April 24, 2022
To Foggia
Today was the last cycling day of my tour in Puglia. It was a day that turned out to be quite different from what I'd expected, but was one that touched my soul.
My destination today was Foggia, located in a large agricultural region known as the Tavoliere. I chose Foggia because it has a train station. As you might recall from the previous post, I had originally planned to cycle in the Gargano Peninsula, and Foggia was the nearest place to catch a train back to Naples. Another reason to push on to Foggia was the chance to cycle through the salt marshes that are located between Margherita di Savoia and Zapponeta. Between Jimmy Buffet and Frank Zappa and flamingos - how could I go wrong?
It was a quiet Sunday morning when I left Trani, following a state provincial road to Barletta, about eight miles up the coast. The route circled the port of Barletta and then followed a lovely tree-lined mixed-used road that ran for three miles alongside the sea. It was not a quiet morning in Barletta. Conservatively, I would estimate I passed more than two hundred people out for their Sunday morning exercise – walking, jogging, running – even a few cyclists and some equestrians. It was slow going, weaving through the mob, but great fun.
Things were quite different a bit further up the coast, in Margherita di Savoia. The promenade along the sea was largely vacant, save a few slow strollers. The town seemed on the cusp of summer exuberance, a Margaritaville in waiting.
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Somewhere after Margherita di Savoia things got a little mixed up. The first was when I thought I was on the wrong road, but wasn’t. The detour of my own making was short lived and I was soon on the correct road crossing one of the inlets between the salt marshes and the sea. The second mix-up was when I thought I was on the right road, but I wasn’t. This was more serious as I completely missed getting on the path through the salt marshes. Instead, I stayed on the busy state provincial road, all the while looking for signs of a some sort of track – but I saw no cyclists, no walkers, nothing that looked cyclable. I even walked down toward the marshes at the few places where there appeared to be access, but had no luck. So, I cycled all the way to Zapponeta with nary a flamingo in sight.
Later, I revisited the Rachael Anderson’s video of their ride from Trani to Manfredonia, which clearly shows them riding through the marshes - along with wonderful flamingo pictures. I recommend you take a look at that entry to see what I missed.
In Zapponeta, I found a bench in a small plaza on the edge of town where I consoled myself with a breakfast sandwich and a chocolate-filled cornetto that I'd picked up in Margherita di Savoia. The other bench was occupied by two men, sometimes three, and a small child named Michael. From time to time they would shout out friendly greetings to passers-by, while Michael was most interested in the many motorcycles that roared past. Whiling away a Sunday afternoon in small-town Italy.
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After lunch, I headed west to Foggia, just as the wind picked up and changed direction. My day suddenly got a lot more challenging: 17-20 mph headwinds/crosswinds for the 25 miles into Foggia. The good news was that the roads I selected were so isolated that there was no traffic, less than one car/mile for twenty miles. The landscape was flat, crops in all directions. It seemed as if I was back in Iowa. I recalled those long RAGBRAI rides where I’d brake for slices of ice cold watermelon sold from the back of a pick-up trucks parked on a dusty side road. I kept pedaling.
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But we’ve all been there, fighting headwinds. It was not a real hardship, not like that experienced by the immigrant farmworkers whose abuse and exploitation by the “gangmaster” system in Foggia have been reported by international publications such as the Guardian and NPR. I did not read about these atrocities until later; however, on more than one occasion today I was encircled by the stench of unwashed humanity, probably brought by crosswinds from one of the unseen shantytowns that populate the area. I witnessed a large group of farm workers, walking bent over through a field, urged along by a man on a tractor. No, there is true suffering in the world, and cycling in a headwind is a nanopain in comparison.
Sometimes, a little disappointment that your day didn’t turn out to be quite as wonderful as expected gives one the perspective to realize just how truly, truly fortunate I really am. And for that I am eternally thankful.
Today's ride: 55 miles (89 km)
Total: 530 miles (853 km)
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