Today’s ride was one I’d been looking forward to since I first mapped out this trip. A string of Puglia’s heavy hitters lay ahead: Monopoli, Polignano a Mare, Mola di Bari, Bari, Molfetta and finally Barletta. Yes, I was excited.

I’d also made a firm decision: no tent tonight. Camping has its charm, but after a few too many uninspiring meals (and the growing reluctance to cycle out again just to find a half-decent one), I was ready to embrace civilisation. I needed a real shower, a mattress that didn’t deflate overnight, and the kind of temperature control only air con can deliver. Basically, I needed a night where I didn’t feel like I was sleeping in a greenhouse.

Monopoli came early in the day. I didn’t venture into the old town this time; I was keen to get some distance under my wheels. But I did stop at a fantastic café where I consumed no fewer than three pistachio brioches. No regrets. Polignano a Mare followed shortly after. The streets were quiet, just a few delivery vans and a cat or two slinking between shutters. I stopped for a few obligatory photos of that famous beach inlet, which is just as ridiculous in person as it looks in every travel brochure.

Between Polignano and Mola di Bari, I unexpectedly found myself in an unspoken race with two older Italian blokes on road bikes. Let’s be clear, they weren’t carrying panniers, and I absolutely was. And I absolutely won. Whilst searching around for a place to stop for a drink in Mola, there they were - smiling, waving me over, and before I knew it, I was sipping espresso with them like we were old mates. They even sneakily paid for my coffee. Classic Italian hospitality: disarmingly generous and impossible to argue with.

From there, the road really opened up. Flat, hot, and with a helpful tailwind; cycling perfection. The E55 unfortunately was a frequent site for me between towns this day. Not the prettiest service road to ride on, but it did the job of getting me to the next gem.

Bari was the next major milestone. I rode right through the old town, which was filled with statues, old and incredible buildings, and that Mediterranean charm I’m such a sucker for. I stopped at Almarè Beach Bar & Bistrot - a lucky find right on my route. Loads of outdoor space, cold drinks, and somewhere to keep the bike in sight. Bliss.

A few kilometres later, things got a bit more… improvisational. Essentially I had to navigate quite a large dry riverbed. The motorway soared right over this, smugly indifferent to my plight, but I was faced with either a big detour or forging through a sea of reeds on something that barely qualified as a path. Naturally, I chose the off-road adventure. Thankfully, it wasn’t half as bad as it looked, and soon enough, I was back on blessed tarmac.

Next stop was Molfetta, another coastal stunner, with a gorgeous lungomare perfect for a slow roll through. And finally, as the sun started dipping, Barletta came into view. Beautiful old cobbled streets, warm evening light, and the sense that I’d really earned this one.

Naturally, there had to be one more twist. The Airbnb host accidentally turned up to check the room was ready while I was already in it, stretched out on the bed and halfway through de-sweating. After the initial shock (mostly hers), we both laughed it off and she even invited me out for drinks with her friends that evening. It was a brilliant end to the day. A genuine local moment, and one of those rare social blips that make solo travel feel a little less solo.

Dinner was a proper bowl of pasta. The drink was cold. And the bed? Glorious.

Italy

Stories from Italy.

Adriatic Coast