Into Anapo Valley

 

Wind turbines in the distance

Today's ride takes us 36 miles further into the interior -- and into the agricultural heart of the rich Anapo Valley.  Over breakfast, we talked about our biking route -- trying hard to dismiss the forecast of more high winds.  I'm beginning to see the irony of hoping for windless biking days when pedaling in the shadow of giant wind turbines turning across the mountaintops.  And rain?  No, we decide, leaving raincoats in our duffels for transport. Tempting the precipitation gods . . .  with predictable results!

The ride is a day of rolling hills through small villages, across rivers and finally into the orange and olive groves of the Anapo.  Each area through which we have pedaled is so different: From the coast (and traffic) of Siracusa into the quaint piazza-less stone garden of Noto, to the dual cities of Ragusa and now into the Anapo valley -- where time and traffic seem to disappear.

Gems of the Anapo

After an on-the-road lunch stop in Palazzolo (Cliff now is making the sampling of macco di favi into an art), where we tried our darnedest to hide out from the gathering clouds and looming rain, we began a long downhill into the valley.  Off the main road (and onto rutted farmers' tracks) we bounced deeper and deeper into the valley -- crossing the Anapo River and observing the cliffs of the Pantalica necropolis on the way to our Agriturismo: Sacre Pietre.

The charm of Sacre Pietre, I can hardly hope to communicate.  At the end of a dirt road and set among citrus trees (orange, lemon and tangerine) was a stunningly contemporary looking weathered structure (and for the sake of me, I don't know why I took neither a picture of the building nor of its delightful owner) with two lofted rooms overlooking orange groves and the setting sun.  And while each of our hosts has been kind and gracious, nowhere has there been a warmer or more authentic welcome than at Sacre Pietre.  A short, watch-capped man with weathered skin, a brilliant smile, an ever present cigarette (or e-cigarette) and very little English (but the heart of a host and the magic of a person who truly connects) showed us where to park our bikes, find our rooms (baggage already moved inside) and how to turn on our lights and heaters before offering wine and cheese on the terrace.  The quiet of this magical landscape was a respite from the hurry-up of cycling and the hustle of cities.  This location would turn out to be my favorite stop on our tour.

Sacre Pietre in the foreground (r) lush valley beyond

Although the Sacre Pietre Agriturismo is growing to include a kitchen and dining room, as of our visit, dinners were served at the local restaurant just about 250 meters down the hill.  On our first evening, we were all but lost between two very large parties of locals -- one apparently an anniversary of some sort, the other a large group (of mostly men), which we joked constituted the annual Orange Baron dinner.  We brusquely were seated and provided water and wine.  Despite never being offered a menu, within half an hour food began arriving at our table in waves (though far more than we could consume, it barely compared to the courses served the parties). This was by far the longest evening meal we experienced.  We finally escaped just before midnight -- returning to our rooms in the dark and the chill only to find no heat or electricity.  Luckily, the next day is a hiking day (the lone non-cycling day of our journey) and we plan to sleep in anyway -- perfetto!  G'night Anapo!