Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson Bicycle touring journals
January 21 Saturday Bicycle touring Italy from Banari Sardinia to St Andria Prui Sardegna
We heated water on the stove and I washed my hair. Shaved too. The ranch house was cold -- the unattended fire having gone out before our return. The amount of security again amazed me. A huge metal gate is locked part way up the hill, another smaller gate before the barnyard is locked, yet another locked iron gate leading into the ranch house patio yard, then, of course, the locked double iron doors of the house! Plus metal shutters! I got tired just opening and closing, locking and unlocking. Slept securely.
We stopped to see Patricia's house on the way out of town. She says she got a real deal on it. It is fixed up very nicely -- a blend of traditional with an old style red rock fireplace from the local area and modern with hot running water and a built-in dishwasher. She bought it three years ago.
Last summer there was a forest fire that threatened the town. I don't know how -- everything is stone. The outside air temperature was 56º C! She says in the summer it is usually around 40º C. Wow. And the houses stay relatively comfortable. (Tony said during the summer even the tourists shouldn't go outside at midday.)
Patricia gave us her address in Italy and her sister's in Ireland. Come and we'll do Venice, she says.
We ride our fully loaded touring bicycles to St Antine where a 4000-year-old Nuraghe ruins are. They call these ruins the Nuraghe Palace. They are the largest of 7000 fortresses on the island. The size of the stones are enormous. I marvel at the engineering feat. It is amazing how all the stones are piled together and haven't collapsed. Although some have cracks in them. It is forty feet high with a number of rooms and tunnel hallways, windows, two large conical rooms with another area built on top. It is scary to be inside. One little pebble....
Next we head off and cycle to prehistoric burial caves at St Andria Prui. We arrive on a gravel road amidst farm and sheep grazing land as darkness falls. A great place for the night, beside burial caves. We follow the road farther and find a spot beneath trees by a creek. Weird high howling winds shriek like banshees through the surrounding hills and caves. It is easy to imagine spirits roaming the sacred burial grounds. It's a long night.
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