As we rolled out of the Agriturismo’s car park, the sun was still low, there was a freshness to the air and the huge sky had that dark blue hue about it, promising another beautiful day. All was quiet with no one else in sight, we just had the soaring and swooping swifts for company as we made our way back along the gravel track to the road. We’d started the day in the only way one could on a cycling holiday; making the most of the beautiful breakfast buffet crammed full of locally sourced delights, washed down with a coffee. (I’m talking proper breakfast buffet here, a pre-Covid style where you can help yourself to as much as you like, not one of these “buffets” where you have to be handed things from behind a plastic screen by a member of staff in a hazmat suit. Where the English in me feels I shouldn’t have too much in case this stranger who I’m never going to see again judges me! Sidenote: MR BND does not have the same moral reservation.)
Today we were leaving the rolling hills behind and heading to the seaside! So the first 10 miles were all down hill, what a way to start the day. As the road disappeared off in to the valley below, so did my cycling partner who see’s every descent as a speed challenge. But on such a perfect morning I decided to take my time and enjoy the views. As I cruised down the hill and round hair pin corners I was able to fully appreciate the landscape. Row after row of neat and orderly vines stretched away from the roadside guiding the eyes to the patchwork of fields that covered the rolling terrain like a blanket. A palette of greens and browns below a bright blue sky. I passed a house up on a bank to my left where a veg patch was being tended to by an old couple, so engrossed in their task that my call of ‘Boungiorno’ seemed to be quite unexpected. As the gradient lessened our route joined another road where I was reunited with my fellow cyclist and we headed East to the coast. The rolling fields soon gave way to flat, agricultural land crammed full with polytunnels and nurseries. We pedalled straight to the beach at Marina di Altidona where the deserted seafront lay in all it’s glory. The blue, cloudless sky met the turquoise water, shimmering under the morning’s sun.
Being a Sunday morning the rest of the world was slow to wake but before long we were joined by many other cyclists who obviously use this flat, coastal road as their Sunday morning playground. We passed the time by shouting ‘Salve’ as we passed, to determine the serious, boring ones from those like us, out enjoying life! After 30 miles of flying up the coast with a belting tail wind we diverted inland to visit the town of Loreto. Just in time for lunch! Loreto is another hilltop settlement that can be seen for miles around and after a welcome incline after all the flat, we were soon pushing our bikes through the beautifully decorated Porta Romana in to the traffic free historic centre. Another bustling, lively place, we walked down the central street lined with individual shops crammed full of local produce, many complete with a Nonna stood in the door way watching the goings on. The main street draws you, almost inevitably, to Piazza della Madonna, a magnificent square bordered by some of the finest Italian architecture I’ve seen. At the centre sits the Fontana Maggiore, an impressive, elaborate fountain guarding the piece de resistance of the town, the Basilica della Santa Casa. This rare, fortress like Cathedral was built between 1469 and 1587 to protect a precious treasure. The Holy House of the Virgin Mary sits inside the Cathedral, under the huge dome. According to tradition this is the house from Nazareth where the Virgin Mary lived and it was brought to Loreto by Angels. As such Loreto and its Cathedral is a hugely significant site of Pilgrimage for Catholics all over the world. We decided it perhaps wouldn’t be the most respectful idea to go inside, particularly on a Sunday, clad in lycra! So we enjoyed the atmosphere, had some lunch sat outside in the main Piazza and then continued our journey. Not before getting a photo of the coolest looking police car and a random jet though! What a place!
Back on the coast we only had a few more miles of flat, seaside pedalling before we reached the Parco regionale del Conero, a hilly, forest clad nature reserve with dramatic cliffs dropping down to the sea. In the town of Numana the road pitched up and our speed dropped down! In what seemed like such a short distance we’d climbed high in to the park and the views behind were incredible. The Adriatic sea stretched for miles and we could see all the way down the coast to where we’d come from that morning. The gradient lessened and the road pitched and rolled, winding it’s way through this area of natural beauty. The reward for our slog up was the inevitable descent all the way in to the Region’s Capital of Ancona, sections of which were quite steep and as such prompted the question of ‘We’re not going out that way tomorrow are we?’ A question I pretended to ignore for a while to allow for a small amount of dread to set in!
The Grand Palace Hotel, our home for the night in Ancona, was definitely the smartest of the trip, perhaps the smartest we’d ever stayed at in fact! So turning up as smelly, sweaty messes on bikes wasn’t the greatest entrance but the staff were very professional and welcomed us as warmly as any normal guest. I guarantee the drinks and snacks in the complementary minibar have never been devoured so quickly though!
The afternoon and evening was spent exploring the delights of Ancona; one of which was a weird art gallery called Museo Tattile Statale Omero. Originally set up for blind people this museum actively encouraged touching and feeling the exhibits (very Covid friendly.) It wasn’t quite as good as we expected so after a long, personal introduction by a member of staff we spent the minimum amount of time walking round without seeming rude before escaping!
Due to it being a huge port city the centre itself was much more modern and international than most places in Italy so we opted for a proper pint of beer in an Irish pub and a curry at the only Indian restaurant we’d seen in the whole of Italy! Don’t judge….we promised to return to true Italian fare the following day!
Strava Link – Here
Brand New Day 