Sardinia Sept 10

We’ve seen surprisingly varied weather in Sardinia.

I was expecting heat, but we’ve also had two thunderstorms complete with torrential rain, luckily both in the evening, strong winds which forced us to abandon our days cycling half way through yesterday, and even one evening when it was cold. Today looked to be very settled though with blue skies, light winds and a predicted high of 25 degrees.

We had two loop options for our ride today, one of 70 kms and the other of 55. We decided to go for the latter even though there was mention of five kilometers of dirt roads unsuitable for road bikes, which we decided was a mistranslation. 55 k would still make it our longest days cycling, and there no shortage of mountains (or “hillocks” according to David) on the route.

We got going in good time and were soon in amongst the local traffic. I made a post a couple of months ago wondering where all the Fiat 500s had gone. Well we have found them: they are here, on the narrow and windy roads of Sardinia, being driven with aggressive intent and a lead foot.
The gears on Kirsten’s bicycle were acting up from the get go. They kept changing even though she wasn’t doing anything with the gear levers. We still managed to get to the very posh coastal resort of Porto Cervo, 25 kilometres away, before her chain fell off. It wasn’t an easy fix so we rang the tour representative , who must be getting sick and tired of us by now. Not that any of it has been our fault: a bag left behind, my seat falling off, and now Kirsten’s gears failing. His initial offer to get someone to us in an hour and a half was shot down very quickly by David, and five minutes later he rang back to say Giacomo, another bike mechanic, would be with us ASAP.

Porto Cervo was an interesting if expensive place to spend a short time, but none of us had any desire to look around the high end shops in our sweaty bike gear, and the tiny bottles of lemon drink that we’d bought with lunch were $20 each, so we weren’t encouraged to linger.

Unfortunately, Giacomo had no luck with the gears either, in spite of advice from passing council workers.

Standing in the sun watching him grumpily trying to fix things, seemingly insinuating that the bike had been deliberately sabotaged – although that may have been a communication breakdown – soon palled and we asked him to take us back to the hotel. By then it was early afternoon and I think we were all relieved to call it quits.

We had a gratis hour booked in the resort spa “wet room” at 4 pm. Predictably, Simon wasn’t interested but Kirsten and David also bailed early, and I was left by myself enjoying the (admittedly rather tepid) spa, steam room, sauna, cold showers, peppermint tea and soothing music. I kept hearing the sounds of bicycles being wheeled around and their bells being rung in the music, so perhaps it’s a good thing our bike tour is over.
We took the free shuttle down to the local beachfront town for our last dinner, and it was lovely. I was persuaded to order the local favourite dessert, a sort of deep fried ricotta filled fritter drizzled with honey. Unfortunately it was as delicious as it sounds ie not very, but luckily I was full anyway so didn’t feel too bad about leaving it. The local red wine was much nicer.
The waiter was very pleasant although he did take us to task for thanking him in Spanish instead of Italian. In Simon’s defense, it’s an easy mistake to make and obviously quite common. In Spanish: Gracias, and in Italian: Gracie. Equally confusing is please: Por favor v per favore. I wouldn’t blame anyone for reverting to English.

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