily pressure was building. I was approaching my limit of it’s enough. (A great psyche case for: why do I keep doing this?)

By chance I’d had a flat a few months earlier at home, that was my first with tubeless tires. (I put on a new tire for this trip.). Funny that I was now so grateful for the flat at home in that it gave me the know-how and confidence to repair my tire.  Wouldn’t it be something to be grateful for all bad things that happen to us for how they fortify us for the future?

It’s an almost surgical procedure to insert a sharp tool to clear out any object and rough out the hole and then fill it with rubber strips (nicknamed bacon) using a different tool. So far so good. Fingers crossed. 🤞

I took far too many pictures of olive trees. They were in such fascinating contorting shapes.

Throughout our rides in Puglia we would see many cacti. I’m not sure why I’m infatuated with them.

Eggplant or as it appears on the menu, Melanzana. It’s a staple on menus and I had some variation of eggplant parmesan 4 nights in a row as a starter. And it was prepared differently each time.

Puglia’s worldwide reputation for great food starts with locally sourced produce.

Fields of crops and olive trees separated by ancient stone walls were our backdrop throughout our time in Puglia.

It had rained heavily for days, with more forecasted, leaving some roads barely passable.

Sure enough, it rained on us and we arrived damp and chilled. 

At dinner, I sampled my first fish carpaccio - locally popular sarago. It was terrific. That, coupled with the most amazing tuna tataki (perfectly seared and crisp on the outside, and flavorfully seasoned) buoyed my spirits. Add in the olive oil and warm bread to start, my mood quickly improved.

One of the things I loved at dinner was the music. It was 1950’s Italian “ish” songs like Volare, That’s Amore, and others similar. While I reveled in it, it drove Heather crazy in the way it almost ruined her dinner. Days later, when I start singing Volare, it still riles her up. (And I’m using the word “singing” charitably since I don’t really know the words and I can’t keep a tune.  Which also bothers Heather greatly.)

Post dinner gelato was unavoidable as we passed two amazing looking places. At Al Buco, a server with a beautifully waxed mustache was a gelato maestro. His English was poor, so as I simply asked what the flavor (listed in Italian) was in English? He would simply say “here, try”.  That’s a fun game for me to play. He was plying me with samples. I just asked what the next flavor is, and he would whip out a spoon and give me another sample. Once at four samples, I realized I can't get the small cup here. He mastered the upsell to a larger cup. The cheesecake was so good. It had bits of that graham cracker wafer crust of the base of the cheesecake that's firm with so much butter. Oh so good!!

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October 11, 2026. Torre Canne to Lecce, Italy. 60 miles. 1,212’ climb. (Flat)

I discovered a new breakfast - the injectable croissant. Start with a regular croissant. Then choose your injection, Nutella, jelly or cream. Naturally, I’m a Nutella guy. Definitely a market for this sweet treat in American mall food courts.

Truth is we’d rather start with healthy breakfasts including hot eggs, but it’s not readily available unless we are staying at hotels. When we’re at Airbnbs, it seems we’re going for the sweet breakfast from the bakery as we leave town.

We’d been spotting Truli, the traditional Puglia limestone home with conical roof, built without cement or mortar, but by stacking limestone. With few and small windows and thick walls they helped keep cool in summer and warm in winter.

Ostuni, La Città Bianca, the white city. Stunning to approach. A fun climb.

Pruned vineyard.

Another low moment was riding for miles through what seemed like a Puglian plague of small flying ants. The bugs would hit us in the face. And accumulate on our shirts. One of those things we just had to tolerate. 

This was our biggest shock and complaint of Puglia. Beyond the postcard-perfect marketing images, there’s a ton of trash on the side of roads. In many cases for miles on end, and not just plastic and packaging like many other places, it’s a full fledged dump.

Riding through some towns in the midday felt like total ghost towns.  We’d barely see a person. It was riposo. Italy’s version of Spain’s siesta. Shops closed from about 1-4pm. How quaint and beautiful that people go home for a big family meal and go back to work later.  And given it was a Sunday, the Ghost Town effect was all that much more. We needed to plan meals and snacks around this unavailability of food in afternoon hours. 

Lecce with good reason is known as the Baroque City. The outstanding baroque architecture has resulted in it being called Florence of the South. From our location in the old city, it was wonderful to explore.

Arriving in Lecce, after showering and going out, I found the first Gelateria and experimented with zero samples - that’s a leap for me. I took the plunge and straight out ordered salted caramel. It worked out beautifully! There’s hope for me yet.  (Kevin, hope you’re proud of me.)

It was also once an important Jewish center, one of the most prominent in the Neapolitan Kingdom in the 14th and 15th centuries until expulsion. This street was the core of the residential area in the 15th century.

Lecce is a center of papier-mâché artisans. And not like the papier-mâché art projects I did in elementary school. These are skilled craftsmen who apprentice to learn the craft. Many figures we see in  churches, I previously thought were statues or wood carvings, I now know are papier-mâché. We saw how they progress from drawing to wire model to end piece.

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October 12, 2026. Lecce to Otranto, Italy. 29 miles. 309’ climb. (Flat)

Finally, a cycling day gone smoothly. No rain, accidents, chain derailments, flat tires, or supplier cancellations.  We needed that and hopefully would lead to some positive momentum. 

Arrival in Otranto celebrated properly with a visit to our hotel’s #1 recommendation - Fisotti Gelateria. Elite - a highlight of Puglia and even better than it looks. Had it not been so cold at night I’d have returned for seconds after dinner. 

Gobs of white chocolate.  Milk chocolate based. Dark chocolate mixed in. With pieces of a crumble. Oh my God. Heaven.

Actually our hotel recommended we visit the castle and cathedral. Which we did. The gelato recommendation was upon my request of who has the best in town.  

Scenes from the seaside town of Otranto:

The cathedral has one of Europe’s largest and most famous floor mosaics, from the 1160’s depicting the Tree of Life.

It also has one of the most macabre collections. The skulls and bones from the Martyrs of Otranto, a group of 813 Christian inhabitants executed in 1480 when they refused to convert to Islam during an Ottoman invasion. Really impactful.

Aragonese Castle of Otranto that was built as a defense after the Ottoman invasion. A bit late for those martyrs, but protection for the future.

One of my favorite Melanzana (eggplant) Parmesana - created in a bowl almost French onion soup style with cheese melted across the top.

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October 13, 2026. Otranto to Santa Maria di Leuca, Italy. 33 miles. 1,933’ climb

Leaving old city of Otranto heading south to Santa Maria di Leuca.

While the day started dry, we saw heavy rain in the forecast. We soon got caught in a downpour that pelted us. 

A disgusting, abandoned roadside hovel filled with garbage and a soiled mattress. During the storm, it was our refuge for 10 minutes alongside 4 Aussie riders from Melbourne. I stripped off my top wet layers and put on dry clothes and my thicker rain jacket. Heather also stripped off her wet outer layers down to her sports bra - with our Aussie mates looking on.

Scenic yet stormy.

Heading to the most southern point of Puglia, Santa Maria di Leuca (the heel of the Italian boot).

Protected fisherman’s harbor.

Santa Maria di Leuca marina at night.

A delicious dinner capped off with mason jar tiramisu! Delish!  (Late season travel is great to avoid summer crowd and heat, but much too cold for gelato at night.)

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October 14, 2026. Santa Maria di Leuca to Gallipoli, Italy. 33 miles. 503’ climb. (Flat)

Santa Maria di Leuca is where the Adriatic and Ionian Seas meet. One might say a double dose of Vitamin Sea.

We met a few French-Canadians proudly sporting their Montreal Habs flag. They were from near Quebec City and spoke little English. One of them bonded with me over accidents. He had gone over  his handlebars a few years ago and ended up with $12,000 of dental relairs. He called me his “brudder”.  I called my dentist and made an appointment to have my still hurting teeth checked when I get home.

Winds up to 42 mph is extreme. And the wind was directly at us - a full headwind. I don’t know what Orange Warning is, but it’s not good!

This was one of the hardest days yet!  When you climb a mountain, you’re rewarded by descents. And you get a reprieve on each descent. With a headwind, if it were an out and back trip, we’d get the benefit half of the time. But today we were traveling from the southern tip back up north/northwest on the Ionian Sea to Gallipoli. All one direction. No reprieve. It was difficult. For those who use Peleton (or other stationary or spin bikes), it’s as if your tension is on its very hardest level and you cannot lighten it, and it just goes on for seemingly forever. And then when you come up to a bit of a bend in the road, the headwind becomes a crosswind and randomly blows you 18-24” to your left.  Again I relied on my mantra: “Er-nie, Len-ny, Al-an, Ron”. You 4 helped get me through this day. 

It was a gorgeous ride most of the way. But tough to enjoy with the strong winds. Being next to the sea left us more exposed to the wind.

Most of the beach clubs were closed for the season.  Luckily we found one to get lunch and, by their sheltered position, a fantastic reprieve from the winds. We relaxed here for an extended stay as we only had 4 miles remaining to ride to our hotel.

Gallipoli was our last western sunset over water and was spectacular.

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October 15, 2026. Gallipoli to Francaville Fontana, Italy. 54 miles. 908’ climb. (Flat) and

October 16, 2026. Francaville Fontana to Martina Franca, Italy. 29 miles. 2,087’ climb.

The next few days were slightly better, but still punishing, with gusts up to 25 mph, and then 16 mph. I was totally done in. Had there been a van with us like on supported bike trips, I’d have jumped in. 

At one stretch I did achieve a certain peaceful calm despite the wind.  I was cycling though olive trees, crops and cacti and Heather was up ahead. Then a farmer on his tractor shouted out “Bonjourno” which pierced my silence and made me realize I hadn’t seen another person in around 30 minutes.  It was a peaceful if difficult stretch. 

Heather was strong these tough days. And would wait for me periodically. It seemed to take a harder toll on me. It might be the accident, or it could be cycling 11 days in a row, and 20 of the past 22 days? Regardless of why, I was thrilled to have a complete day off in Martina Franca. 

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We ride to raise funds for the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation. They are dedicated to curing spinal cord injury and improving the quality of life of those impacted by paralysis. Thank you to so many of you who have already generously donated an amazing  total over $26,000! If you’ve not yet had a chance to support the Reeve Foundation, please consider making a gift at Heather & Mark Ride for Reeve.

© Copyright Mark Segal 2026.