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February 7 Tuesday Bicycle touring Italy Sardinia from some military concrete bunkers on the coast of Sardinia past Portoscuso Sardegna to Portixeddu Sardinia Rock and roll! We were bicycle touring on our worst road so far. The road we were cycling made an abrupt turn inland for five kilometres from the town of Masua straight uphill over large sharp rocks. My back wheel kept spinning out in the loose gravel and I became soaked in sweat from the exertion. The awful bicycle touring road continued uphill for 4 1/2 jarring kilometres, then a wrist-breaking half-kilometre down, squeezing my bike's brake levers as tightly as possible, but still going faster than I wanted to before I rejoined the smooth pavement as my fingers had fatigued. We pulled our bikes to a stop and bought lunch at Gonnesa. I picked out two ripe tomatoes, but the shop keeper was dismayed with my selections -- "Old," he said. I bought them anyway, against his many protests. He put in a semi-green one for me at the till. He must have thought I was buying them because the others were too expensive. The green ones are 1000 lira more per kilo than the "old" red ones. At Fontanamare, after being directed to the correct turnoff by following a helpful citizen down the road in their car, we overlooked the sea and ate lunch sitting on rusty iron benches while watching fishermen on a point with their long rods casting into the surf. We passed a motorcycle bike shop. Sharon wanted a new patch kit as our old glue may be dried out. It's been so long since we used it. She was grumpy as I handed her money to check it out. I have been going into all the stores and dealing with the language barrier as she stays with our touring bikes. This was the first time for her in a store in Sardinia. She came back smiling, saying they were so helpful after she made a "shhh" sound of escaping air and pointing at a tire. They didn't understand the word "patch kit" but, interestingly enough, the name on the package and all the instructions of the purchased patch kit are in English (made in Taiwan). At Buggerru we stopped cycling long enough to fill our water jugs. A girl leaving a phone booth on a corner asks, in English, "What time is it?" I answer her, and then Sharon asks, "Where can we get water?" which completely stumps her. We see they teach English in the Sardinian schools the same way we teach French back home in Canada. I guess she was just checking to see if it worked. Down a hill into town a woman was out on her porch. We pulled our touring bikes to a stop again and I asked her if we could get water. She filled our two containers and then asked us if we would like something to drink. I made out the word "orange" and "drink" and nodded my head, thinking we were going to get orange juice. She comes back with a bottle of orange stock liqueur and pours us a thimbleful each, while explaining it is made in Italy. Strong, but good. We cycle past Portixeddu to a scenic dead end road and set up our lightweight bicycle touring tent, overlooking two towns and a beach below. The only problem being: too many people have stopped to urinate while admiring the view. We eat out on a rock ledge. Sharon chases a goat away in the wee hours. |
