9th June - A day in Sardinia's capital

Bali Hai last visited Cagliari in 2009 and Emma has always said that she would never go back as it was the most disgusting marina you could imagine (for some reason she was not overly keen on sharing an uncleaned port-a-loo with a bunch of salty sea dogs) and 2km from the city centre.  So she was not best pleased when she found out that I had scheduled two nights back in there.  However, we arrived (at a different marina) to a lovely welcome with really friendly staff, excellent facilities and a berth right in the middle of the town.

A pattern that you are going to see a lot of during this trip

The first night we explored the old town of Castello, wandering the narrow streets and stopping at pleasant bar for aperitivos.  We then went for a pizza in a local pizzeria recommended to us by a contact of Emma’s who hails from Sardinia.  In recent years we have found that local pizzas are no longer the basic margarita or diavola but have now become more designer creations and at this place it was no exception; my pizza contained pesto and truffle flavoured meat, Emma’s cheese and apple and Richard’s fresh figs.

Exploring Castello (the old town)

The first task the following morning was a trip to the supermarket to stock up for the next leg (another two nights at sea).  Richard, who in all previous outings on Bali Hai, has steadfastly refused to go anywhere near the galley has finally emerged as a promising chef.  On the leg from Sicily he produced a rather excellent salad and on the next leg he actually plans to cook (ie. boil some eggs) and make egg mayonnaise sandwiches.  Richard culinary expertise still has some way to go however, as was illustrated by the fact that the cucumber he bought for his next salad was in fact a courgette.

Richard with shopping and surprisingly close to the galley

In the afternoon we all went for a walk, Richard to a nature reserve to look at flamingos and Greg, Emma and I to Sella del Diavalo, a famous beauty spot.  Unfortunately, the walk was only scenic if run down trading estates are your thing; and then the rain arrived.  Emma and I sensibly turned back but Greg decided to persevere and carry on for nearly another hour to a spot where some beach bars had been recommended.  Sadly, it turned out that all the bars were closed and the only hotel there would not even serve him a coffee and also claimed that they had no toilets.  I was surprised that Greg only wanted a cup of tea when he finally got back to the boat.

In the evening Greg wanted to find a “proper” Italian restaurant that served lasagne and so we headed into town and eventually found one.  Of course, when we sat down and ordered, the lasagne was "finished" and so Greg had to settle for spaghetti carbonara which, for a restaurant that sold spaghetti Bolognese and had a menu in English, was surprisingly authentic and made without cream.

Greg's "proper" Italian restaurant

We returned for an early night as it is to be a fairly early start in the morning for the two and half day journey to Ibiza.


Night time in the marina


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