Today’s ride is a bit of an improvisation. In our original plan, we were to stay for two nights in Terranova and spend the second day on a loop ride north of town, exploring a different corner of Pollino National Park. We’ve been watching the weather evolve over the last several days though, with a period of rain and thunderstorms moving into the region. Terranova is quite remote and of course high up in the mountains, and it didn’t feel prudent to push our luck. We decided it would be smarter to cancel the second night of our stay and drop down out of the mountains to the sea before the storms moved in.
We’d never heard of Roseto Capo Spulico before, and settled on it purely for logistic reasons - it was the right distance, was on the coast, had available lodging, and has restaurants within walking distance. All the essentials.
Our ride begins with a nine mile drop from Terranova to the Sarmento River, in a relaxed 1,500’ coast. We’re on the main road out of Terranova, but as usual we have the it pretty much to ourselves - it’s really been quiet almost everywhere we’ve gone for the past week. Occasionally a car or bus will share the road with us, but we hear them coming well before they arrive. Weather is comfortable - partly sunny, mild, light winds. As we drop to the river we consider how much more we are enjoying the road today than we imagine we would tomorrow, in a thunderstorm.
Leaving Terranova, we take a last look back toward Porta del Pollino.
Andrea BrownAll plants in the mint family have square stems, which is hard to tell from a photo sometimes. Bill? Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Andrea BrownNot a mint then - it’s not square stemmed. I didn’t know that about mints - I just picked that up because the leaves suggested it to me. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Bill ShaneyfeltTo Andrea BrownSure looks "mint" to me with terminal flower clusters at the leaves, opposite leaves and the stems sure appear squarish. Pinch a bit of a leaf and sniff. Most mints are somewhat aromatic. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Bill ShaneyfeltGood idea, Bill. Oh, wait. It’s a day back in the rear view mirror, and up a mountain to boot. Oh, and I’m pretty good with the pinching piece of the instructions, but I can’t smell. Sorry, teach. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Climbing up the other side of the river, we face our only real work of the day - a series of three climbs that work their way up to the Calabrian border.
San Paola Albanese, one of a pair of Basilicata villages settled in the 1600’s by Albanian refugees fleeing a Turkish invasion. I wish we’d taken a detour up there - apparently it’s a very traditional town that retains the customs and dress of its ancestors.
Those tiny white cows in that pasture down there? We started hearing their bells soon after leaving the river, and could still hear them near the summit.
Well beyond Cersosimo, we finally near the Calabrian border and take a last look back toward the Sarmento River. It looks so close still, and is - we’ve been biking for nine miles on this squiggle since leaving the river, but as the crow flies it’s just a third of that.
Crossing the river, we turn south and climb toward the Calabrian border, along a convoluted route that works its way up ravines and over ridges as best it can. It is so quiet! There’s nobody on this road, and I can hear a herd of cows in a pasture high up in the hills for nearly the entire nine miles that it takes until we finally reach the final summit.
At the top, we find a nice roadside stone wall and eat the ham, provolone and bread we picked up at the market before leaving Terranova this morning. Next up (down, actually): a 2,300’ drop to the Gulf of Taranto. Most of this occurs in the first few miles, when we quickly drop to the Ferro River. After that we enjoy a rare experience on this trip - a basically flat, smooth fifteen mile ride to the sea. It almost feels strange to just spin and crank out the miles like this for the next hour, after all the climbing we’ve done thus far on this tour.
From a distance, Oriolo looks similar to Cersosimo and other nearby towns. It’s odd, with the structures having a flattish appearance - almost like an Ottoman town.
The castle at Oriolo hosts a large congregation of what appear to be crows. From a distance we couldn’t tell what they were for sure, but they were mesmerizing to watch as they alternately came to roost and then exploded into flight again.
As I said, we hadn’t planned to spend the night here, and didn’t know much about the place at all. We viewed it as a utilitarian stopover, but we’re more than pleasantly surprised. On our way to our hotel we cruise along the beach looking for a promising restaurant for dinner, and are delighted to discover that there is one on the castle grounds. It looks attractive and elegant, so we make a reservation to be on the safe side. We were told, or so I’d understood, that they would open for dinner at seven.
Near dinner time, we walk back down to the beach for a brief exploration, and then head to the restaurant. We’re too soon though by about 45 minutes, because they don’t actually open until eight. The manager indicates though that we could fill our time by exploring the castle, which is unattended and unlit but unlocked. We have a great time wandering through its dim halls and climbing up to the roof for views along the coast.
The dinner experience is awesome. An excellent meal in a colorful setting with an appealing ambience. They even have my sort of music playing - a Brubeck number is airing as we enter, followed by a Getz/Mulligan duet and then Antonio Carlos Jobim. Afterwards we enjoy a lovely walk in the dark back up the hill to our room, taking in the now-illuminated castle and the starry sky overhead. It’s hard to believe that the rains are due to arrive in just a few hours from now.
Such a wonderful day! It would have been great in any case, but it feels even more special because it was all so unplanned and unexpected.
We were delighted to find a restaurant at the castle. Close by our room, it looked like a perfect place for dinner tonight. An unexpected bonus was the opportunity to explore the castle while we waited for the restaurant to open for the evening.
From the sea, the castle certainly looks unassailable. Originally built in the eleventh century, it was reconstructed two centuries later by HRE emperor Frederick II, and allegedly played a role in the Crusades.
Scott AndersonTo Bill ShaneyfeltNope. Much bigger, and wrong flight pattern. Definitely either pigeons or crows, I’d say; probably both. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Looking down on the crystal clear water, from high in the castle. I got this view by opening an unbarred window and looking straight down the wall a few hundred feet. Dizzying, and a bit frightening. I could easily have just tumbled out and joined the birds.
We had a brief moment of panic when we tried to re-enter the castle from the roof, and found this door locked. Who will ever find us up here? We’ll miss dinner and maybe die up here! Fortunately, it was the wrong door.
The mains were great, but I didn’t think to take a photo of them. The piece of cheesecake that we then shared was incredible, but we didn’t photograph it either. It was so great that we ordered a second slice, and I finally remembered before the evidence was destroyed.
Ride stats today: 39 miles, 2,500’ elevation gain; for the tour, 1,368 miles, 100,400’
Today's ride: 39 miles (63 km) Total: 1,368 miles (2,202 km)
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Gregory GarceauGod, that moon picture is incredible. I see you haven't heeded my plea to go someplace UGLY with bad wine and bad food for a change. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Gregory GarceauNo, but maybe it helps to know that we’re finding very little English spoken here, so we’re often confused. Even the bricks won’t strike up a conversation with us! Reply to this comment 4 years ago
