Offloading from the ferry, rain sheeted down. I worked my way back to the ferry terminal, and changed from my now damp clothes to my cycling damp clothes. Groggy from poor sleep, and little opportunity to plan the day, I decided to spend the day (and night) at the hostel in Bari. I hadn’t decided on my route so had nowhere else to go, and a number of other things weighed on my mind.
I wandered the Old Town, castle, cathedrals, and crypts. All mazes of twisty passages. Similar to the Old Town districts of late – a walled section of the city with the residents and shops tucked into the original (or reconstructed) structures, with the odd power lines or AC unit. Unlike the recent cities, there’s little order to the higgledy-piggledy of the streets.
I visited four bicycle shops. One couldn’t order the right part, another could order something to arrive in three days, another was a motorcycle shop, and the first would have ordered the part except I watched them search through their catalogue vainly trying to find shifters of any type. If the current Bosnian solution didn’t work, or I was somewhere more interesting, I’d wait. As it is I’m moving on.
I bought a large-scale map of Italy, to better puzzle out where next. Rome means crossing the mountains. Reviews of EV7 into Rome leave me disappointed, and I don’t feel like cycling into that metropolitan density. After digging through my options I’m heading up the east coast for small roads and small towns. That would have me arrive in Venice way early, but that’s a problem for later.
I’m feeling travel-fatigue, and for the moment just want to wander up the coast, with little need to plan. So I am.