Mi piace moltissimo, Sardegne

I brought a dictionary but not the Thesaurus; a bit of an error on Male Old Git’s (MOG) part, for I have run out of adjectives and superlatives to describe this fascinating island. I cannot try and describe the rock formations…

























The vast open valleys…












The flora…




















The fauna…
























A rare breed of visiting bird from England…!






The majestic cliffs…



To be woken by a cuckoo and the local pigeons in our villa, (They have an Italian accent as well; for their sentences end in ‘oo’), which apart from the occasional noisy dog, is very tranquil.

















Our apartment within the Villa, Pinetrees, whose owners Carlo & Rita have been the most hospitable hosts anyone could wish for…every time we have been to play tennis at their house Carlo has a cold beer at hand…now that’s hospitality MOG style.
















It has been a joy to stay still for a couple of weeks although we have ventured out locally, one day MOG drove for seven hours down to the South West of the island and back. We did encounter what is reputed to be some of the best beaches in the Mediterranean. I’ll let you be the judged of that…

Who needs to fly all the way to the Caribbean…?

























As we had quickly made up our mind to stay here for 2 weeks we went down to the ‘supermacato’ and stocked up accordingly. MOG bought a huge quantity of minced beef which was not only good quality but a real bargain to boot…however we are sick of the sight of Bolognese, home made beef burgers, chilly…, 4 kilos (9lbs in real money) goes a b*****dy long way! We have however also taken the opportunity to do a lot of walking, playing tennis and explore this quiet part of Sardegna…, mainly to work off all that meat!

Dawn with local ‘guard dog’, Scruffino with the usual back drop of Vine Yards…
















We also went around our area visiting some of the old towns and more Italian seaside areas. The ancient town Osimi Antico was abandoned due to flooding and mud slides from the towering cliffs that stand menacing over it….there are some good bargains for that holiday home though…

Old ruins – may need some attention!
















However with all this peace and tranquillity we have sat down and started to plan what we will do when we return home…we’ve not reached 6 months of the Gap Year yet!

FOG will be updating the Facts-Old Gits Gap Year shortly…

www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com

But, for MOG, the best visit was to the local wine producer…MOG’s ‘barrel’ is on the right…however no such luck…the car suspension just wouldn’t take it…there again I could get rid of FOG…now that’s a thought!

Island hopping…again

First let’s talk about taps… Male Old Git (MOG) is starting to believe there is a conspiracy…! Every tap producer and designer have conspired to produce taps that are totally unfathomable to use and takes the traveller ages and several gallons of water to fathom out exactly how to extract hot or cold water. Even more confusing are how on earth the plugs work… I suspect the tap designers are more interested in obtaining some award than producing a tap which is user friendly…, what ever happened to two taps with plug and chain?

Enough of the whinging… Our last night in France we stayed in Nice and after a brief stroll along the promenade, which could have been anywhere in England, except for the weather of course, we entered the old town; all very charming. The Marina and old harbour area is definitely worth a visit and great for people watching…some of the yachts are mind blowing. Now here is an admission: the people were also friendly…, we must be in the ‘nice’ part of France! (Sorry!)

Typical street scene in Nice




The drive to Genoa was a delight for the road is unbelievable Italian engineering at its best, comprising of numerous tunnels through mountains and bridges over 500 metre gorges…the only problem is whipping off your sunglasses quickly enough on entering the tunnel: or you really would be driving blind. Thank heavens for the SatNav; for we would never have found our ferry terminal, there are so many in Genoa; it is a little bit of a lottery. Of course the OGGY tradition lingers on and we arrived so early we could have knitted a jumper in the time that we had to wait. The GNV ferry to Porto Torres was huge (we hardly felt it move the entire night) and the boarding very organised, but due to it being quiet and off-season, only the self service canteen, serving school dinner type meals was open, not very Italian. Well, at least the beer was cold and the barman a real character, who took a shine to FOG…, feeding her with warm sausage rolls! Disembarkation was, on the other hand, back to the usual Italian chaos but you just can’t get worked up about things somehow…it’s all done with charm, a lot of smiles and, and of course, the arm waving.

Sardinia is, quite simply, a beautiful island. After the congestion of the Riviera, the vast emptiness of this island, especially in the central mountain region, is a pleasant change. The North East of the island around Palau and Baia is the most touristy and expensive but certainly worth a visit. We stayed near San Teodoro, just south of Olbia, and the beaches with the stunning rock formations took your breath away.

View from our beach apartment
















The wild life is everywhere…

A Heron finds his dinner














The local beer has quite a punch and can affect one’s eye sight:

Before After
















FOG commented that the scenery was as good as the Caribbean and as our little apartment was only 20 yards from the beach we trotted, bare footed, down to the water’s edge looking forward to a cooling swim…, where upon the first encounter with the freezing water melted our enthusiasm for a dip… no, we certainly weren’t in the Caribbean.

FOG has now updated our Caribbean travels in the sister blog – Facts- Old Gits Gap Year:

www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com

On our way south down the East coast to our next destination (an apartment in a villa in a more traditional part of Sardinia) we felt compelled to stop on several occasions to take pictures. The natural beauty of the countryside, carpeted in wild flowers, the chorus of bird song provided us with utter tranquillity. Some of the rock formations, similar to those found in one of the North American deserts, left one expecting to see a posse of cowboys, led by John Wayne, riding hell for leather over the next ridge… The road down to Cardedu was an extremely steep gorge and had FOG gripping tightly to the dashboard: no more impromptu picture taking now…

Valley scene in Sardinia













Our villa, Pinetrees, did not disappoint…, and it didn’t take us long to decide to hang our hats here for two weeks. If you are looking for a place to chill out then this is it. This may sound very precious, but we have found the constant travelling very tiring; plus I had to remain stationary enough to complete our tax returns! The old adage is true; “The two certainties in life are: Death and taxes!”

My Italian language is not really improving here as most of the people are speaking a very different local dialect called ‘Sardo’. I can liken it to being back in Abersoch with the locals!

The few days we have spent here have been blessed with gorgeous weather but it is the people that make this area special. The surly grunts from shop keepers, which we have become accustomed to, have been replaced by pleasantries and an almost embarrassing helpfulness. Our hosts, Carlo and Rita, have also been very accommodating, so much so that when I crunched the car on a hump in the driveway, leaving a very loud and worrying rattle, we were immediately escorted to the local garage to access the damage… Having found such a haven, I am really looking forward to the next few weeks; except for completing those blessed tax returns…

Typical coastal scene in Northern Sardinia:

From Barbados to Avignon via Abersoch and....Miss England

The long night flight from Barbados was tempered by being upgraded to a Traveller World Plus seat which meant a little more room...but sleep still avoided us. We arrived at Gatwick ‘knackered’, looking like we hadn’t had a wash in our entire 6 weeks away in the Caribbean. MOG was still dressed in sandals and shorts not quite suitable for a crisp early spring morning taxi drive to Ockley. Undeterred by some surprised looks we drove back to Cheshire in a daze, only to ‘face’ eleven nights of socialising and catching up with old friends, family and found ourselves busy sorting out a few problems at our home, shopping and of course trying to plan the next section of OGGY.

This was interrupted by a ‘holiday’ at a friend’s cottage in Abersoch. Our elder son joined us at Chester and the drive down with an already heavily loaded car must have looked comical as the exhaust system sat barely above the tarmac. FOG loved his company but what a shame the younger one couldn’t come...he then turned up that evening unannounced! Naturally the provisions dried up within a few hours but a happy FOG was first to bed with a smile only a contented mother can muster.

The two boys cooking breakfast

The last of the food was devoured in the morning and was followed by one of those special days walking down beaches followed by tea and clotted cream scones, (have gone soft in the head)! Despite a whole day of continual catching up on everyone’s recent events; many stories remained half told, if at all.

FOG & offspring on beach



The weekend ‘break’ rushed by and we found ourselves preparing for the journey or more accurately ‘tour’ to Sardinia, Sicily and then back to Rome for Mid-June. On our last morning in Cheshire a call from a neighbour, who owns the farm next door, saw MOG dash back for a champagne breakfast…it was ladies day at Chester Races. There he stumbled upon Miss England, dressed resplendent for the occasion. She was not however prepared for the ignominy of being photographed with the one of the OGGY’s...she clearly had not heard of us... and didn’t really comprehend my request for her to become FOG2!

Miss England, or FOG2, meets an ‘unknown’ celebrity...






Rushing back and chatting about my recent encounter, to the somewhat stony faced FOG1; we drove back to France. Then MOG had a spate of forgetful moments. Maps and notes for the forth coming trip were packed away, never to be found; overnight bags left in hotels and MOG found staring aimlessly at the car wondering where he had put a certain vital document. Was this age playing a nasty game or had Miss England bewitched him…

Once again the Channel Tunnel was a dream and we arrived in Troyes with no hotel booking...a bit of an experiment for us... yes, yes, yes we did finally find a tiny annex to sleep in but we weren’t to know it was a French Bank Holiday weekend. This was then compounded by our experience in Avignon. FOG still has a lot more sympathy for the Frogs..., sorry French, than MOG, but for our cousins across the channel that was all about to change.

The next day we arrived in Avignon a lot earlier only to be sucked into the one way system of this delightfully attractive and ancient walled town...for over an hour. We had that afternoon established a hotel right in the heart of the city that did have rooms available at a ‘fair’ rate...well fair for the robbing French b******ds…, sorry, no more insults. Stuck in a one way street the wrong way, but with the hotel frustratingly in sight, FOG leaps out of the car to book-in and ask for help in parking the car. At reception she was informed the room rate had effectively doubled and when she protested she received the Gallic shrug...she returned to the car in a fury; her comments are unprintable. By this time our car had managed to cause almost total gridlock but undeterred MOG called and speaking his best Italian, booked a room at the original rate! MOG then leapt out of the car and ran to the hotel leaving FOG to try and placate several irate French drivers. MOG managed to charm the reception staff telling them all about OGGY and was promptly up-graded to a superior room! However the atmosphere did change when FOG entered the reception…, now if she had been Miss England!

The ancient city of Avignon




Avignon is actually a stunningly beautiful old city and the hotel in question was, in the end, first class...but the lasting memory for MOG was two men kissing, not once, not twice but three times as they met in a bar...will this ever catch on in Cheshire? I HOPE NOT…

I am finding it difficult to find an internet point so please be patient...

The Facts-Old Gits Gap Year Blog hasjust been updated:

http://www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com/