Paradise and Pride

Tube stops: Termini, Repubblica
Train stops: Civitavecchia
Ferry stops: Olbia (Sardegna)

The revolution has started: with the advent of the Summer heat reducing us all to the working potency of melted jellybabies, yours truly has completed the first of his big adventures outside of Rome.

Thanks to a fellow teacher at Linguarama, me and S found ourselves equipped with a small dog, en route to Sardinia/Sardegna for a short four days excursion to Paradise. Already Puppy was causing swathes of travellers and tourists alike to swoon with affection as we sat on board the train, enscounced in 2nd class cabins with the gentle rocking of the train and low scorched sun-set sending everyone in a trance.

The plan: to head to Civitavecchia by train and from there to take the ferry across to the Olbia on Sardinia, a trip that would be completed under cover of darkness as, in order to save money, me and S decided to board the ferry at 22:00 and sleep through the 8 hours the slow trip takes to arrive on the mysterious island.

After failing to score some legitimate cocktails on board the ferry, we settled for experimenting with a new cocktail the barman introduced us to, that we quicky renamed "Sardinian Lemonade": Cointreau, Lemoncello and Sprite. Surprisingly this did the trick, a little too way as I proceed to recline on the cinema-style arranged rows of seats and snore the entire night through - a trend that was to continue throughout our stay...

The colours in this picture don't do Sardinia justice.
If they did, I would actually be crying right now. And packing.

The first impact that Sardinia has on Joe Tourist is smell. Or the most intense undercurrent of healthy vegetation that an island can boast, seperated as it is from inland pollution. The nasal assault in this case was due to 'Mirtos' or myrtle, which grows in abundance all over the island and is collected to produce the national tipple of choice: 'mirtos', which isn't to everyone's preference: mine being to prefer eating coal laced with vinegar than this. I was more than happy to stick to Casanou wine though, again being locally produced wine.

I slept, dozed under the intense heat on the white sand beach, subjected my pallid complexion to intense radiation in an attempt to turn a shade darker than off-milk. We were joined by two friends of our hosts, making our party literally the Secret Seven, one of which I'm sure included a dog...

Over the course of our stay, I was bitten around 15 times by zinzarri, ate an incredible variety of sea food including sea urchin eggs, normal fish eggs, normal fish (even) pork kebabs (cooked in a primeval, manly way by yours truly), as well as the most amazing tub of local icecream, a special kind of local desert called sebadas, made of pastry and cheese cakes, served with honey and the local bread, which is a bit like a popadom, in that it is as flat as a sheet of paper and brittle. I was in seventh heaven and even though daily bouts of swimming out to a nearby rock inhabited by fiercesome looking sea birds were undertaken, the growth of pancetta around the waistline was slightly unavoidable.

Late night conversation conducted at a roughly-hewn wooden table under the canopy of heaven flitted between the differences between our two cultures: Italian and English. Arguments lubricated with copious amounts of Casanou red-wine included the punctual, organisation-based, community-driven prowess of the English versus our inability to express how we feel ro to relate without alcohol. On the side of the tricolore: a rich, intoxicating quality of life brought down by the single-mindedness and egotism of the Italians. Tutti i due: I'll take both in equal measure.

Out trip came to an end and it was contained within the travelling lounge/apartment of the ferry, that I realised that going back to Rome wouldn't be half so bad than reversing time, waking out of a waking dream and realising I was back in London: half the things I wanted to do undone, half the goals unachieved. Travelling is a matter of parabollas: you never really go from A to B, you just find yourself closer to it or further away from it but never with your back to it.