by Pádraic Gilligan, co-founder, SoolNua Consulting

Salento is a sub region of Puglia and makes up the bottom half of Italy’s heel dipping into two seas, the Ionian sea to the west, the Adriatic to the east.

Leaving Salento’s main town, Lecce, by bike, your journey southwest comes gifted with a brisk tail wind all the way past Copertino, Nardo and Gallipoli to Santa Maria di Leuca. From Leuca through Otranto, up the Adriatic Coast and back to Lecce, it’s headwind all the way, although the tramontana also acts as a cooling agent against the ever-climbing temperatures of late May.

The 200km circuit combines quiet secondary roads with extensive segregated cycleways, threading its way through gnarled olive groves, Monet-style meadows and seemingly endless stands of fichi d’india. Oleander blooms add splashes of colour while the route meanders through old towns with old churches and  down into shiny new seaside villages with brand new lidos.

It is a journey through a landscape shaped equally by nature, history and the sea—one of the most rewarding cycling experiences in southern Europe, especially if you want “easy to moderate” as opposed to “moderate to strenuous”. Our “travelling coincidence” of 3 fathers, 2 sons and 1 daughter enjoyed a truly transformative travel experience.

Here are some highlights.

San Giuseppe di Copertino

This one is highly personal. My mother Monica, a devout daughter of a devout father, was an expert on saints and often spoke of St Joseph of Copertino, aka the “flying friar”.

Weak academically, Joseph was eventually accepted by the Franciscans as a stable hand where his humility, devotion and perseverance led to his eventual ordination. A mystic, he would enter a state of ecstatic prayer and levitate, his body spontaneously rising from the ground. He now has a dual patronage: patron saint of students and exam candidates and of travellers and aviators.

In Copertino we also tried our first Café Leccese, espresso poured over ice served with a shot of almond syrup or milk.

Fun fact: Copertina and Cupertina (home of Apple Computers in CA) have been twinned since 1963.

Enoteca Osteria La Cattedrale, Nardo

Having completed around 30km of the day’s cycle, we arrived in Nardò around 1pm and decided to have lunch at La Cattedrale, a small osteria located in a tight laneway off the main square.

What unfolded over the next 90 mins or so was, unanimously, the best food experience of the trip. We drank Leone de Castris 5 Roses and, between us, tried various primi and secondi under the seamless curation of Nadia, co-owner with her husband, Fabio, of La Cattedrale,

This was a world class, high-end dining experience delivered expertly, with studied sprezzatura!

Sunset in Gallipoli

Not to be mixed up with the other Gallipoli in Turkey (I did mix them up), this was definitely the best sunset we witnessed during our days together.

We headed to Gallipoli’s old town and, for obvious reasons, walked west arriving at a pretty full cocktail bar where, with speedy efficiency, like in a mobster movie, additional tables and chairs were immediately provided for the 6 of us to enjoy our snacks and cocktails as the sun, first gradually, then rapidly, sunk below the line of the horizon.

Later, at Osteria Briganti (recommended by Fabio), we witnessed a traditional procession honouring Maria Santissima del Canneto, Gallipoli’s patroness who allegedly saved the city from plague.

Serendipituous encounters in Santa Maria di Leuca

If Italy’s heel was a stiletto and not a block, then Leuca would be the bisecting point dividing two seas, the Ionian and the Adriatic. We were enjoying pre-dinner drinks on the deck of a coast-side bar when we got into a conversation with Mike (UK) and Celine (France) who now live and work in Tblisi, Georgia.

It was Mike’s 50th birthday and so they joined us at La Sagrestia for a celebratory dinner. Stories were told, toasts were made, friendships were formed.

Travel at its best.

The Uppy-Downy bit from Leuca to Otranto

On the Ionian side, the wind was at our backs and the roads, for the most part, were mercifully flat. From Leuca to Otranto, however, the character of the journey changed completely. We found ourselves riding into a headwind and tackling a succession of climbs as the Adriatic coast revealed its more dramatic personality.

Here the landscape is defined by cliffs, coves and steep inclines. Around almost every bend, another breathtaking vista unfolded: seaside villages perched above the water or nestled into sheltered inlets at the foot of towering limestone cliffs.

The flora seemed more diverse too. Brilliant oleander bushes punctuated the roadside with bursts of pink and white, while extensive meadows of wildflowers stretched towards the horizon, adding colour and movement to an already captivating landscape.

Surprise, surprise – Otranto

I knew of Otranto only because it represents the letter “O” in the Italian phonetic alphabet but I won’t forget it anytime soon. We sat al fresco, in the piazza, in front of a screen obscured by the glaring sun and watched Arsenal versus PSV in the final of the Champions League.

Surrounded by an ever growing crowd of locals and visitors, by the second half the sun was finally low enough for us to see our beloved team lose on penalties, having scored a brilliant goal from play in the first half (PSV ONLY scored from penalties).

Afterwards, we walked through Otranto’s old town to discover that magical blend of past and present, typical to Italy, ancient buildings still breathing and teeming with life and vitality.

La Friggitoria

On our final day in the saddle, we pushed on towards Lecce, beginning to regret our decision not to stop for lunch in San Foca.

It was after 2pm on a Sunday afternoon, that awkward hour when restaurant kitchens are already deep into their clean-up routines and waiters are bringing out the espressos and digestifs. We emerged from a segregated cycle path in the Cesine Nature Reserve, rejoined the quiet road towards Acaya and, as if in answer to a prayer, there it was: La Friggitoria. Set just off the roadside, it offered ample space to park the bikes and, equally important, ample shade under which to hide from the southern sun.

What followed was a gloriously indulgent Salento fry-up: prawns, calamari, swordfish and more portions of chips than we’ll ever admit to. Having already clocked up some 40 kilometres that day, we felt fully justified. Cyclists, after all, operate under a different nutritional code.

Earlier that morning, having resisted the beachside temptations of Torre dell’Orso, we had the swim of the trip at Roca Vecchia. Access was neither obvious nor easy, requiring a degree of determination and some careful negotiation of the rocks. The reward, however, was magnificent: a plunge into limpid turquoise waters, cool, crystal-clear and utterly refreshing.

Floating there beneath the Salento sun, it felt less like a swim and more like a well-earned benediction at the end of a memorable journey.