Day 12/56 : 15,000kms around Europe.

The wind didn't chase the clouds away. They are getting darker and darker. And as we ride further south down the Eastern leg of the Italian boot it is becoming apparent we need to make a plan. The plan starts forming as we wind our way past groves of olive trees, fields of sweet potatoes, hilltop towns and polytunnels of peaches. We'll just have follow the big bright blue circle of sky that has appeared, as if by magic, above our helmet heads. We dash through Agropoulis, down the via Appia to Acciarolli where we shelter from the rain for coffee and croissants. More blue circle skies take us to Policastro for a picnic lunch on the harbour wall and then it's on to Lagonegro and Policoro. So far we have avoided getting wet by dodging the deep, deep grey canopy and riding under the blue patches overhead. Then by late afternoon our luck ran out. No blue skies and lots of rain. We head for the autostrada and stop in a SOS lay-by to complete the arduous and tricky task of donning rainsuits, standing on one leg, then the other, over boots, over bulky jackets and propping ourselves on the bike without it or us falling over. The rain makes our fingers sticky and clumsy. A bright Orange Highway Service van stops to offer assistance. “Thanks, but no thanks, we're done”. Both attired in luminous green Hi-Vis Babygros, and then the rain stops. Too bad, we keep them on and keep warm against the late afternoon howling wind that is now driving the clouds and rain away. The flat lands across the Sole of the Boot create tremendous side winds so we tuck ourselves in the fast lane as close as possible to the centre Armco barrier and and swaying plants for protection. It's exhausting,but we hang on until we spot a welcoming sign to San Marco Agroturissimo. We agree “that's definitely enough for the day” as we drive down an elegant tree-lined drive to a stunning geometric classical white building overlooking the vast windy valley below. We knock. We call loudly with no response. “There's some people in the garden” I say. Bedraggled, windswept and wearily we stroll over “ Buenos dias,can you help us please?” Yes, they are relatives of the grandmother who runs the agroturissimo. Back to the white cube where they all disappear inside and bring out an elegantly dressed octogenarian, styled with bold red lipstick and beautiful coiffured hair. She opens the door into tiny side room/office and everybody squashes in. Fifteen Italians ranging from 60 years down to 4 years, plus 2 bikers with helmet and jackets, make for a very cosy confab. We proceed to have at least 5 very loud conversations in both English and Italian where everybody is translating and joining in and eventually hand over some money and are informed that we can pitch the tent in the garden. There's a spotless bathroom for our use, plus washing machine and another tent with a friendly Belgian couple. We tie our tent to a disused caravan and very large tree, find a broken terracotta pot to act as a wind shield and boil up water for an authentic spaghetti supper. A gift of homemade red wine appears from one of the family and we spend an entertaining evening with our neighbours swapping travel stories. The wind dies down overnight and we wake up to a beautiful bright blue day, no rain, no clouds. Following the blue circle in the sky took us through villages, harbours and mountain passes, and adventures that surprised, delighted and wore us out. What a great way to travel.