This journey began as an epic adventure dream quite a few years ago. I envisioned an ambitious cross-continental European cycling tour after completing our first cycling tour with our Canadian friends along the Danube River. Last year while cycling through Italy and Croatia with my wife Devon, I realized at the age of 72 I wasn't getting any younger. I had to either shit or get off the pot so to speak or it will never happen and forever be just a dream. With a rather bumpy start and with wheels on the ground, here I go.
THE START: I'm at the airport, ready as hell to start the journey,and almost got booted before I could even check in. Why? No Visa! Rookie mistake number one? Not exactly. My 93 day stay is a bit longer than the 90-day limit for the EU. But since I was hopping over to Great Britain, I was actually in the clear. BUT, they wanted proof of an earlier than 90 day departure from the EU or cancel and rebook an earlier return ticket. Thinking on my feet (literally), I took my phone out and went to the English channel Ferries site, booked a ticket, didn't pay for it, I showed them my phone and declared "here is my ticket". They viewed the faux ferry ticket "Voila" proof of departure! Check in was complete and faux ticket deleted as I walked away. Sometimes, travel demands a bit of improvisation.
THE BIKE: But sometimes improvisation isn't enough. Upon arriving in Bari, my bicycle decided to take an unscheduled layover and missed the connecting flight. With a two day delay , I faced the dilemma of a three-hour journey to Lecce, with a planned train strike threatening my return to Bari. Luckily, the strike lasted just one day.
A cyclist without a cycle, my worst nightmare seemed real. Returning to Bari airport for my bike's arrival, I was told it was missing, with no records of its whereabouts. Shock began to set in. It's rare to see a grown man cry, and though I held back, the feeling was there. I headed back to Lecce, unsure of my next move. Minutes before boarding the train, a call came through: my bike had arrived. I almost cried once more.
THE APARTMENT: Exhausted from the 20 or more hours of travel and no sleep I make it to the apartment and spent, what seemed like ages, trying to open the wrong lockbox, a phone call later it was in.. The apartment was fine except for the impromptu emergency lights. They went on and off all night, plunging the regular lights into darkness. I’m hardly functioning but who needs sleep anyway! Turns out, there is a plastic key card slot by the door. Let there be light!
I am thinking they may have been behind the missed connection.
Airport Bike Assembly
On the way down to Leuca
On the way to Leuca I made a detour to a fun discovery Devon and I made on a previous trip years ago. I found a little foot note on a OSM Cycling map that had a little notes on saying Menhirs and a crypt called Cripta Anonima (anonymous crypt), so I had to check it out.
A Menhir
Cripta Anonima
Cripta Anonima
The following is all that I have been able to ever find on this crypt.
This has been translated from Italian.
Silent. The original title is unknown, the names and faces of the evanescent figures of saints frescoed on its walls of which only faint traces of color survive today are unknown. No information on the period of construction and for how long worship was celebrated in that apparently very small space, divided into four bays by a central pillar.
It is possible to identify a very rudimentary iconostasis which divides the space of the place of worship into a naos and a bema , as well as a small step-seat and arcosolium and shelf niches.
The floor is full of debris, many of which come from the opening in the vault of the crypt, the only access to the small cave after the original entrance facing east was buried and of which, externally, no traces can be seen.
Only a few crosses still recall the religious past of this place, swallowed up by the earth and forgotten by faith.
And it is precisely within a small plot of land, frequented by numerous flocks of sheep that come here to graze, not far from the memory of the villages of Quattro Macine and Vicinanze , that the silent remains of what is now known to all as the anonymous crypt of Giurdignano lie .
To listen to me speak my super poor Italian.
Today's 90km (56 miles) ride.
Lecce to Santa Marie di Leuca
Santa Maria di Leuca
This picture was supposed to be me standing in front of a “Santa Maria di Leuca” sign.
It ends up the sign is by the tall white stack in the distance.
I could have either rode my bike there, or walked and climbed 300 steps.
I decided I had enough exercise for the day.
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Cheers,
Jim"