In which Sid and Doris whoosh away from the hotel, elect for country roads, visit a necropolis and see the quarry where the marble comes from. Today’s mission was 102km and only 427m of climb. For the first ten minutes we climbed to the top of the village, then turned left and dropped all the height we had gained to get up to the ‘resort hotel’ Mulacri. We made 24 k in the first 40 minutes swooping down onto San Marco in Lamis.
Sid is very like Chuck Yeager. As Chuck in the Bell X-1 and others in late 1940s approached the speed of sound at around 760mph their craft experienced great buffeting. With the panniers on Sid experiences something very similar downhill at about 40kph. He is just like Chuck. If you have not read The Right Stuff for a while maybe this is the time.
We pause for a quick look back to wonder why we ever thought it was a good idea to flog all the way up that hill to stay in a very mysterious non-resort hotel completely unconnected to either the the Gordano National Park or the Padre Pio Religious Experience, “one of the major pilgrimage sites in Italy”.
Then we are plugging across the plain again. We pass the San Marco in Lamis railway station, which now has no tracks. Some of the roads are vairy rough, but maybe better than the big roads and this is sometimes side by side riding. In every layby there is fly tipping and there is rubbish everywhere.
Apricena is a good place to stop for second breakfast. On the way in we visit their new necropolis and Doris gives it a good looking at, maybe booking a slot for one or both of us.
It is clear where all the marble comes from and we have ridden through marble dust stirred up by the quarry trucks. With the combination of heavy trucks and clouds of white dust (punctuated, very satisfyingly, by a tractor belching out black smoke) we can’t take great pictures of the quarries, but here are some really weird spoil heaps. In thousands of years time archaeologists will have theories about these.
The railway is a theme of the day as we ride alongside it. Lunch in a railway cafe, is panini with Gatorade and espresso in quantities that would worry WADA.
From then on we are stuck on an orangey brown road (on the map). It is main road up the coast, not the new road. Along here we find a new roadside stall, prostitutes sitting under umbrellas or in one case doing a fetching little dance. They look rather like people staffing fruit stalls, without the fruit stall. The siesta period is obviously a key time for business. Gives a whole new meaning to “the ladies who lunch”.
These roads feel pretty safe. We are on a generous hard shoulder. The cars in Italy have passed closer than in other countries but the trucks are slightly better. We are one behind the other. We are making good progress and the tarmac is good so we can admire what view there is. But it is very boring and does not count as holiday riding.
Happily we always have vehicle of the day. Very cute a baby poo yellow Fiat Cinquecento. Very effective, a current 911 4S. Winner on the day a Fiat 900E Panorama, a very small motor home. I think I want one.
We pull off to find the beach and a pause. This coast has industrial low priced beach tourism. It does not have picturesque coastal roads or seaside towns. Sid tries enjoying himself with a Granita Menthe but his heart isn’t really in it.
We ask Monsieur Michelin for suggestions on interesting places to visit near me. We are the blue dot. Interesting places are green dots. Nuff said.
On to Vasto.
Vasto is hugely funny for Miftah Bat as a definite opposition to Smalls. Tee, hee hee. Sid’s vasts – Baggy Trousers!
Here at the Hotel Sporting (a family-run hotel, so much more charming than last night) we secure the room with the High Security Device provided and set up Blog Central round their charming pool.
We decide that the Adriatic coast road all the way up the rest of Italy is too dull (can see trucks, cannot see towns or sea) but that we can work out a way over the Appenines with enough hotels to make for reasonable length days with bottle outs. So tomorrow we go a bit further up the Adriatic side before turning inland (and of course Up).