Toes in the Water, Ass in the Sardinian Sand

Sunday, September 13, 2015

When I left you yesterday we had some mean looking clouds threatening to ruin our day. While they did thwart our boat plans due to rough seas, we ended up having a fabulous day at a few of the beaches nearby. Hoping clear skies would allow us to head south on the boat tomorrow, we headed north to do some beach hopping. But not before proper provisioning. Would we survive a day on the beach without Rose and a nice sandwich spread? Of course. But why on earth would you want to? You all I know I’m a stickler for good logistics, and provisioning is just the next step on the ladder. So off we wen’t to the market where we stocked up on the essentials: meat, cheese, veggies, baguette, vino, wine opener, and some utensils. Think Yacht Week lunch on dry land (for those of you few souls who have been lucky enough to experience the glory that is the Yacht Week). We had a close call when the baker informed us that the baguette we picked out was stuffed with potatoes. I have no desire to eat bread stuffed with potatoes, but I’m just thrilled to be in a country where something like carbs stuffed with carbs is celebrated. Oh happy holiday. This would have been all for naught if Steph hadn’t taken one for the team and dove in front of some boys for the last bottle of mustard. Her apprenticeship has obviously paid off.

The road to the beaches was rather treacherous. Apparently you can’t get anywhere around here without going up a very steep mountain and then straight down it. On roads wide enough for precisely one Fiat. And little did we know, everyone here is fucking James Bond, speeding through switchbacks. They even create their own parking spaces. Directly behind your actual parking space. Blocking you in. Now I’m no urban planner, but if you are going to go to the trouble of paving a road, why not add a few feet on either side so two cars can actually fit down your two-way street at the same time? Can we really blame everything on hindsight here people? Methinks not.

Beach #1, while pretty, was somewhat unimpressive to these spoiled little Californians. But it improved greatly after a bottle of Rose. We drank our wine, blasted music from our jammy pack and ate our awesome lunch spread with much delight while the other tourists looked on with jealousy in their hearts. Who doesn’t love being on the receiving end of jealousy? Don’t even lie, you know you like it. If wanting total strangers to acknowledge the fact that you are better at life than them is wrong, I don’t want to be right. Not only did I have my GoPro, complete with selfie stick and floaty pole, but I also had my iphone and my jammy pack. I’ve got more electronics on this beach than a damn radio shack in Miami. But as I said before, preparation is key my friends. Before I end lunch, shout out to A-nette Hodge for the gloriousness that are her spicy pretzels. I have actually become so spoiled over the the years that I can’t travel without them. They pair shockingly well with a nice crisp Rose. But I’m sure A-nette already knew that.

It was then on to Beach #2. Cala Cortoe, which was heads and shoulders above the last beach. See pics above and below. We played with my new gopro (best purchase ever? It’s definitely in the running). I finally finished the most painful book I’ve ever read in my life. Glad that is over. The girls slept on the beach and everyone woke up a little more tan and happy. We headed back to the hotel and lay by the pool until the sunlight dwindled. Then we headed back to the room to pop a bottle of sparkling and get ready for dinner. Champs makes everything better…even a shower and a change of clothes. We headed into town for dinner around 8:30pm. Starving, but trying to adapt to the European way of life. Turns out, every restaurant in town is called “Ristorante Pizzeria”. Literally, every single one. Just in case you were confused as to the specialty in town. Oddly enough, we didn’t even get pizza. But a carafe of wine for the price of a nice bottle of water, we did get. The restaurant we wanted to eat at was busy, so they gave us some free prosecco while we waited. In true impatient American fashion, we drank our free booze and then went to a different restaurant. Ain’t nobody got time to wait an hour when every restaurant on the street has the same name and menu. At dinner we threw around ideas for how to find boyfriends when we get home. It’s a common conversation that always comes up when we get drunk. And typically ends with us proclaiming that we would rather be single than date the scraps that are left. Personally, I’m waiting on the first round of divorces to come through. That way they are already half way trained and slightly jaded. I’m gonna be looking pretty good by that time.

Cala Cortoe
Cala Cortoe

I’m pretty sure I woke up with the beginnings of an ear infection. What the hell else is new? I could get an ear infection from a long shower. One of my many chronic ailments in my old age. But I guess I should just be glad I still have my bone density at this point.

I have to end this blog now. Not just because we are heading out for the day, but also because my fingers are covered in Nutella, making typing a rather difficult and messy situation.

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