To Puglia and around Lecce
North from Sicily to Puglia by train, and a week exploring a bit of the heel of Italy from a homely base in Lecce. Getting there strengthened our view that riding our bikes is a lot less stressful means of getting from point A to point B than relying on train services.
Previous: The Sicily Divide (more or less)
cycle.travel maps of our bike rides in Puglia here, and of our fairly pathetic ride to and from Lamezia Terme from the station here (and individual links below).
Intercity trains from Taormina to Lecce (almost)
The many switchbacks down the hill from Taormina—each revealing a new view on a still, sunny winter’s day—was a fine end to our Sicilian ride after a day of rest. Behind the grand entrance hall of the Taormina-Giardini railway station lies a typical small regional railway station with only stairwells joining the three platforms.
Fortunately, our train was set to depart from platform 1 requiring no stairs, but we became a little nervous when it was announced that the train before ours was to be moved from platform 1 to 2. With our heavy bikes and bags, the stairs were not really an option, so we quietly agreed that, if our train changed platform, we’d just up stumps and ride the 40 km to Messina. Fortunately it didn’t!
However, our train’s arrival brought some unexpected challenges. We had thought ahead and taken our heavy batteries out of the bikes and into a bag, to make it easier to lift the bikes up onto the hooks in the train. We had read that the bike carriage on intercity trains was carriage 3 (and had booked seats in that carriage). We had watched other trains come and go all with prominent bike signs indicating where bikes should go, through double doors without much of a rise from the platform, which would allow us to roll the bikes on with luggage attached.
So it was a surprise when the old intercity rattled in from Catania with no bike markings (no obvious bike carriage at all) and narrow doors with four steep steps up onto the train. The station attendant waved us vaguely toward the front of the train, and without any further guidance we picked a door at random, took off our bags and attempted to lift the bikes up into the carriage. Fortunately one of the young station employees came and helped. Once in, we could see no obvious space for bikes, but after a bit of a wander we discovered a bike storage area at the other end of the carriage, and were able to wheel them down to it.
With the bikes onto the hooks, we sat back and relaxed. A little later, Chris discovered that all three accessible toilets on the train were out of order, and a fourth, which looked to be in order, was tantalizingly out of reach beyond the door into a locked carriage. At Messina station (mercifully not far), the train stopped for 20 minutes. I checked with the guard, who unapologetically confirmed there were no working toilets on the train, and was told I had time to find a toilet on the station. For future reference, I noted that Messina station at least has elevators joining all platforms. The toilet was a long walk, and pay-for-entry (but you can sneak in if you wait for someone to come out).
However, the toilet situation on the train wasn’t quite as dire as we supposed, because straight after Messina station, the train rolls onto the ferry. Up on the ferry, there were civilised toilets and a staffed cafe (as opposed to the vending machines on the train). The crossing to the mainland was pretty cool.
Once on the mainland it was a quick trip to Lamezia Terme, where we had booked two nights in the Savant Hotel (comfortable and seemingly unchanged since the 70s). Both bikes were booked in for a service at Sportissimo on the day in between. Lifting the bikes down onto the platform felt a lot easier than lifting them up, presumably because we had time to prepare ourselves, and it was with some relief that we found that Lamezia Terme station has elevators connecting platforms (only big enough for one bike held vertical though). We hadn’t planned on Lamezia Terme the town being 11 km up the hill from the station, but it was good to get on the bikes after a few hours of low-level, seated stress. Lamezia Terme is a big town with some charm, and we enjoyed walking the streets of the old town and its surrounds on Thursday night and Friday.
The Trenitalia website was being inscrutable, listing four trains to Taranto over the weekend (where we originally thought we should start our Puglia stay), but consistently reporting that we were temporarily unable to book tickets on any of them1. We decided we should head down to the station on Saturday morning with a contingency plan of spending a night or two on the coast if we weren’t able to get on a train. But at the station, the lady at the booking office told us that because of track works, the service was a different train to normal. Because of this, she wasn’t able to sell us tickets, but advised us to get on and try to buy them on board. We also saw that the train’s destination was Lecce, and decided then and there that would be a more sensible destination to start our Puglia adventure.
We had prepared ourselves for the worst, but were delighted when a brand new, modern intercity train rolled into the platform: double doors with ramps into the well-signposted bike carriages; even charging points for e-bikes! We sat back astonished, and the guard soon came around and sold us our tickets. During the trip, we bought ourselves a passable lunch from the on-board vending machine, each used one of the two remarkably clean and functioning toilets, and booked ourselves a week’s accommodation in Lecce. Feeling very happy with ourselves, we watched the Ionian Sea flash by as we zoomed along at 140+ km/h.
The train stopped at Taranto, where we noted the station had no elevators, and congratulated ourselves for booking through to Lecce. But soon after, the train stopped for a long time at the much smaller Grottaglie station, still a long way from Lecce. Finally, the guard came around to tell us that the train wasn’t going to make it to Lecce, and we’d have to take a bus from here. “What about our bikes?”, we asked. “You’ll be able to put them on the bus” he assured us. So, we got the bikes down off the train and across the tracks to the deserted Grottaglie station, and wheeled them around to the 20-seater bus that was filling up with the other passengers.
The bus driver correctly surmised that our bikes were impossible. There was a lot of back-and-forth between bus driver and guard and a particularly useless Trenitalia customer service officer sitting in Firenze, who they got Maree to speak to on the phone. Their ultimate solution was for us to catch the next regional train back to Taranto and to catch another regional train to Lecce. We quickly decided that a much better solution would be for us to blow a night’s accommodation in Lecce, find somewhere to stay in Grottaglie, and the day after, ride the 80 km to Lecce, thus freeing ourselves from reliance on Trenitalia.
Good call! Between thunderstorms, we rode the 1.5 km up the hill into the old town of Grottaglie and found a lovely B&B for the night. Grottaglie was a surprisingly beautiful town. We wandered out that night, out of the old town into the magical Quartiere Ceramiche, with its decorated streets and colourful ceramic shops. After dinner, we walked back along the busy main street in the pouring rain. Delightful.
Grottaglie to Lecce
February 16 2025 (85 km)
The ride to Lecce required some mental recalibration for us after Sicily. Even though it rained a lot overnight, we found that we could trust the small back roads that cycle.travel sent us down. No significant mud. A few sections of road inundated, but only ever over pavement. There was a short section that was unsealed and puddly, but not sticky at all. And that was completely made up for by the long section of remarkably smooth new road that followed it. We breezed through the tiled streets of the old towns of Oria and Mesagne, with a quick lunch at the latter. The matter-of-fact service had us pining for Sardinia.
We managed the 80 km ride without too much effort, and found ourselves at our beatiful house for the week: a two-bedroom house in an old convent. A big shared courtyard downstairs where we could safely store our bikes, and our own private sunny courtyard upstairs off our living room. This felt like an opportunity to truly take it easy for a week. And indeed Lecce is a good city for a mooch.
On our first morning, Chris headed out to get his pannier rack fixed (it having finally snapped after the trauma of being rammed in Sardinia. The man at Bike and Scooter regeneration quickly diagnosed it as aluminium, and thus unweldable - but he was able to fit a new one there and then.
With our bikes restored to full health, we had grand plans to use the local trains to explore the far reaches of the heel, but we should have known better. So, on a sunny Tuesday morning, we rode through the quiet streets of the old town to the station and (as a trial run on the train-bike day outing idea) bought ourselves two tickets to Maglie with supplements for two bikes.
We then discovered that Lecce station is yet another one without elevators connecting platforms. It was less of a problem without all our luggage: even though the bikes are heavy, climbing the stairs with the walk-assist was fairly easy (for Chris, at least, with his greater height).
So, we got our bikes to platform 6 where the tiny 10:40 train to Maglie was sitting, and we waited hopefully until the guard arrived. Sadly, as we feared, that train doesn’t take bikes. The guard suggested that the 12:30 train would be able to take bikes, but we figured it’s just not worth the risk, and decided to narrow our expectations for rides around Lecce.
San Cataldo
February 18, 2025 (43.km loop)
So we retreated for a coffee in the sun at a bar just inside Porta Rudiae, and planned a short ride to the Adriatic coast as plan B.
The ride to San Cataldo was along off-road paths all the way out of town. Once out of town, we followed the main road to San Cataldo, mostly off it on a pista cicabile, although clearly not a highly used one, given the thick carpet of pine tree litter along much of it, and unfriendly concrete barriers at a few stages. It was back on the main road for the last few km into San Cataldo, which has the air of a faded seaside resort that has seen better days. We had quite a good lunch in a cafe on the beach among the old bathing boxes before heading off south along the coast for a few km through a nature reserve.
Signs warned of the possibility of wolves, but there were none to be seen. The ride back into town was along a more used cycle route. Nice small back roads, with a pause for a sticky around the old fortified town of Acaya. A good afternoon outing that adequately compensated for dashed train-related plans.
Nardo and Santa Maria
February 20, 2025 (76.km loop)
This 76-km ride was as far as we were willing to go without the aid of train travel, and it was a good one. The ride south out of Lecce was on dedicated bike paths for at least 5 km. They seem to be investing in new lighting for the route (they could do with some investment in the paving as well). The ride to Nardo was a quick 25 km. Nardo’s old town had a holiday vibe (for a Thursday), with lots of families wandering the market that was spread out along the pedestrianized streets: mainly sweet stalls (we bought some mandalore brittle and some nougat). The route out of Nardo was off-road paths all the way to the beach at Santa Maria. This Ionian town has a lot more going for it than San Cataldo: beautiful protected beaches in coves between rocky shores all flanked by a sweeping promenade. We scored a flash lunch in a restaurant with a view over the bay. The ride up out of town was our first decent hill since Sicily. Quiet back roads through olive groves (with some really old trees) saw us back in Lecce by 4.
Northwards to Brindisi and San Vito dei Normanni
February 23, 2025 (74.km loop)
Otherwise, our stay in Lecce involved wandering the streets of the old town, enjoying our house and catering for ourselves for a change. But all things must come to an end, and the north beckons (specifically a date with our daughter, Laura, in Milan in 3 weeks). So on a quiet Sunday morning we bid our house and courtyard goodbye, packed up the bikes and rolled out of Lecce. We were cheered to find our favorite busker had wheeled his piano into Via dei Perroni and was bashing out some old show tunes to fare us well as we rode out.
The road was fairly busy most of the way to the coast. We took a little detour at Torre Chianca, which looks past its prime like San Cataldo, down to the litter-strewn beach and torre. Sunday traffic was busy for a few further miles along the coast (a big market at one intersection was causing quite the hold up). After the big Federico II Brindisi power plant, it was quieter back roads into Brindisi. It’s fair to say that we didn’t give Brindisi as much of a chance as it deserved - after a few minor mechanicals, time was marching on, so we just stopped for lunch and rode on through.
Out the other side of Brindisi, on smaller back roads, we road through olives, artichokes, almonds and vines (catching sight of a fox and an eagle among the almonds, and a green sandpiper in a wetland, and two squished hedgehogs on the road). The strada communale we were on for a while was startlingly good compared to our memorable Sicilian SC roads. All in all, the backroads into San Vito were lovely. After checking in to our B&B we headed out for a dusk passegiata in the old town.
San Vito dei Normanni to Monopoli
February 24, 2025 (77 km)
The road west of San Vito was quite different from the road in: lots of impressively neat dry-stone walls along the road and between the many small farms. And we encountered the first bit of relief in the landscape for a while (indeed we ended up climbing 780 m during the day). We were tempted to stop and take a photo of our first Trulli, but as we expected, they became more and more common as we approached Locoratondo. The quiet undulating (mostly good quality) backroads, the many and varied trullis (even a pizza-oven trulli), the terraced olive groves, with carpets of white, red, orange flowers, all made for one our most pleasant day’s ride.
We had a good lunch with a view at Locoratondo at Kianza. The old town of Alberabello is famous for its Trullis, justifiably so. The view from the main piazza is quite something. Chris sat and soaked in the atmosphere while Maree had a look around. From there on, it was mainly downhill to Monopoli, on quiet backroads.
Without booking ahead, we scored a beautiful room with a view of the old town at Albergo Diffusi in Monopoli. We took a long passegiata arond the port, watched the fishing boats come in, and saw a fellow fishing off the rocks pull in a sizeable actopus). By dinner time it was raining, and we dashed to a locanda up the road recommended by our host for a good dinner. A good day!
Monopoli to Bari
February 25, 2025 (51 km)
We had been planning on continuing north, but a broken chain on the outskirts of Bari presented us with some afternoon time to review our plans. And by the end of the day, our Puglia tour had come to an end.
But before that fateful break, it was a good day’s riding. The Adriatic was crystal clear in the many beatiful little coves along the low rocky cliffs out of the Monopoli suburbs. It was always best to look out at the view than down at the rubbish littering the coast.
Polignano a Mare was an impressive old port town with a wild canyon leading to a rocky beach in the middle of town. We spent a bit of time there hanging, even taking the time for a rare ussie.
Mola di Bari, an urban seaside town, soon morphed into the suburbs of Bari. We had decided to push on to Bari for lunch (and beyond for the night), but on the outskirts of Bari at a set of traffic lights at San Giorgio, Chris’s chain broke. Fortunately we had a quiet, grassy turn-in to deal with it. Fixing the chain was remarkably easy, thanks to the chain tool that Chris has been carrying around unused for 6 years. Having consulted the Park Tool oracle on such matters, we sought out a bike shop to get a replacement chain
The fixed chain got us the 9 km to the nearest bike shop, which fortunately also had a cafe. It was a 2-hour wait until 4 pm for the mechanic to get back. While waiting we decided to stay in Bari the night, and Maree found a little airbnb in the old town that would take our bikes. Once we made it into our home for the night, we spent half an hour or so mulling over the pros and cons of riding on or catching a train on, as the heavens opened outside.
After much checking of potential cycling routes on from Bari, it seemed that the density of towns inland of Gargano (the mountainous spur of Italy’s boot) around Foggia made planning flexible days’ riding challenging. A loop of Gagnano itself might have been an interesting ride, but it wouldn’t help us get to Milan for the 17th (when we have a date to meet our daughter Laura). Ultimately, we realised that we needed to catch a train some of the way to Milan, and we figured a train across the gap would mean missing less interesting riding than inland from Ravenna to Milan.
With that monumental decision made we headed out into the wet streets of the old town for our final Puglian dinner.
Coming soon: Marche and the Po valley
Footnotes
The Man in seat 61 recommends booking train tickets through italiarail.com, which we did for Taormina to Lamezia. After booking, and after a bit of back and forth, italiarail told us that they don’t provide ‘bike services’, and that we should buy the bike supplements to our tickets at the station when we get there. (Doing so at Taormina station was very easy.) When we tried to book from Lamezia to Taranto, italiarail didn’t even list the four trains that were ‘temporarily’ unable to be booked on the trenitalia website. These two experiences converted us to the habit of finding trains using the Trenitalia website and buying tickets once we got to the station.↩︎