The Gargano rises from the plain of Apulia like a limestone fortress, and Manfredonia has settled right at its foot, where the mountain meets the Adriatic. Ships dock a short distance from the centre, facing an old basin where blue and white fishing boats have bobbed for generations. The port of call opens two routes: that of the ancient sea, and that of the sacred mountain.

The City of King Manfred

The town owes its name to Manfred, son of Emperor Frederick II, who founded it in the 13th century to replace ancient Siponto, doomed by earthquakes. Its castle, begun by the Swabians and reinforced by the Angevins, still guards the entrance to the waterfront with its round towers. It houses the National Archaeological Museum of the Gargano, renowned for its Daunian stelae: funerary slabs engraved nearly three thousand years ago, with geometric faces that seem strangely contemporary. The adjoining corso, lined with palm trees and cafés, leads to the cathedral and to lanes where laundry dries between the balconies.

Siponto, the Wire-Mesh Basilica

A few kilometres to the south, the Siponto Archaeological Park holds the most surprising sight in Apulia. Near the Romanesque basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, artist Edoardo Tresoldi recreated the vanished early Christian basilica in 2016, full-size, entirely in metal wire mesh. The transparent structure lets the sky and the birds through; at sunset, it seems to dissolve into the air. Few contemporary works converse so aptly with archaeology, and photographers happily spend an hour there.

Monte Sant'Angelo, the Archangel's Mountain

The flagship excursion winds its way up to Monte Sant'Angelo, a village perched at an elevation of about 800 metres, sixteen kilometres inland from the coast. Since the 5th century, pilgrims have descended into a cave where the Archangel Michael is said to have appeared; the sanctuary, a UNESCO World Heritage Site as part of the Longobard sites of Italy, is hidden beneath an octagonal bell tower and a long staircase carved into the rock. Around it, the Junno quarter lines up its small white houses with sloping roofs, packed like dominoes along alleys where grandmothers sell ostie ripiene, sweet almond wafers whose secret they jealously guard. The road back offers sweeping views over the gulf.

Flavours of the Gulf

At lunchtime, the trattorias of the centre work with what the fishing fleet landed that morning: Siponto-style fish soup, stuffed mussels, orecchiette with turnip tops. It is all washed down with a well-chilled white from Daunia, on a terrace, while the regulars discuss the previous night's game. Artisanal gelato on the corso wraps things up, as it should in the Mezzogiorno.

On-the-Ground Tips

Planning poses no particular problem. The centre can be reached on foot or in a few minutes by shuttle depending on the berth, and taxis wait to take you to Siponto, less than ten minutes away by road. For the hilltop sanctuary, it is best to go with an organized excursion or agree on a round-trip fare: the winding road is a pleasure, but it takes time. Bring a light sweater, as the temperature difference at 800 metres surprises summer visitors. And if the southern siesta closes a few doors in the early afternoon, the churches and the seafront never really close.

A Last Look at the Gargano

As the ship pulls away from the quay, the mountain takes over the whole scene: grey cliffs, terraced olive groves, and somewhere up there the Archangel's cave, which has watched over the gulf for fifteen centuries. Manfredonia doesn't always appear in big letters in the brochures; perhaps that is why you come away with the rare feeling of having seen Italy before the crowds, an Italy that lives first and foremost for itself.