There is nothing here that announces itself. What you have is a long, almost featureless landscape of grain, stubble and the odd masseria, and under it the line of a Roman road. The Via Traiana was commissioned by the emperor Trajan around 109 AD as a faster, drier alternative to the old Appia between Benevento and Brindisi, and the stretch from Aecae to Herdonia is one of the places where you can follow its logic: flat, direct, and aimed at the next town.
Aecae is modern Troia, whose Apulian-Romanesque cathedral and its lacy rose window are worth the detour if the ride allows it. Herdonia is now the archaeological park near Ordona, where the Romans and Hannibal fought more than once during the Second Punic War, and where the later Roman town grew up on the Traiana itself. Rome knew exactly what it was doing when it laid roads across this plain: grain went out, legions came in.
For a rider the Tavoliere is honest rather than thrilling. The roads are straight, the surface is a mixed bag of patched asphalt, and the wind can be genuinely tiresome, a steady crosswind that makes you lean for kilometres. Late spring is the pretty moment, when the wheat turns from green to gold and the poppies run along the verges. By July the land is scorched, the light is flat and white, and the best hours are early morning and the last hour before dusk. In winter, fog sits in the plain and the temperature feels colder than the thermometer says.
Practically, small places like Castelluccio dei Sauri and Ordona will have a bar and probably a pump, but for a reliable fill and a proper meal Foggia is the sensible choice. Foggia is not a pretty city, but it is the capital of the Capitanata and it eats well: look for orecchiette with turnip tops, and bread that has a real crust. The mountains of the Monti Dauni stand to the west like a blue wall, and they are the reason many people end up on this plain in the first place, either coming down from them or heading up.
Stop at the road itself if you can find a clear section. Nothing dramatic, a worn line of stones and a field boundary, but it is quietly a good place to think about the weight of two thousand years of traffic.