Italy, part II - Bari (ii) - Via Venezia, Lungomare Imperatore Augusto and gelatos

Bari old town and the seaside is a straight walk north from the train station. I walked up the Via Sparano da Bari, which was mostly under reconstruction and took me through a rather shady-looking park where menacing gangster-like people lurked under the boughs and stared at me as I walked past. My first impression of Italy was not going down well. I made a mental note to take another road when I came back to the train station, as I did not fancy having to walk that way when it was dark.

The view of the old town was very nice, and very Adriatic too, ivory and compact and catacomb-like. This design would be repeated amongst every single Adriatic seaside town I'd visit in the weeks to come. I do have to admit though, Croatia does it better. Sorry, Bari. I'm willing to visit more east-side Italian towns in the future and revise my opinion, but as it stands, I just didn't like Bari that much, and was even wondering if I should just find a place to eat and wait for my bus.

Via Venezia

Then I walked up to the seaside promenade up to Via Venezia, and looked up at Adriatic proper for the first time, and decided that my stopover in Bari had not been in vain after all.

Walking along the Lungomare Imperatore Augusto

After walking around the Via Venezia and then going down to the Lungomare Imperatore Augusto, I made my way slowly back south. The sea was very nice, but there was also something very desolate about it that was a little depressing - perhaps the winter sun. I walked down the Via Abate Gimma slowly - the sun had begun to set, and it was getting very chilly. I saw a gelateria in front of me, and Italy is nothing if not known for its gelatos, so I stopped to get one, and was pretty pleased with what I had. Unfortunately that's where the niceness ended - an African hobo saw me and made a beeline for me, alternating between Nihao and Konichiwa, and followed me for about 5 minutes before going away. Welcome to my world.

The dude in this photo. Urgh. He accosted me right after I'd finished taking this photo of the gelataria

Gelateria Gasperini.

I remember swallowing the ice cream rather hastily because it was gigantic, and I didn't want it dripping everywhere.

By the time I got back to the neighbourhood of the train station, the sun was already setting, and it was beginning to get cold in earnest, so I found a McDonald's, took out my second phone as my first phone was beginning to run low on battery, and used the free Wifi there, until it was time to go and catch my flixbus to Naples. By that time it was pitch dark, and I had the two seats to myself. I found the charger, plugged in my phones, both of them, and then curled up happily, accessed the flixbus complementary Wifi and put on some Enrique. I live for moments like this when I'm travelling; it's at times like this that I feel most alive.

The McDonald's in Bari

Onto Naples; goodbye Bari. I was glad to leave that ghostlike city.

Italy, part I - Bari (i)

Nothing can ever compare to that initial moment when I first saw the peninsula of Italy stretch out below me; I leaned into the window and sighed with happiness as I gazed over the green isle of Italia, and the pristine blue sea that was the Adriatic. For the first time in my life, I would be able to properly visit the heart of the Roman Empire. I did have a couple of layovers at the Leonardo da Vinci airport when I was little, but spending a few hours in a capital city's airport does not a visit make. For all intents and purposes, I was here in Italy on my own terms for the very first time.

I disembarked from the plane and was extremely relieved to get off - my seat had been amidst a crowd of rowdy, ill-mannered Italian children, and you can only imagine what a joy that was. However, I was determined not to let them ruin my trip. The minute I got off the plane, the first thing I noticed was how much warmer it was here in Italy. I immediately took off my sweater, and stuck it in my bag, then went off to buy my bus ticket. It's slightly cheaper to get bus tickets beforehand, rather than directly from the bus driver. The bus station was easy to find, and the bus arrived immediately. I handed my ticket to the bus driver, and sauntered aboard and sat down, feeling very pleased with myself. These small victories on the road really do mean something - they're probably insignificant in the grander scheme of things, but there's something immensely satisfying about finding the ticket booth, buying the right ticket, easily locating the bus stop and then getting on the right bus to the right destination without a single hitch. Whilst I was busy mentally patting myself on the back, I watched another backpacker, a Canadian woman either in her very late twenties or early thirties (she had that beaten-leather look about her) board the bus with a backpack the size of Brazil, and attempt to pay the driver with an unbroken hundred note, which was cringe-inducing. I was also genuinely puzzled - the woman looked like a seasoned traveller, how could she not know that one of the first things about travelling is that you do not pay bus drivers in big bills? The airport was 10 seconds walk away - she could have broken her 100 there. Anyway, the bus driver displayed a remarkable amount of patience and self-restraint with her whilst she fussed and sighed and whinged and patted down her harem trousers to see if she had any spare change. She did eventually manage to come up with some coins, which were slightly short of what she owed the bus driver, but he took what she had with a sigh of resignation and waved her on. (And no, she was not particularly attractive.)

Bari airport

A train shuttle to the city centre was also provided, which was faster and more convenient but also more expensive

My bus to Bari city centre!

The bus ride to Bari city centre, or to be more precise Bari train station, was about 50 minutes give or take. Apart from the Canadian woman, the only passengers were three Italians, who looked slightly younger than me, two women and a man. All of them were petite and brunette, and rather well dressed, and wore horn-rimmed glasses. The women were not particularly beautiful, but had an air of open pleasantness about them that was quite nice. All three of them had iphones, which was one of the first things I noticed - in Romania I did not see a single iphone - most of the people there used Samsung.

I arrived at the train station, and checked my GPS, and followed it to the seaside, which was where the Old Town was located. All in all, I didn't care much for Bari - it was the only Italian city which I felt a strong aversion to. It felt like a ghost town, and reminded me far too strongly of Cittàgazze in His Dark Materials, the deserted, soulless city in which spectres would feed upon the souls of adults:

Cittàgazze is a seaside town, reminiscent of those near the Mediterranean. Hills surround the city which has wide, cobbled roads and is filled with ancient architecture. It is full of hotels and smaller somewhat shabby cafes, one of which was on a promenade full of palm trees. (source)

An accurate description of Bari if ever there was one. I spent most of my time in seaside towns in the Adriatics, and many of them fitted this description, but none of them felt as chillingly desolate as Bari. I do not plan on returning there ever again, unless I must.

Getting lost within the catacombs of Bari old town

The Adriatic sea