Alghero city wall	Alghero street scene	harbour view - from Nettunos restaurant

Saturday 26th July 2003 - [36 degrees]
Woke a second time at around 8-ish and went to breakfast and morning entertainment provided by Lenni and his tricycle on the patio. Antonio chatted to us and Nicola served us coffee, jam, rolls and tea for breakfast. The dogs regarded us with feigned lazy interest. It didn't matter if we were there or not but seeing as we were there, we were surely worth a sniff.

So... off to the beach..

Brown sand, turquoise water and still no clouds.
Had a Sprite and water and surveyed the Mediterranean Sea from the hilltop café. We finished at the beach and drove home for a power nap. We napped right through the screeching, cricket bird noise for what seemed like an afternoon, but was only actually a half an hour and then drove through to Alghero and found a small supermarket. We purchased a few odd and ends and then went to the slurperia aka gelateria for a gelati. I enjoyed slurping on a mint and white chocolate and Elke had a pistachio and lemon. We walked along the harbour and planned a boat trip to the Nettuno caves. We also discovered the fun fair and planned to return later that night. We drove along the coast for a few kilometres, then back to town to park, get a few beers and send a few texts around the world to let people know where we were, whilst we waited for the restaurants to open. We dined at La Lepanto (which is probably a good seafood restaurant) and enjoyed steaks, chips, salads and beer. We drove to the funfair afterwards but it was very second rate and as a result very empty.

We returned home through the harbour where there were people walking, strolling, sitting eating gelati and doing absolutely nothing in particular. We decided to change our schedule in order to attempt to join in the so-called 'festivities' the following day. When we got back to the farm there were insects part-aying everywhere in the room with the main event held in the bathroom. We fell asleep easily enough after turfing the larger of the wildlife out, but were awakened during the night by the dogs chasing wild pigs at the bottom of the hill of the olive grove. It was so hot that we couldn't sleep and so we watched TV until the stations shut down and our lack of understanding of the Italian language bored us to dreamland… where I might add a second wave of strange dreams began to envelope me… I filmed a KISS gig, played Gene Simmons' bass and interviewed him. The weird and vivid dreams I can only imagine must have been the result of the heat.

Words for the day included: staggione - season (as in Quattro staggione or 4 seasons pizza), formaggio - cheese, tre ore - 3 hours (came across this one whilst trying to park the car)

alghero street scene	horse n cart	beach café

Sunday 27th July 2003 - [36 degrees]
Woke at 8:30. The insects from the six-legged rave the night before were gone. Even the corpses of the ones we crushed were gone. Had we imagined them? I peered out of the netted window. There were still no clouds, not even one. The crazy cricket bird and a neighbour's sputtering chainsaw were already providing an introductory soundtrack to the day.

We walked up the little hill around the side of the villa to breakfast armed with a very spicy garlic chorizo sausage. Rolls, honey, yoghurt, coffee (covered in a half an inch of thick, milky froth), tea, jam, sheep and goats cheese were on offer. After a slow and enjoyable feed we went back to our room and, as it turned out, back to sleep. The laziness required to do that is actually quite astounding. Besides it was just way too hot to do anything else.

Managing to drag ourselves out of bed at midday, we left with the intention of spending the day.. or rather the of half the day that was left, at Porto Ferro beach. We motored for half an hour across the island and after a few wrong turns we finally found a very long, brown, sanded beach with lots of grassy algae or seaweed. We slept, swam and sunbathed, read our books in the baking sun and warm sea breeze, drank soft drinks and when we'd had enough, made a beeline for the beach café where we enjoyed ice-cold beer and more icy cold soft drinks. The beer in my hand was a Birra Ichnusa, all 66cl of it. It was a mammoth thing in a big, old, brown bottle. On the back of Elke's Coke it said Bibita Analcoolica - not sure what that meant, but it sounded scary.

All bathed and sunned out, we set off in the heat in search of a possible wine tasting. We found a wine farm called Sella & Mosca. It was huge and we ventured eagerly inside. Upon asking we were told abruptly, "No tasting here!" So, feeling a little peeved, we bought some wine anyway and asked if there were any co-ops or farm shops in the vicinity which perhaps sold olive oil and other local produce. The man looked at me as if I had just stepped off a space ship. "Oil??" he chewed at me patronisingly, and then answered his own rhetorical question, "No… no OIL!"
Well excuse me for asking. So we hit the road again and stopped at something called an Agriturismo farm, which is basically a farmhouse designed to serve local 'rustic style' food to tourists; a somewhat suspicious occupation to say the least. The people lounging outside the farm spoke no English, but the sign said, "Come and eat at 8pm". There was also a crow, which loudly croaked "Ciao" as we left. That also freaked us out somewhat. The sun was approaching five o clock and it cast eerie shadows around the establishment.

We headed back to town for an ice cream. Elke had a huge fruit salad boat and I had a spaghetti ice, which had way too much cream. We then decided to drive to our favourite beach so far: La Esperanza, which was still packed at 5:30pm. We found a spot and I dropped off for the 3rd time that day. I woke up extremely thirsty and went for a walk to get some refreshments. I actually heard someone exclaim "Mama Mia" and chuckled to myself. We swam and paddled and made reservations at the restaurant named "La Speranza" on the beachfront. We drove home for a leisurely shower and then drove back to the beach. It was only a five-minute drive. The restaurant had a homely, country, fisherman, atmosphere and was right on the beach.. I mean like you get sand in your shoes walking up to it.

Speaking of fish, our waiter was an interesting kettle thereof and he was thoroughly pickled to boot. He wasn't just drunk; the dude had probably been binging all day and smelled like an abused brewery. He was an older chap and most probably the owner, but he managed a little English so we forgave his inebriated constitution. He reminded us a lot of 'Manuel' from 'Faulty Towers'. Elke ordered a whole grilled calamari and I opted for little deep fried pieces of the same, accompanied by chips and salad. I asked for a small glass of wine and was served a small bottle instead. Later I asked for a small bottle and was delivered a small glass? I sipped at it bewilderedly. We eventually left the restaurant after a slow, delicious meal. The beach was now empty and there was no moon. We drove home and tried to sleep in the 32-degree plus temperature, but it was virtually impossible. We watched George Lazenby speak rapid Italian in a dubbed Bond movie on television. The dogs went bezerk chasing wild pigs in the dark again, obviously a favourite pastime.

Words for the day: Supermercato - supermarket, ostriches - oysters (although to me the difference between an ostrich and an oyster seems fairly apparent, obviously not to the Italians.)

the tourist	the bobbing boat	the old timer with the cats

Monday 28th July 2003 - [32 degrees]
Woke at 8:00am and watched the Avengers prattle on at each other at warp speed in Italian. The crazy cricket bird must have had voice-ache from the previous three nights exercise and didn't start rasping until after 9am once we were eating breakfast. We didn't go back to sleep for a change and instead drove to town to find parking and hop board our little boat for a trip to the Neptune caves or, Grotto De Nettuno. The boat trip was airy and pleasant and lasted some 15-20 minutes. Stepping off at the other side was nothing short of quite dangerous. Here's why: The boat is sailed into a little kettle of rising and falling water. The gang plank is lowered and has two wheels on the other end. One by one people are hurried across the gang plank, assisted by two helpers at either side. (That's four people to help you get off the boat). The skipper in the meantime does his best to keep the boat idling in exactly the right position so that the plank doesn't fall into the sea. The wheels on the landing end are there because although he is quite skilled at doing this, it is nevertheless rather difficult and the wheels run up and down the landing bank as the people run across to safety. They seem to do it very well, but it's the kind of activity that seems to be begging for an accident. In fact I think in most other countries there would be safety concerns, but in Sardinia if a few of the tourists feel into the ocean, who would really raise an eyebrow. That said, we all made it across and back safely.

The sea caves were cool and slippery, as is the way of sea caves to be. We had to pay a further 8 Euros entry, on top of the 10 Euros we had already forked out for the boat trip. We trouped inside with around 30 other tourists all eagerly videoing away and taking flash photographs. Apparently the grotto was discovered around 1500 AD and used to be lit by torchlight, hence the artificial yellow lighting of today, which makes the stalactites and stalagmites look yellow. However if you use flash photography they will look grey and white, their true colour, in the resulting pictures. We pottered around the dank cave like little hobbits and then took the boat back in the hot sun. Not a cloud in the sky although a phenomenon called "rain" had been forecast for the following day.

We arrived back in the harbour at around 4:30pm and went in search of a much needed ice cream. We stopped at a place recommended to us by Nicola named "Pink". Elke had a lemon and stracciatella and I had a pistachio and melon. Ohhh that melon was delicious. The old lady who served us noticed that Elke was pregnant and struggling with the heat and invited us to sit down a while whilst we slurped on our gelatis. After that we walked some more and found a little tourist trap, which charged us 5 Euros for a Grolsh, and 2.50 for a Coke. Yowser! We made our way back to the supermercato where we purchased drinks, olives, pine nuts and sausage (salami) and drove home.

Then… on to the beach. We had a beer and a swim and some eats and then popped home to wash the sand off our feet and crash for a while. We woke at 10:30pm. Pizza time!… we decided, and after speaking to Nicola and Antonio, drove to town. We found parking and walked along the sea front, which was alive with activity. We had finally got our timing right. We checked out the stalls, which sold everything from incense, and antiques to belts made from horse leather, and eventually sat down at a steak house and pizzeria for a delicious insalata mare, insalata mista, Quattro staggioni and a litre of white wine. There was a one-man band belting it out in one of the side streets and the cool sea breeze was titillating and refreshing. Again there was horsemeat on the menu, which made Elke feel uneasy, but we stayed and enjoyed our meals anyway. Buzzing slightly we walked back to the car buying some nougat on the way. We drove home and stopped outside to look at the Milky Way before going to sleep. There were so many more stars than we are used to seeing from cloudy London and rain was still on the cards for the next day.

Learned no new words, had no memorable dreams.


Tuesday 29th July 2003 - [32-26 degrees]
Woke as usual and I didn't sleep so well but Elke did. Looked out of the window.. Not a cloud in the sky. Where was this so-called rain? No bird noises, just a wild cat fight in the middle of the night. Went to a breakfast of salmon, cheese, and proscuitto ham that we had asked for the night before. Lenni provided naked breakfast entertainment while Blanca served us breakfast and the dogs meandered about lazily looking for shade, or a cool spot, or both, or neither.

We had decided to drive to Bosa, a small town located south along the coast from Alghero. So we hopped into the Opel and took the long and winding mountain road to the smallest and most uninteresting village I have ever had the unfortunate opportunity to discover. We drove around aimlessly for ages and after seeking advice at tourist information found the city 'centro'. We walked through the market, which sold, an assortment of t-shirts, knives, stuffed animals, cheese and sausage. Bought a melon and the market closed at 13:00, so we went to the supermercato, which seemed to be the main attraction of the village. We bought a soda and some beers and chilled on the village square or rather traffic circle.

We drove back home and slept the afternoon away. Nicola was busy refreshing the room when we arrived so we sat in the sun for 15mins and then passed out until after 16:00. Then we woke and went to La Speranze beach for an hour. We found an entrance to the secret parking and upon exit discovered that the parking in the secret parking area closer to the beach than anyone else, was in fact free. But why? It was better parking than the paid parking. Maybe it's because… "The best things in life are free."

Popped back home, changed and headed into town. Did some shopping, visited a little market type thing. Ate cheese, drank beer and then ventured into town to find the spaghetteria where we dined on bolognaise, salad (with cucumber), 2 carafes of red wine and of course dried bread. With no space for ice cream we wondered back through the busy streets and did some shopping. We walked up one street where, as we passed an open doorway, we chanced to see inside the dimly lit room wherein stood an old man in his shorts and vest, surrounded by about 15 cats of all shapes and sizes. The smell, which issued forth from the room, was almost unbearable, animals and stinky old man flesh. I asked him if I could take a picture (and of course I meant of the cats), and he proudly beamed back at me, a toothless grin and stood dead centre of the doorway, obscuring the millions of kitties behind him. So I took the picture anyway, so as not to appear rude. We returned home to bed just after 23:00. Barking dogs and more strange dreams of cheese and tomato sandwich carpets permeated the heat of the night. The temperatures were wreaking havoc on my sub-conscious.


Wednesday 30 July 2003 - [32-26 degrees]
Woke with the roosters at 6:00am. Damn! Double damn! Noisy animals. Went to the breakfast table with our soft melon. Antonio eyed it dubiously. "Is too soft," he said, and disappeared into the house only to re-appear moments later with a melon of his own. "Try this!" he offered proudly. Indeed, his melon was firmer, crisper and sweeter. He gazed on in satisfaction.

We wanted to find the market today as Wednesday is market day. (Local produce). So, we drove to town, found parking on the foreshore and set about tracking down this alleged market. I must add that each day on the drive to town we experienced the phenomenon of the Satanic scooters of Sardegna. These daredevils obey one rule only: Do what you like, just don't hit anything. I have never seen so many near escapes, or blatant disregard for traffic and rules of the road.

Once we had parked we walked right across town searching frustratedly, until we finally gave in and asked someone. The barman drew on the map. We found the vege market with the fish market opposite. Took some photographs, much to the intrigue of local onlookers and bought some giant grapes. Then we strolled down to the supermarket, did some shopping and walked back to the car in the sweltering heat. We later found out that it had been the wrong market, but everything was so small, we weren't to know. We drove past the ice-cream shop and this time I had peach and melon and Elke had pistachio and a lemon/carrot flavoured something called 'Ace'. And indeed it tasted Ace.

We drove home, picked up our costumes and spent the afternoon at the beach avoiding jellyfish and getting sun-kissed, as Elke termed it. After several hours, we returned home very sun-kissed. We lazed about and read some more and then headed into town to hunt down a restaurant. We walked along the promenade, looked in at Pico Loco, the bowling, biereria, gelateria, griglleria and 'metre pizza' snack shop where you can buy pizza by the meter. We looked at about 5 restaurants while the sun set and then opted for the first one we had seen. We dined on bread, crackers, mixed salad, 1 litre of rose wine, shared a spaghetti; Confulho's style with tomatoes, cream & grey mullet eggs which we couldn't see, but were sure we could taste. We shared a mixed grill of fish and fries, scampi squid and sea bream filleted by the waiter at the table. For desert we shared a lemon pie and I had a Mirto liquer, both of which are indigenous to the region. Elke asked what we were going to do about us and the baby and I answered, "Will you marry me?"
"Yes", she replied and added "…it doesn't have to be forever." Funny woman!! So I smiled and said, "If it's not for ever I'm not doing it."

We drove home very happy and fell asleep, but then woke during the night as usual, dogs going crazy, wild pigs snorting and a few unidentifiable sounds which I thought I'd better not try and diagnose.. Scary stuff! Watched Beavis & Butthead in Italian which is hilarious as they speak so much and so fast. Dreamt of a red post box in a shop to which I had the key. I needed to buy deodarant and left £1.40 for a £3.29 stick. A blonde 4 year old tried to bust me by shrieking loudly and some people chased me as I ran from the shop. Glad that was only a dream.

Some observations in general:
Whatever assumptions you make about Sardegna, you are probably wrong.
Everything costs Cinqui cento. Whenever I walked into a shop and asked the price of and item, they always seemed to say the same thing: "Cinqui cento."

An excellent piece of advice:
If you ever find yourself going to a foreign country where the local language is not English, do yourself a favour and at least learn to count in their tongue before you get there.

Words for the day:
A mullet is a fish (but we knew that)
Snails - Monzette
Watermellon - Anguria

scampi	fish - fresh as you like	spiny lobster	night life

Thursday 31 July 2003 - [26 degrees]
Woke with the roosters once again and actually contemplated getting up and taking pictures of the olive farm. Snoozed instead and went to breakfast in the little patio garden punctually at 9am to share assorted cheeses with the cats. We chased flies and wasps as we enjoyed Sardinian hunny, (damn Pooh bear) I mean, 'honey' on bread and mouthfuls of coffee as we spoke to the dogs and cats. I began to really appreciate the subtleties of honey and goats milk cheese. After breakfast I had a little go in the hammock under the shade of the pine trees. Hammocks are kewl dude! In fact, if you get in them just right, they rock! On our way out, Nicola told us we had indeed been to the wrong market and that the real market was just down the road from the house.

The clouds were building, they looked like Simpson's clouds, but we decided upon La Speranza beach anyway. Spent the afternoon on our backs reading and lazing about, but not before we had watched one of those old movies on TV where a Labrador, a cat and a Bull-terrier go on a big adventure in which they fight wildcats, porcupines, get separated, get re-united, get half drowned, fend off bears and then finally all end up re-united with their human family again. What a little heart warmer.

The beach was good but the clouds finally won, although it didn't rain, there was no sun. (That's Dr. Suess right there)

The beach was good,
But the clouds finally won!
Although it didn't rain,
There was no sun!

It hadn't rained for 4 months apparently. We went home and showered and set off shopping. We went first to one supermarket, then to another in search of a few final goodies. Whilst in the first, the woman serving veges wouldn't let us have any big tomatoes. "What do you want them for?" she wanted to ask. In fact all that came out was a little motion, a crazy look and: "Insalata?" "No. We want to make sandwiches." I replied and motioned back, adding my own little crazed look.

"Use these little ones." she motioned, and would hear no more on the subject. She held one out at me to try. Reluctantly I bit into the offensive looking little fruit, and succeeded in spraying the entire display in front of me with a torrent of little tomato seeds. Man those things were tough. They had skins like leather, but boy were they tasty. "Mmmmmm…" I hummed. Okay so we finally opted for the little ones she wanted us to have.

On to the meat counter...

The butcher gave us several pieces of chorizo type pepperoncino salami to try. Yum! In fact we had bought some previously and had been trying to get hold of more of the same as it was thoroughly delicioso, but we hadn't been able to find it again. We had no problem finding parking that day and the next stop on our little shopping agenda was the foreshore and cheese, beer and sausage market. We decided on some pepperoncino sausage and a large round goats milk cheese. Then we stopped off for some beers, or rather we stopped off and I had some beers while Elke watched. We walked through to the square behind the harbour and shopped for oil, postcards, biscuits, etc. Then back to the cheese stall to purchase the happily chilling cheese. Naturally I needed to stop and sample the beer one last time.

Next, on to the restaurant with the lobsters. The sun had set earlier and it was time to eat. We entered and enjoyed a sumptuous meal which featured guest appearances by seafood salad, insalata mista, spaghetti all algerese with capers, clams (sandy little buggers clams, at the best of times), olives and fresh oregano. Elke had spaghetti de mare with clams, scampi, calamari and squid. Two Peroni beers for me and a glass of water for Elke, fresh bread and voila! Excellento! There was no room for ice cream, so we headed back to the farm and fell asleep. The strange dreams came thick and fast, but there were too many to remember. A dog went nuts in the distance during the night and at some stage there were footsteps outside the window, but I was too tired to pay any attention.

the city peninsula	Grotto De Nettuno aka Neptune caves	hammock on the grove

Friday 1 August 2003
Alarm woke us at 7:30. We packed the cheese and sausage factory into our bags. Had some breakfast, made a very happy Lenni by giving him a kinder chocolate. We signed the guestbook and said farewell. A leisurely drive to the airport where we dropped off the Opel and checked in separately to avoid weighing our hand luggage which contained the aforementioned grocery factory. We queued, got searched, queued, waited and boarded the plane for London.

As usual it was good to get back and spring Pandora from her lodgings at the vet. Actually we discovered that being the little charmer she is, they are in the habit of letting her out of the cage to stretch her legs and keep them company. Well, as long as she's happy…

Ciao!