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February 3 Friday Bicycle touring Italy at another free bicycle camping spot on a hillside along the south coast of Sardinia to a free bike camp spot on Saint Antioc Island Sardegna Saw some unusually frisky sheep as our Sardinian bicycle tour resumed this morning. The sheep weren't the usual timid variety. The herder was pushing them along the road with a little white pickup. Two German Shepherds brought up the rear. Quite often, sheep would turn around and attack the dogs, pawing at them with their front hooves. The sheep jumped on each other a lot too. The worst behaved fold of shaggy muttons we've seen. We were a little concerned as we watched them pass, straddling our fully loaded touring bicycles was little protection. Sharon found our free bicycling camp spot last night. We had a wonderful scenic pedal to Saint Arresi, where we stopped to pick up bread, fruit, and ham and cheese, which entailed my visiting three different stores. As we left town we could see the flat farmland below. Not good for finding camp spots because wherever it is flat there are lots of houses around. Instead of dropping down onto the flat farmland, we looked for a free bicycle camping spot in the hills behind us. We followed one paved road, but it ended at a house so we turned around and tried again. This time we saw a little-used path heading up off the road and followed it. We found an almost level spot on a low maintenance site. It was a large rock that was level with the ground. Many smaller sharp rocks were strewn about for our camping pleasure. I am sure glad we have these camp rests. I could still feel the rocks when I sat on my pad to eat supper. I had a beer while we watched the sun turn brilliant red. I usually don't drink beer at home, but while bicycle touring Sardinia it is great at the end of a long cycling day. We discovered some great fresh pasta. One is ravioli with an interesting tasty meat; the other are small potato balls ensconced in pasta. I have seen the potato pasta in other stores before, but I thought the price was too much to pay for potatoes, so I always resisted buying them. For some reason I picked up a package today and I pleasantly find them well worth the expense. They are a pasta shell filled with pureed potato, reminding me of tiny dumplings, especially when mixed with beans and sauce. Found tuna and peas mixed together in a can, that is good also. We use the tuna-peas as a sauce with soft cheese on our pasta, usually on the first course. On the second course (bicycle tourists eat an incredible quantity of food!), we mix in tomatoes and pasta sauce. A couple of hot chocolates, a kilo of oranges each, and supper is over. In the middle of the night I got up to relieve the pressure on my tiny bladder. The stars were fantastic. Just as I located the big dipper -- craning my head way back, I lost my balance -- but no problem, I'll just lean onto this rock. I put out one hand to steady myself, and instead found out that this is a bush shaped like a rock -- they all look alike in the starlight. The bush held me up before I totally hit the ground. I skinned my finger though and found it was hard to get myself out of the middle of the bush with my feet completely off the ground balancing on this bush with my chest. Lucky it wasn't a thorny one. You look like a bush and smell like one, too. It was fragrant. I was laying face down in this bush. My feet were off the ground and I was getting in touch with nature -- close up. If only I could just get my pecker back in my pants. In the morning we rode off on our fully loaded touring bicycles through farmland. We saw men in the fields picking artichokes. They have a basket on their backs and chop the artichoke off and toss it into the basket. Sardinia must be the artichoke capital of the world. What does one do with those spiny things? We saw a water trough and stopped our Sardinian bicycle tour long enough to wash up. In addition to washing our bodies, we washed our clothes and hair, too. The sun was shining. I hate to wash up when I can see my breath. Everyone in the village must have driven by while we were washing, including two cops and a convoy of army personnel carrying tanks. We were still there when they went back empty, honking and waving to us. Saw some more flamingoes as we cycled across the causeway onto Saint Antioc Island, lazing around the lagoon. Lagoon in Italian is stagno, and by the smells of the lagoon, their word is more appropriate. They call bacon "lardo." Score two for the Italians. Pulled our fully loaded touring bicycles to a stop and ate lunch at a deserted park on one of the few benches in the sun. I bet those shady ones are coveted in the summer. From our lunch spot we cycled to an archeological dig where firstborns were sacrificed to the god Bes. As a firstborn I would like to know who started this? Second-borns? Funerary jars of pottery urns are still scattered about the site. We cycled off and arrived at a bank at 3:37 PM. They had closed at 3:35. Our cards don't work in the auto teller. I try to go inside. Workers are still there. A teller, over an intercom speaker into the cubicle I am in, says "We're close- ed." "When are you open?" "Monday." I laugh. A manager asks, "What do you want?" I take out two credit cards. "Cash advance," I say. He picks up both cards. After looking them over, he throws my Mastercard back on the counter to me. He takes my Visa card over to a teller and asks me how much I want. Five hundred thousand lira. I feel like a millionaire in Italy. The teller takes the card and phones Visa. I say "Grazie." She says, "Don't say Grazie." Shortly she returns and with a smile says, "It's okay." I sign a form, then she takes my passport to write down the number. As she writes down "Edmonton" on the form, off of my passport's address page, she puts her finger on the counter and says, "Vancouver. Where is Edmonton?" I tell her it is right next to Vancouver and tap points on the counter while saying, "Vancouver, Edmonton, Toronto, Montreal." She nods and says her parents live in Vancouver and she is going to visit them in April for ten days. Sometimes it's a small world, even when one is bicycle touring on Sardinia. We head around tiny Saint Antioc Island in a clockwise direction. A road leads to a beach along the coast. Most of the coast is rocky and steep. There are people out picking mushrooms. Finally, we decide on the first beach we saw, above a castle-like building, and set up our two-man bicycle touring tent behind a bush. It is flat, less visible, and less windy. We have a good view of the sea and lights across the water from towns. Ah, the life of a bicycle tourist. |
