Sardinia

It had started to rain shortly after we arrived in Calasetta, and our first impressions were that it had little to offer us except a pizzeria that wasn't serving pizza. But we turned out to be wrong: our first foray had been during the siesta and, as we were to discover, the people everywhere were warm and friendly. The local policeman gave the impression of stern authority in his uniform, but the frostiness melted away at the sight of our little blonde girls and he blew them a kiss as he drove past. In fact their blondness in this town drew a lot of attention and the occasional affectionate caress from the elder ladies. After finally warming up to speaking Spanish, it's frustrating to barely have a single Italian word between us, but the staff and customers in the laundrette didn't mind and so commenced a group discussion of our laundry requirements! They embraced us as their own, and couldn't have been friendlier. Maybe if we had siestas in Britain we'd be a much friendlier place too.

After replenishing some supplies, the sails finally saw the light of day, and reaching 7.1 knots at one point, we sailed to Carloforte on Isola St Pietro (distance 4 Nm). We found ourselves in the company of some rather large catamarans and ships, and it was a nice place to relax for an evening. Being saturday night, the local population were out and about enjoying the warm dry evening. The atmosphere was lively and it was good for us to stretch our legs after the long journey followed by a day of rain. I later read in the guidebook that Carloforte is famous for its tuna (apparently they have tuna massacres at this time of year, which attract the more curious tourists) but we dined on their finest pizza instead.

Carloforte

The next day we set forth south only to find ourselves battling into a Force 6/7 wind and rough sea, so our plans were quickly altered to the nearest sheltered bay. This gave us a much more pleasant afternoon on the beach and by evening the wind had died to nothing and the sea was glassy smooth again.

A well-earned swim

Trip to the beach

The next morning we set off after breakfast so as not to give the wind a chance to pick up, and travelled 22 miles south along the coast to Porto Pino. This is apparently a popular day trip destination during the summer, but the day we were there it was almost deserted - deserted apart from Pepe the (presumed) homeless puppy who decided to spend the day with us, including sitting with us at lunch and then again on the beach. At first his presence wasn't welcomed by the girls, especially Maggie, but slowly Isla became fond of him, and was sorry to leave him when we returned to the boat. We could hear his pained cries across the water, sound travels too well. Excitingly the dunes here yielded the girls' first pirate treasure, some suitably aged Lira!

Colin finds a way of entertaining both the girls simultaneously, and exercise for himself

Ciao Pepe, a sad goodbye for both parties

Our course and the sea the next day gave the boat an uncomfortable motion, and as we travelled round the coast towards Cagliari the grandparents and youngest crewmember succumbed to its cruel effects. We all felt the relief as we finally anchored in Malfotano, a beautiful sheltered bay. With a policeman and diver in attendance we mistook an archaeological dig for a crime scene! We didn't manage to find out if they had discovered anything significant, such is the hinderance of our pitiful Italian. Once everyone was feeling better we climbed up to an old watch tower built high on the cliff, and were rewarded with fabulous picture postcard views. Then it was back to the beach for the girls to get well and truly sandy. Our pirate booty at this beach was an unfortunate tourist's camera, which we tried to find the owners of so far without success but we have some leads...

Tranquil Malfotano

The walk up to the watchtower



Grandpa builds the girls a magnificent sandcastle...

...which Maggie contemplates whether she should stand on (she didn't!)

We moved on again the next morning on calmer waters to Nora, which was the largest Roman city in Sardinia. This is where Grandparents Sing left us for the safety of a stationary hotel room and (hopefully) an easy bus journey to Cagliari airport.

Blooming Nora

Roman ruins


Maggie runs down a Very Old Road (complete with Roman sewer)

Nothing tastes as good as pocket money ice creams

All gone, and sticky hands to prove it


The onward journey from Nora saw us picking our way through some of the giants of the sea, a crowd of oil tankers anchored off Sarroch awaiting refill, to reach Cagliari. We are safely tied up in Marina del Sole, Calgliari, having seen nothing of our surroundings so far due to a day of constant heavy rain spent watching films on the laptop. We even had to dig the heater back out of storage again, when is summer really going to begin??! We happened to spot a flock of flamingos flying overhead which gives an enticing glimpse into what we may discover when the weather clears.