Making Moves Across the Med

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Today we had a few options: take a drive along the coast and visit some beaches and the lively Porto Cervo. Or be lazy and lay by the pool all day. We chose the latter. So we took up some pool chairs next to the old couple with leather skin, hoping their tenacity would rub off on us, and we spent the next 8 hours by the pool. I finished my book, so thats something. Fuck Face from our boat adventures continues to stalk us. He’s like that evil monkey in family guy. He just shows up around every turn. Steph thinks that the little Italian Boat Bitch made him pay double for his boat “damage” since we didn’t pay anything and he’s trying to work up the nerve to tell us we owe him money. I tried to mentally dare him to. Because how much fun would that be? The Emphysema twins next door were at it again. All day.

We returned our car. Getting gas was a little tricky, as the credit card machine apparently takes a siesta mid day and you can’t use your card until 3pm. Labor laws must be great in Italy if even the machines get a break. Then the rental car agency was also on a break. So after three trips, we finally go the car gassed and returned. Italian efficiency at its finest. We drank a few bottles of wine and went to the Copacabana for our usual dinner. It’s adios Sardinia tomorrow. I literally didn’t even take one picture today. That’s how lazy we were.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Today we are making moves! To another country. Up early for our 8am transfer to the ferry port of Santa Teresa di Gallura. We had our last meal at the Copacabana. Yesterday at breakfast I took the pepper grinder from the waiter’s station and kept it on my table throughout the meal. A bit taboo, but whatever. I carry little pepper packets in my purse at home. This bitch needs her pepper. So today at breakfast they brought the pepper grinder directly to my table the second I sat down. Apparently my rude American ways left an impression. Steph and Jorgie think all the waiters at the Copacabana hate us. Which surprised me, because I thought they found us entertaining. Whoops.

While boarding our ferry, the first drawback to using rolling suitcases instead of backpacks ensued: getting them up the tiny stairs of the ferry. It was like “Weekend at Bernie’s” on a submarine. We looked like fools. An nice Italian man took pity on us an helped. I’m slightly nostalgic for my backpack. After a quick 45 minute ferry, we were in Bonifacio, Corsica. Bonifacio looks like Dubrovnik and Hvar (Croatia) had a baby. In France. On and island. It’s a walled perched high on cliffs with a cute little port below it. We dropped our bags off at the hotel and headed up to old town, where we wandered the streets looking for – you guessed it – wine and food. We found a wine shop and stopped for a bottle of Rose. Then we went to lunch, where we had another bottle of Rose. And you all know what comes after two bottles of Rose in the early afternoon – a late afternoon nap. Well, the girls took a nap. I put a nice dent in Season 5 of Parenthood. For anyone that watches the show – Joel is such an ass hole!

Before dinner we had our first inaugural “headshot du jour”. I instituted a rule where every day we have to each take a cute headshot pic that we can use for our online dating profiles. My brother said that all my current pictures suck, so hopefully after a few weeks I’ll have one or two that will make the cut. Although out of the last ten years of pictures I have about four that are decent, so lets not hold our breath. And yes, I’m essentially blaming my single status on my selfie inventory. Humor me. But let the record show we are trying. So far we each have three pictures of the wind blowing our hair in our face. Off to a great start.  Just in case you thought I was joking:

Tonight I had big plans to actually go out! Like, after dinner. To a bar. While it’s dark outside. And possibly make out with a French guy. Because, why not? I had heard that Bonifacio gets pretty lively at night. I heard wrong. We had dinner in a little restaurant on the water when the waiters tested my patience, per usual. Cigarette smoke for days, as is the norm here. The combination of all the second hand smoke inhalation and sleeping in air conditioning has resulted in a nasty little cold. When I blew my nose at dinner all the other patrons turned at looked me in disgust. Apparently blowing your smoke in someone’s face throughout a meal is fine, but they draw the line at sick people. It’s all about boundaries. I’m sure you’re thinking, Rory, it is kind of gross to blow your nose at the table. But if I went to the bathroom every time time I had a snot situation, I might as well eat my dinner on the toilet. I had heard of a really cool bar that was actually an old converted chapel, so after dinner we found it and had a drink. It was basically us and the bartender’s 19 year old male friends in skinny jeans dancing to pop music. Nearing midnight, we realized our night out was not gonna happen. So we headed to bed.

Tomorrow we fly to mainland France and head to Provence. When we asked the hotel manager to order us a taxi for our 8am flight and she looked at me like I was absolutely nuts. Because who on earth would book at 8am flight?! Well we got places to be lady! Not everyone has time to spend a third of their life on a cigarette break. A wine & croissant break, maybe.

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