BUDGET:

Flight $800
Bike Luggage Supplement $80
Ferry RT €95.80
Train RT €60
Campgrounds €208
Hotel in Cagliari €50
Room in Stintino €50
Meals, Food, Expenses €1000
Scuba €90
Bike Equipment $200
Extra Equipment $100
TOTAL $3200

WISHLIST FOR NEXT TIME:

Full Length Thermorest
Odometer
International Cell Phone

THINGS I DIDN'T NEED:

Only 1 Spare Intertube
Only 1 Patch Kit
Screwdriver (Redundant with Leatherman)

THINGS I SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT:

Bigger Towel
Blanket or Sleeping Bag
Full Bottle of Sunscreen
Lip Balm
Skin Cream
Mask & Snorkle
Map of Camping Facilities (can be found online at www.faitasardegna.org or www.faitasardegna.it
Michelin Map
Repaired Tent
Bar of Soap + Shampoo + Laundry Detergent
Bactine
More Bandaids
Nail Clippers
1 More Book

CONCLUSION

The highlights would have to include those mountain passes, and the curvy roads wrapping around the sea. Screaming down those hairpin downhills with incredible views of rocky capes and indescribably beautiful coves. Being out there surrounded by all that beauty, experiencing it in the round. Being on a bike is so much more immediate than being in a car. As the New Zealander said, you have to earn your views on a bicycle. There's something to that. The experience is quite special.

I never really did fit into the Italian schedule of things here. I usually did my sightseeing during chuisora, Italian siesta time. I headed to the beach typically when everyone else was leaving. I went out to dinner generally hours before everyone else. I visited Cagliari when it was literally empty. What can I say? I had to plan much of my biking around the heat of the day. The sun was too strong for me to sit exposed on the beach in the afternoon. And, I'm not Italian.

There were no serious problems or mishaps to speak of. I had no major mechanical failures. I never even had a flat tire! There were no serious injuires. I had no major losses. There were never even any bugs!

The training in Bassano was smart. It put all the Sardinian hills and mountains in perspective.

The iPod was a great asset, as was the hammock.

I reckon I travelled 1000Km.

8/16 DAY 17: THE FERRY HOME

As I leave Sardinia I feel sad. I wish that I could have completely circled it. I heard that Barbagia was beautiful. I would have needed four more days. I should have planned my trip better from the start. The entire island is totally doable in twenty days, including taking time out for sightseeing, swimming, and frolicking. That being said, this is the longest I've stayed on any Mediterranean island. My stays on Crete, Cyrus, and Sicily were much shorter. I got a good feel for much of this place, and I enjoyed it. As for bicycle tourism- I like it. Next time I'll have to bring along a partner. It's good to have a relatively small area to cover, like an island. I'm already scheming- perhaps Ireland will be next.

Oh it kills me to sail by the coast I didn't get to. It's back to business, back to reality for me.

I had way too much limoncino to drink last night. I woke up in the middle of the night, parched for water. I moved inside the ferry and slept until morning.

8/15 DAY 16: CAGLIARI

I headed into Cagliari today. I left the campground by 9 and was smack in the center of town by 11. The oncoming traffic was thick as residents fled the city in droves. Cars were lined up for miles like a string of smog belching pearls. I approached the industrial part of town on a four lane highway and rode through the obligatory tunnel. Cagliari was like a ghost town. I had it completely to myself. Everything was closed. I got myself a room in the center of town, and then rode around for a few hours exploring. Cagliari sits on a big bluff, on top of which stands a massive fortress. The hill slopes down to the busy port. There are lots of narrow windy streets in the center of town. It's very pleasant. That evening I found a nice outdoor cafe to have dinner. I'm gonna miss the seafood here.

8/14 DAY 15: WINDING UP

My trip is winding up. It's a rather anticlimactic end. I'm a stone's throw from Cagliari, only 30Km away. I rode only two hours this morning to get to Pula. The ride along the southern coast was spectacular. I wound around curving roads atop huge cliffs towering above the turquoise sea below. There were Spanish era towers on every cape. But then I hit Strada Procinciale 195 and things got unpleasant. The terrain flattened out and the upscale resorts began. So did the traffic and the hiigh prices. The oncoming traffic was endless, proceeding like a stalled parade for miles. Tomorrow is Fierra Agosta- a huge holiday in Italy. People were obviously fleeing Cagliari. I found my campground, set up my tent, and headed to the cafe where I purchased a copy of the Herald Tribune and a couple of beers. In the heat of the afternoon I headed over to nearby Nora, the largest Punic - Roman ruin in Sardinia. It featured many mosaic pavements, still intact, and a huge Spanish era tower. Afterwards I headed to the beach for my last bath in the Mediterranean. I'll head to Cagliari tomorrow for my final night on the island.

8/13 DAY 14: PORTO TEULUDA

I've rounded the corner and I'm headed for home. The sun now sets over the mountains instead of the sea. I have two more nights in Sardinia. I'm now only 90 Km from Cagliari, my final destination. I'm slowing down and preparing for the end of my trip. Today was an easy ride out of San Antioco and around the southern part of the island. I met an Italian girl this morning who was cycling around half the island with a friend. She had done the New York Five Borough Bike Tour last May. It was a three hour trip today under cloud cover. I could have gone so much further. At noon, the sun came out in full force as I arrived at the campground. I took a nap in my hammock, followed by a lunch of olive bread, pane carasau, and beer. I miss having a book to read. I should have brought three. Afterwards I hit the beach- or rocks actually, which I prefer. First I tried the south side of the bay and followed the sun north. I shared my perch for over an hour with a spoonbill who was busy grooming itself. I considered swimming out to the island, a large rock formation resembling a sleeping giant about a 1/2 mile off shore. After my experience the other day, I couldn't convince myself, especially considering I'd have to swim back. But it was tempting.

8/12 DAY 13: S ANTIOCO & S. PIETRO

I got up at 8 and went and did my laundry. My biking outfit was filthy. My towel and other clothes needed a good washing as well. After some initial problems getting the machine to work, I headed down to my rock for breakfast. The watermelon I had hauled here turned out to be not so good. But I enjoyed the pecorino and olives. I went for a swim and then headed back to hang my laundry. I returned to my rock and finished my book, 'Indecision', by Benjamin Kunkel. The first book I read, 'Me Talk Pretty One Day', by David Sedaris was better. I did some snorkeling and some cliff jumping, and then I folded my laundry and headed off towards Isola San Pietro.

San Antioco is large. It's about the same size as Staten island. It took awhile to get to the ferry terminal, and the ferry was pulling out just as I arrived. I had an hour and a half to kill until the next one, so I rode around the charming little town of Calasetta and had a couple of beers. The island of St Pietro was so much nicer than San Antioco, just like the guidebook had said. The terrain is more mountainous with cliffs and rock formations wrapping all around the coast. And finally the fig trees were ripe, which completely made up for the bad watermelon. Oh how I love eating figs straight from the tree!

After touring St Pietro I returned to the port of Carloforte, a beautiful little town. I wavered in indecision whether to stay there for dinner or not. The tuna was supposed to be excellent here. The restaurants weren't open yet, and a ferry was just about to depart. The next ferry wasn't scheduled to leave until 10. I would still have ground to cover back on San Antioco. I bought a ticket and quickly jumped aboard - the wrong boat. I watched in horror as the boat veered toward Sardinia instead of San Antioco. The ticket taker found me onboard, having realized his part in the mistake. He suggested that I take the ferry back to San Pietro and then take the next boat to San Antioco. I opted to get off in Sardinia and then bike the 25Km as penance for not asking the obvious when I boarded. When I disembarked I rode through some of the ugliest most industrial areas I had seen on my trip. I hate riding when I've made a mistake, especially on my day off. It got dark and all I had was my tail light. My front light was tied to the dome of my tent. It took what seemed forever to get back to San Antioco. I was so hungry. All I could think about was the tuna on San Pietro. Once I hit the island it was another 12Km to the campground. I was now cycling in complete darkness. I hadn't seen the moon since I left Alghero. When the road markings ended I had to pull out my flashlight for the last 3Km or surely loose the road entirely. I was brushed by a motorcycle passing a car. The silver lining was the shooting star, a big one I witnessed, sailing to the ground not far from me.

8/11 DAY 12: A LONG RIDE

I've left Sardinia. I'm technically now on Italy's fourth largest island, Isola San Antioco. It's the furthest southwest I'll get on this trip. I'm now closer to Africa than mainland Europe. I've completely toured the entire western Sardinia coast, from Stintino all the way down. It's been absolutely beautiful, and so different from place to place.

Today was a long ride. I was out of the campground by 7:45 and back up into the mountains an hour later. It was a 120Km trip under cloud cover, making it easy. I consumed only 1-1/2 liters of water. More than half of the trip was through mountains. I went over two passes, both around 550 meters. That's not much compared to northern Italy, but they add up nonetheless. I stopped at two spots along the way. First I visited the temple of Antas. It was only recently discovered, and so charming in that magic mountain valley. It was the best Roman ruin yet. The temple inspired me to backtrack to the Grotta de su Mannau. The link between western philosophy / architecture to caves being so apparent. The grotto was impressive. It was huge, and still geologically active. It would have been fun to have taken the wet suit tour. What is it with me, such a tall guy, and my interest in caves?

Following the cave, it was a long ride to Iglesias, where again I got lost, but fortunately only briefly. I hate how they do the directions here. I'm on a bicycle and couldn't be going any slower. How could I possibly lose a main road, Strada Provinciale number 126? I had the entire route and all of the towns along the way memorized. Yet every time I enter a big town, all of the roads converge into the center and it becomes practically impossible to leave town in the right direction. I had even asked someone if I was going the right way. At least I didn't go too far out of the way. Southwest Sardinia is totally economically depressed. It's farm and former mining country. My guide book covers the mining story well, and I found it is so true.

I arrived at the campground after 6PM. The last 20Km were challenging, probably in part to the fruit shopping I did before I reached Isola San'Antioco. I'm completely nuts. I bought a watermelon and strapped it to the top of all the other crap I had back there. It's a wonder I didn't break anymore spokes.
It's so absolutely beautiful here on the southern side of this island. There's a whole array of sunbathing rocks and the snorkeling is superb. I'll stay two nights here so I can finish my book. I also want to visit neighboring Isola San Pietro. I'm camped about 50 meters from the water's edge. After I watched the sunset from the rocks, I returned to my hammock where I laid for two hours watching the colors in the sky fade to black, stars appearing from nowhere.

8/8 DAY 11: LA COSTA VERDE

The Italian cyclists were gone this morning before I awoke. I climbed out of my tent at 9 and decided to take the day off. I wanted to enjoy the Costa Verde. It's not solely a bike trip I'm doing. It's a comedy of errors and a holiday. Sometimes you've got to stop and smell the roses. I'm meeting cyclists more ambitious than myself and it's only natural to measure up. The non-cyclists I've talked to are impressed with what I'm doing. I wish I was doing the whole island, but I insist upon seeing and doing everything I want along the way. I want to see all of the out of the way places, and believe in taking time off to read or swim or just lie in my hammock. I would need another week to encircle the island at this pace.

It's really windy here. I guess that explains the huge sand dunes. It's some kind of local variant of the Mistral. It was a nice cool breeze up in the mountains yesterday. Here on the coast the temperature is always in flux. I had to wear a jacket last evening, but in the middle of the night I awoke in a sweat. I had to open up the tent. The wind had completely stopped. During the day the wind is so strong that I've had to reinforce my tent to prevent it from blowing away or complete collapse. I had to stake down the corners and anchor them with rocks. On the side facing the wind, I've had to rig lines attached to another stake and stone anchor. Inside the tent I rigged a flexible support using a bungie cord and duct tape. I'm disappointed with this tent. The inside ties that are supposed to secure the poles in place have all fallen off. This tent was last used for a very rainy camping trip in the Adirondikes. The water dissolved much of the interior work. I suppose I could turn the tent into the wind, but then it wouldn't fit into the rather suburban campground plan. Plus, I enjoy the challenge.

This afternoon I almost drowned. I made my pilgrimage down to the beach, Piscinas, to test the water. As mentioned, it was particularly windy and the breakers were big, even by Atlantic Ocean standards. Only two people were in the water, and they were only up to their knees. The red flag at the lifeguard station might have been an indicator, but no one yelled or whistled in my direction as I headed out into the surf. The water temperature was perfect and the sea floor was smooth sand. I had to really swim hard to get out to the breakers. It reminded me of the movie Castaway, and the impossibility he faced getting past a certain point. Once I got out there though, I realized how huge the waves were. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but I swear they were twelve foot swells. I had no idea this sea could muster up so much fury. I was terrified, and I wanted to get back. At this point the waves were crashing down on me and I was getting tumbled around and having to hold my breath. I was starting to take on water and I started to panic. I was hoping those two boys playing soccer on shore whom I think were lifeguards would swim out and rescue me. But what would that look like to all the people on the beach? I had to get myself back. So I swam hard and tried not to panic, but kept getting tumbled and kept taking on water. Finally I was able to touch the sandy bottom again with my feet. With further great difficulty I got myself back to shore. I tried to compose myself as I walked over to my bike and pulled out my towel. That scared the hell out of me!

There were big puffy clouds in the sky this evening as the sun set with tremendous purples and oranges. I headed up to the rustic and charming restaurant, which contrasted the dusty campground. The staff here is friendly, and the food and prices are good.

8/9 DAY 10: A WRONG TURN

Today was supposed to be an easy day. But I made a wrong turn and accidentally headed up into the mountains. I finally made it to my beautiful dune-side desitnation on the Costa Verde (Green Coast), but did I ever take the extreme long way. I slept like a baby last night, not even noticing until dawn that my air matress valve was wide open. I slept in and then moved myself to the hammock when the tent got hot. I had myself a cappuccino and pastry before packing up. It was fresh socks day today. I was out of the campground by 10. It was supposed to be a short day.

I headed down the coast to Maceddi and found the long narrow bridge across the bay. I stopped a little roadside stand and stocked up on olives, sun dried tomatoes, and delicious little peppers stuffed with tuna, capers, and something else that I didn't understand. I headed over towards the coast, hit a beach and a dead end. No one was able to help me find my way south. I could see another town further down the coast, but couldn't take my bike down the beach. The wheels got bogged down in the sand. I cut away from the beach and followed a rocky dirt track up a steep hill. I had to get off and push my bike. It was either this or turn back. I finally hit an asphalt road going south and assumed I was headed in the right direction. There weren't any road markers. The problem was the combination of maps I was using. Instead of going to the Marina of Arbus, I went to Arbus. Up, up, up into the mountains I went. I ran out of water during my ascent, but an ice cream stand miraculously appeared out of nowhere. I was able to stock back up on cold frizzly plus have a little treat. It was my second six liter day in a row. I went over Mount Vecchio and down into Arbus with the flattest depressing plains visible off towards the east. I passed all sorts of abandoned mining operations that I had read about in my guide book. But where was the coast and my campground? I ended up having to enter the Costa Verde the way I had planned to leave.

I now find myself in a place that's very difficult to get to. And it's gonna be tough getting back out of here again. There's a lot of squiggly lines on the map between here and my next destination. At least I had a cool sea breeze the whole day today. It never truly got hot. It's just frustrating knowing that I had taken a wrong turn and instead went through a huge mountain range. Oh well. I finally reconnected with the coast. I met up with two Italian cyclists, a man and a woman from Mantova, who were cycling the whole island. They're camped not far from me here in this windy dusty campground. It's a totally different scene than two nights ago. It's a steep dirt track down the mountain, and campers can't get here. The people here are younger, more hip, and actually quite good looking. The restaurant and grounds are beautiful. The views of the sea through the dunes and the pretty green hills are charming. The scrubby macchia seems so much softer and greener than I know it is.

8/8 DAY 9: CHASING ROCKS

I pulled out of the campground at 9AM. I didn't pull into the next one until 8PM. It was a long crazy day. I'm exhausted, sitting in a restaurant with seafood on the way. The first carafe of beer is already in front of me. The day was spent chasing old piles of rocks. My first point of interest was Tharros, a Punic, Phoenician, Roman ruin at the end of a long beautiful cape which juts out to frame the north end of the bay of Oristano. I had heard that Tharros wasn't much more than a pile of rocks, which turned out to be a pretty accurate description. But the setting was remarkable. I rode through vineyards on my way out the cape. The grapes were ripe for the picking. I started with the sweet green and moved on to the the bitter plump purple. I was literally riding down the road with clumps of grapes in both hands. There's an old tower that overlooks Tharros. I had my midday's meal in it's shadow overlooking the rocky coast and clear blue sea. I finished up my pecorino and moved on. The next leg would prove more vexing.

I ventured back inland and uphill. I sought the Nuraghe Losa, one of the most impressive on the island. Nuraghes are 4000 year old structures which dot the island. There are over 7000 of them in Sardinia, many of them no more than a pile of rocks. Archeologists don't know who build these things or why. This one almost killed me getting to it. It was a steady uphill through cow pastures and olive groves. I chose small roads to avoid the four lane highway, and I got lost once. There was no breeze or cloud cover to protect me from the searing 95º heat- only the shade of an occasional olive tree. I went through six liters of water, and my supply kept getting hot. Oh how I hate drinking hot water to cool myself off. I had to stop briefly because I thought I'd pass out. I finished off my peaches with hot water. Almost there I met two fellow cyclists, German priests who were cycling around Corsica and Sardinia. They were cutting up through the hot interior north to Alghero. They hoped to make Bosa by nightfall. They were sleeping in campgrounds and on church grounds. My final stretch to the Nuraghe Losa was by no choice the four lane highway. I finally arrived, and it was worth it. It was the best Nuraghe I had seen by far. At first glance it was simplistic. Once inside I realized how complex the thing was. The interior was like a roughly hewn Richard Sera Torqued Ellipse created out of boulders.

The people in Oristano province are so friendly. I get to use my Italian, and it's inexpensive. It's not as beautiful as up north in Gallura. The city of Oristano is like Omaha. It's cow country here. I didn't want to take the four lane highway back to Oristano, so I found an alternate route through Fordongianus. I was dead tired by this time, but what was I gonna do? I briefly visited a Roman bath ruin. There was water streaming out of the hill into a pool of water. I don't know what I was thinking. I was delirious.The signs all read Thermal Baths. But it was hot out and I was hot. My instincts told me to put my hands into the water to cool off. Ouch! The water was scalding hot! They obviously didn't get that much business this time of year. I busted a rear spoke leaving the ruin. This could evolve into a major problem, and I'm gonna have to keep an eye on it. I could repair it with baling wire or take my bike to a shop. If three or four go, I'm in trouble.

I had a head wind wind all the way back into Oristano. Just my luck. Almost into town I was tempted to buy a watermelon, but had the better sense to head to bar instead. I ordered a small beer and a large frizzly water to go. I finished my beer and headed into town. I didn't care for Oristano. It's a big industrial town. There's a nice central area, but the surrounding areas, including the port, were unpleasant and fetid. All I wanted was to find a place to sleep so I peddled and peddled down the road. I finally found the next campground and set up my tent.
I'm sore, but sated. What a great meal I just had. I still have a while to go on my second carafe. Tomorrow will need to be an easier day.

CAMPING ITALIAN STYLE

You've got to love the way Italians camp. They take it seriously, and they bring everything. The campgrounds here have electricity. Cords can be found running everywhere. In Alghero I noticed a group seated semis circle in wicker chairs around a large color television. But here in Nuropolis the set-ups are even more elaborate. The televisions are connected to satellite dishes. Many campsites have refrigerators and even washing machines. I watched an elderly woman working away on a sewing machine. Everyone is jabbering away on a cellphone. The hair dryers are all a roaring come evening before dinner time. People come fully equipped. They build tarped canopies over their campsites and create verandas which are closed with blinds and shutters. They bring it all. And one just has to marvel at the tightly synchronized eating times and itineraries. Italians are so funny!

8/7 DAY 8: DOWN THE WEST COAST

With very little sleep I awoke early to the snoring German guy two feet away. Rather than roll back over, I got up, packed, and was on the road by 8:30. I stopped for a little snack of grapes an hour later atop a tall seaside cliff, with Capo Caccia now far in the distance. I rode hard to Bossa, meeting two cyclists along the way. Ian was from New Zealand and Rebecca from Switzerland. They were doing the whole island on bike and public transportation. Ian had done a lot of bicycle touring and was rather politically opinionated. He knew a lot about bikes and was more familiar with mine than I was. He was impressed, and of course, loved my bumper stickers. They were also on mountain bikes, which can handle just about anything - even the cobblestone alleyways of beautiful Bosa, my first destination.

I really hadn't been expecting anything, but was pleasantly surprised. Bosa is a densely packed town which runs along the Temo river. The houses are stacked upon one another in between narrow lanes running up the steep hill to the castle. There were other tourists here, but it was nothing like Alghero. I had my lunch up on the castle walls while gazing down at the terra cotta rooftops below. Afterwards I went looking for a supposed old Roman bridge. I couldn't find the bridge, so I continued south climbing an enormous hill that I had been warned about by the Dutch cyclist. I rode through the heat of the day. The road veered away from the coast and just kept going and going. I went through 4-1/2 liters of water! Fortunately there were a few clouds in the sky. Finally I hit a steady downhill that took me down into Oristano province. I rejoined the coast, and there in the water appeared new kinds of rock formations. They were smooth and sculptural like Brancusi. I settled into a very spacious and friendly campground. I ended the day down at the beach watching the sun set with a couple of Ichnusas, pane carasau and pecorino.

8/6 DAY 7: ALGHERO

I'm enjoying the refugee camp with a good sense of humor. I don't plan to spend much time in my hammock, but the restaurant is cheap and there are lots of fellow travelers to talk to. I had a cappuccino this morning coupled with a danish. I'm learning how to roll with the best and worst of these campgrounds. I swam out to the jetty and stood out there on those rocks looking into the cool clear water and back towards the beach. It's a rather perfect beach, with smooth white sand and clear blue water. My rocky perch requires only a short swim.

My refugee camp has become paradise. I guess it's a matter of putting a positive spin on things. I cleaned up my little campsite and tended the little plant on my tent stoop. I cleaned up people's garbage, netting wine glasses and laundry detergent. I rested in my hammock reading in the shade of the pine trees. When I got tired of reading I walked 200 feet to the beach and swam out to the rocks. I'm surrounded by beauty and give myself whatever I want.

My Birkenstocks died this afternoon. I knew they wouldn't make it through the trip. Rather than buy a new pair for the trip and ruin them along the way, I opted to go forth with what I had. That was pretty much my approach with all of my provisions. I'd been riding in my Birkenstocks the entire trip until the other day on my way into Alghero. I switched into my Converse for a more trendy entry. Crammed inside my panniers, the Birkenstocks literally fell apart. I had bought these sandals two years ago from my neighbor Jim Fleming at a sidewalk sale. I retired them here in a brief ceremony in my favorite piazza. They were replaced with a trendy pair of flip flops which should get me through the rest of the trip. I also swapped out my Converse shoelaces for good measure. I purchased a snorkeling mask and took out 500 Euros for the journey south.

The campground offered quite a bit of socializing. I met a Dutch guy named Robert who had cycled the island in nine days. Now I want to do that! I'm not sure if he completely followed the coast, but he said he didn't take any breaks or do any sightseeing. He also rode through the heat of the day to take advantage of the Italian chuisora (siesta) and lack of road traffic.

I settled into my hammock that evening with a beer in one hand and a limoncino in the other. I had one one side of me a group of Italians playing drinking games with bottles of wine lining the table. On the other side of me sat two English girls reading and drinking beer, a queue of empty bottles behind them. I introduced myself to the girls, who it turned out were from London and had just finished art school. We went into Alghero for a wonderful meal and, of course, plenty of beer. The next thing I knew it was 2:30 in the morning.

8/5 DAY 6: SCUBA DIVING & INTO ALGHERO

I got up early, packed up, and was out of the campground by 8:30. I took a rather circuitous route. I should have checked my map before leaving. I headed to Capo Galeria to go scuba diving. Sardinia is one of the best diving spots in the world. I'd be a fool to pass up such an opportunity. My instructor's name was Antonio. It was a bit more of an official course than my experience 20 years ago down in Mexico. The water was completely transparent. At ten meters down it was chilly, even with a wet suit. It was magical. I felt like I was like flying.

Afterwards it was a quick jaunt to Alghero and the campground Mariposa, on the outskirts of town. This campground was like a refugee camp. I'm surrounded by Germans frying pork. Everyone's tents are hemmed in. Thin colorful fabric is all that separates me from the snoring Germans. I didn't intend to spend any time here. At least the beers were cheap.

Alghero is enchanting. It's like a giant fairy-tale sandcastle. It was completely vacant during the heat of the day, but at 5pm everything came to life. I found a nice piazza to have a few beers, pecorino, and pane carasau. The people watching was superb. I caught a religious procession through one of the city gates. Later I rode my bike all over the place. It's a small town and I rode from one end to the other and then back again, taking it all in until it got dark. It's fun riding when it's cool and I'm not carrying a heavy load. I can cover a lot of ground quickly.

8/4 DAY 5: FINALLY IN THE SWING OF THINGS

I'm taking the day off. I'm riding over to the cave and that's it. I'll stay here again tonight. Tomorrow will be a short trip to Alghero where I again plan to spend two nights. I'm sore and tired, but I slept well last night. I'm running out of Euros and need to conserve cash until I can get to an ATM.

I picked the hottest time of the day to ride to the cave, Grotta di Nettuno, for the contrast in temperature. It was indeed cool down there in that beautiful enchanting place. At the end of Capo Caccia there are some 600 stairs down along a cliff to the sea cave entrance. The ride there and back was great, with no load and a freshly greased chain. I raced like a madman. It's so incredibly beautiful here. The unspoiled coast continues around every cape and cove.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in my hammock with provisions of beer, pecorino, and pane carasau. I ate, read, wrote in my journal, and relaxed. Two hours before sunset I headed down to the beach for a swim. The water was so cool and refreshing. I climbed up on my rock and watched the sun descend over the horizon. Afterwards, I proceeded up the hill and sat there for another two hours on the edge of a cliff. This is when I most enjoy the sea. The colors on the horizon were spectacular and I had the place completely to myself.

8/3 DAY 4: R&R

I slept so well last night. It was completely replenishing. I awoke to the seven chimes from the bell tower, got up, shaved, and was packed by 8AM. I gave the keys back to Anna. She wouldn't let me take her picture. Then I was off. I didn't have breakfast until I found blackberries. They literally line the roads of Sardenia. I had plotted the shortest route to Capo Caccia avoiding the main roads. It was a beautiful ride. I passed through the smallest villages. The nicest lady at the supermarket offered me cold frizzly water. I've taken a liking to frizzly water- frizzante in Italian. Things cost nothing in the interior.

I arrived at the three star campground just before noon. We had our laughs at the front gate. I guess not too many people arrive by bicycle. I set up my camp and dutifully did all my laundry. Then it was down to the market for some pane carasau, pecorino cheese, and a big bottle of beer. I headed back to my hammock for the good life. I stayed there all afternoon. This morning I had noticed patterned sunburn on my chest, meaning that I needed to start wearing sunscreen underneath my clothes. I also noticed chaffs on the bottom of my feet and saddle sores. This trip is totally doable. I started it by stretching my legs and covering ground. I regret not having spent the night in Palau. It was nice there. From now on I'll plot my itinerary around campgrounds.

I'm right outside of Capo Caccio, a huge rocky cape that bulges out into the sea. There's a cave there which I'll visit tomorrow. I'm camped in a small cove called Torre del Poricciolo, named after the Spanish tower which stands guard there. I went for a swim and then sat on a rock while watching the sun set. The panorama was beautiful and all mine to myself. After a hike up to the tower to watch the blue waves crash into the rocky coastline I went out for some fish (finally!) and a couple of beers. This place is setting me back. Time to hit a supermarket.

8/2 DAY 3: THE LONG HAUL

The early bird today didn't have to pay for camping. I left before the office opened. I felt bad. I'll have to check office hours or pay the night before from now on. I'm an outlaw here already. I headed down the coast to Castelsardo which I knew I'd enjoy. It's an old Genovese fortified city set on a cliff which extends out into the sea. Beautiful. I rode to the top of the town and then climbed the castle. I could see Porto Torres off in the distance. I was unable to find the perfect cafe so I moved on. I passed a group of cyclists from Milan who had just begun their trip. I peddled hard to Porto Torres. It was hot and I was hungry when I arrived, so I stopped for lunch. I had a nice big salad and a cold beer. Afterwards I was tired. I had heard the road ahead was hot and sparse so I turned back a few kilometers to a pine grove I had spotted on the way into town. I strung my hammock in the trees and slept for two hours in the cool breeze. When I awoke it was time to continue. I went back through Porto Torres and visited a Roman ruin on the west side of town. There I rode my bike across an old Roman bridge. I passed through the industrial zone and hit a head wind my last 20 km into Stintino, a small fishing village at the northwest part of the Island. There were great beaches here, but nowhere to camp. I rented a room from a lady down the street from a booked up bed and breakfast. It set me back 50 euros, which I reckoned was pretty good. I desired a nice seaside dinner. There was no seafood, but an excellent local type of lasagna. It's beautiful here, but unfortunately I feel like I should head south towards camping facilities. I got a map of all the campgrounds in Sardinia from the tourist office. It's like the rosetta stone. I'll plot the rest of the trip around these. I'm tired of my bike tonight. I'm looking forward to my big comfy bed. I'm covering ground too quickly. It's time to slow down.

8/1 DAY 2: THE NORTHERN COAST

I awoke and decided to change my itinerary. I'm heading back to the coast. It's too hot to be out in the sun between noon and 4PM. I need good places to relax during this down time and nothing beats the cool Mediterranean. The sites in the interior aren't worth the grueling heat. After packing up my camp and eating many more handfuls of blackberries I headed back north to the coast. In the shadow of an old Spanish tower overlooking the aquamarine waters of Santa Theresa, I enjoyed the cantaloup I had brought from Genoa. Santa Theresa is nice. It's more down to earth than Porto Cervo and it's got plenty of history and character. For my siesta I headed over to Capo Testa (testa meaning head), a huge granite outcropping that juts out into the sea. I found a place in the shade to curl up after my swim. Surely I have found paradise. Changing out of my swimsuit I stubbed my toe so bad the nail was ripped out. This granite is unforgiving. I had to climb back up the cliff back to my bike before I could administer first aid. My first puncture. Afterwards I rode west, putting Capo Testa in the distance. Corsica was clearly visible across the water. I finally stopped at one of the small cheese stands I'd been passing. What a treat! I loved the sweet pecorino cheese. I had a nice little dinner there before continuing on along the coast. I went through a pine forest and through countless cow pastures with ever abundant blackberries. With Castelsardo in reach for tomorrow, I pulled into a campground. There I enjoyed a shower, a shave, a recharging of my iPod and a couple of cold beers.

7/31 DAY 1: THE EMERALD COAST

The ferry pulled into Olbia at 7AM and I immediately set out to explore the town. Everything was still closed, so I headed out, first in the wrong direction, and then north towards Porto Cervo. The scraggly granite mountains here are beautiful. It reminds me of Baja California or northern Mexico. I rode into the luxury resort of Porto Cervo. The jet set yachting thing isn't my scene at all. This is how most people probably associate Sardinia. At least it's subdued. I found a beautiful little beach south of town where I took my first swim. The cool clear water really was emerald. Afterwards, I wound my way around the cape to Palau. There were so many beautiful spots along the way. I managed to slice my headphone cord and dent my luggage rack trying to get to one of those spots. I also gouged my calf. Off road seems to be where the danger is. I found a beautiful spot in Palau to stop and go for a swim. I sat on a big granite formation, ducking in and out of the shade. I should have avoided the sun completely, but the breeze was so cool. I read and ate peaches in between dips. It was perfect. At around 4PM I set south for Arzachena. Here I found a new set of headphones and stocked up on water. I need to keep three liters in the racks at all times. I visited a number of prehistoric archeological sites, called Nuraghye and Giant's tombs. The sites weren't as dramatic as I had hoped. The last two were closed by the time I got there so I jumped the fence. It was starting to get late. The setting sun was stunning as I headed down this quiet little road in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by massive granite formations and ancient cow pastures. I found a large patch of blackberries where I ate to my hearts content. Sardinia is providing my nourishment already! It was getting dark so I pulled my bike and all of my gear over an old stone wall and set up my tent in the pasture. It ended up getting pretty cold that night. I had to wear my jacket and use my towel as a blanket. I guess I should have packed a sleeping bag.

7/30 THE LONG TRIP GETTING THERE

I arrived at the train station early in the morning only to be told by the ticket agent that I couldn't book an itinerary that would get me to Genoa in time for my 9:30PM ferry. I pulled out my notebook and showed him the itinerary I had found on the Internet. I booked my tickets, but the train was late. I almost missed my first connection and had to run across the tracks with my loaded down bike to make the next train. I made it to Genoa with no further problems five hours before the ferry was set to sail. I rode my bike all over town, catching my first glimpse of the Mediterranean. Genoa is a series of steep ravines sloping out of the mountains into the sea. Many times I found myself heading the wrong way up into the hills. The one way traffic streams were frustrating, and I often found myself going against traffic. The narrow streets in the center of town were densely packed with people. I purchased food for the overnight ferry trip, including a bottle of Campari and foccacia bread. Somewhere a wad of Euros slipped out of my pocket. I arrived at the ferry an hour and a half early and rode my bike up the ship's gangway and into the hold. I secured it for the long voyage alongside the cars and motorcycles and headed upstairs to the lounge. The full moon was breathtaking on deck as we headed off for Sardegna. Hopefully I'll get a good night's sleep.

ALL PACKED

I'm all packed and ready to go. I'm leaving tomorrow on the 10AM train. My fairy for Sardinia leaves the port of Genova tomorrow evening at 9:30. I'll be recording the trip with a journal and a camera, and will post everything when I return the 17th of August. Here is a list of supplies that I'm bringing:

PERSONAL
passport
credit cards
ferry tickets
watch
notebook
guidebook
map
2 books
2 pr reading glasses
sunglasses


GADGET
iPod
iPod charger
iPod cable
camera
extra camera battery
extra camera memory chip
alarm clock


CLOTHING
Black Jacket
Sandals
Converse
2 pr Shorts
3 pr socks
5 pr underwear
4 pr t shirts
swim suit


BIKE
helmet
gloves
kryptonite lock
cable lock
pump
crescent wrench
screwdriver
chain breaker
spoke wrench
leatherman
allan wrench
2 bike lights
2 waterbottles


CONTINGENCY
parachute cord
bungee cords
24" bailing wire
spare nuts and bolts (rack)
zip ties
duct tape
grease
2 spare tubes
2 patch kits
rags
disposable gloves
sewing kit


CAMPING
tent
tarp
hammock
4 lengths webbing
thermorest
sheet
flashlight
laundry line / soap
laundry clips


TOILETRY
toothbrush
toothpaste
razor
Q tips
deodorant
toilet paper
towel


MEDICAL
6 band aids
1 large band aid
12 aspirin
6 ambien
bug spray
sunscreen
cold medicine
pepto bismol

FELLOW CYCLISTS

There are a lot of cyclists here. The roads are full of them. Unlike in the United States, cyclists are treated well by motorists. Most of the serious cyclists with the colorful garb and the fancy gear are men, my age and older. Countless 60 year old men have passed me heading up a mountain. I have to give them credit. They're out there every day. It reminds me of how I pass the young hipsters on the Williamsburg bridge. On weekends there are huge trains of cyclists headed up into the mountains, but one finds cyclists of every sort everywhere.

MARCESINA

I went up to Marcesina today. Luisa's cousin Hermano told me about it. It's a huge beautiful open pasture with a wildlife refuge, an old hotel, and various dairies. There were cows and cow pies everywhere. The high alps can be seen in the distance. I chose a direct but very steep route to get up there. It was uphill for three and a half hours. I took an old single lane military road up out of Val Sugana. It was the steepest most curvy road I've ever been on. It was both ridiculous and breathtaking. Up on top it was like heaven. It's another world up there. It's so cool and peaceful. Sometime I'll have to stay up there and just keep going. It takes so much effort just to get up there! On the descent back down into Valsugano I strapped a camera to the front of my bike. It captures how crazy that road was. Once back in the valley, I had a head wind all the way back to Bassano. This ride killed me, as I knew it would.

TOOK THE DAY OFF

I took the day off yesterday and went to Venice. I was too exhausted to ride this morning, but will head east tomorrow morning along the range to the Piave river. I'm psyching myself up for a 100 Km trip back up into the mountains to a beautiful place called Mount Marcesina. I've created a map which shows where I've been so far.

ASIAGO

Today I went up the mountain to buy cheese. I went to Asiago, a 68 Km round trip from Bassano. I returned with 5 Kg of some really good cheese and mascarpone. Luisa's uncle Rodolfo recommended the place, Caseficio Pennar. He also taught me the word, "malga", which is a type of Altopiano cow stable. There are many cow pastures up in these mountains. It's so beautiful up there. And the descent is absolutely thrilling. I listened to Stevie Wonder on the way down today, becoming ever more confident.
Today I went up the mountain to buy cheese. I went to Asiago, a 68 Km round trip from Bassano. I returned with 5 Kg of some really good cheese and mascarpone. Luisa's uncle Rodolfo recommended the place, Caseficio Pennar. He also taught me the word, "malga", which is a type of Altopiano cow stable. There are many cow pastures up in these mountains. It's so beautiful up there. And the descent is absolutely thrilling. I listened to Stevie Wonder on the way down today, becoming ever more confident.

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

There are many technical challenges I'm having to overcome. My first day in Bassano I peddled around the town with my laptop open scouting for wifi hotspots. The notion of doing a blog and the day to day necessities of communication depended on laptop usage and finding wifi. What takes no time in New York, took me an hour to locate here. But alas I found my hotspot, located at the base of a modern apartment/business complex where I now make my daily pilgrimage. Let me take a moment to thank that unknown person or business from whom I'm now hacking my Internet connection and hence creating this blog. My second issue was my voltage converter. It was continually overheating, probably due to the heat wave we've been experiencing here in Bassano. It's been a balmy 42º C in the afternoon. My converter finally burned out and I'm terrified of doing the same to my powerbook. Computer parts, especially for an old Apple are difficult to find here. But I was able to find specific cables which enable me to plug directly into the wall. And I got a new voltage converter to keep my camera batteries charged. Hopefully there won't be any more issues.

THE FLOWERS OF MT CAINA

Today I went to the top of Mt Caina today, past Rubio. I am preparing for tomorrow's trip to Asiago. Mt Caina is over a 1000 meters high. I photographed flowers all the way up the mountain and was pleased to find poppy flowers up on top near the Madonna de la Fatima shrine. I can't believe I'm doing this. It's so cool to look up at these mountains in the evening and realize that I've been up there earlier. racing down the mountain reminds me of hang gliding. There's the same sense of vertigo, peacefulness, and speed as you trace the mountains and valleys.

VAL SUGANO

Val Sugano is an incredibly beautiful valley cut deep into the Dolomites by the Brenta river. It runs from Bassano to Trento where it joins the Brenner pass. I rode up the Brenta's left side the day after I went up Grappa. There I found a bike trail that went all the way to Trento, some 86 Km from Bassano. It looked beautiful and I was eager to try it. I returned the following day and would go the full distance. I would take the train back. The gorge and towering rock faces are extraordinary. I was particularly intrigued by a mediaeval fortress cut high into the side of a cliff. The narrow twisting towns were charming. The colorful wildflowers were everywhere and the endless fruit orchards made my mouth water. It was a long haul heading continuously upstream until the river no longer existed. I got lost in Caldolazzo where the bike trail vanished and I headed up the wrong pass. I began to ask people and was turned around. I ended up on a 4 lane highway heading down a mountain into Trento. Fun - Especially the 2Km tunnel. Terrifying. It took me 5 hours, which I reckon will be an average day in Sardinia. I brought some Trento cheese with me back to Bassano. My left shoulder was sunburned.

MOUNT GRAPPA

My first trek was up Mount Grappa. The wicked local drink is named after this mountain, as are many towns including Bassano. Grappa is 1775 meters high. The steep road from Bassano to the top is 38 Km. I remember years ago, the first time I was driven to the top of Grappa passing the many cyclists along the way. I thought they were absolutely crazy. Then 2 years ago I declared that I wanted to bike it. Luisa's family scoffed at the idea. The challenge was set. New York City may be flat, but we we've got those East river bridges that I've been hauling my kid over daily for 3 years now. I was prepared for Grappa. I did it in 3 hours. Of course, now they're telling me stories of people who did it in 2 hours, or someone who screamed up it in only an hour and 15 minutes. They just don't want to give me the credit due. It was a tall accomplishment. And it took only 30 minutes to descend, ripping at speeds of up to 50 MPH, completely freaking me out. I was afraid I'd lose control or my brakes would fail. I'm still reeling from a bad accident I had before I left on the Williamsburg bridge. I'm pretty sure I broke my left pinky or fibula or something. My entire left side was scraped raw. My foot is still so swollen I can't fit it into a shoe. So I'm doing all my biking here in Birkenstocks, which is a somewhat dangerous, especially on those insane descents.

PREPARING

I brought over my Trek 4500 series mountain bike. It cost me $44 to ship it over on the plane. It would have been great to have bought a new touring bike, but the airfare and poor exchange rate are already costing me a fortune. I'm trying to cut as many costs and corners as possible. My bike is 4 years old. I use it every day for transportation in New York. It's functional and dependable. What can I say? I love my bike. I gave it a complete tune-up before I left. The wheels were trued. I put on new gear cables and a new rear tire. I bought myself a new pump, and a few new tools for the trip. I had to completely break the bike down to get it into a shipping box. Fortunately Jonas and Michele rode me to the airport and I was able to rent carts and do the shuffle along the way to get everything here. My bike needed only a few adjustments on this end before it was up and running. How completely liberating to have my bike with me here in Italy! I'm spending the first 2 weeks with Luisa's family in Bassano del Grappa. Bassano is in the northern Veneto region of Italy, roughly 60 miles west of Venice and 60 miles north of Padua. It is located along the Brenta river right where the Dolomites rise out of the plains. It's a great place to have a bike and begin my training.

TO BEGIN

These are two firsts for me. I've never done a bike tour. And I've never published a blog. I've dreamed of traveling to Sardinia for many years. Why not do it by bike? The size of the island is manageable. And it's the only way I can really afford to go. With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of peddling, I expect to travel some 500 miles making a giant C. I'll be starting in Olbia on the north east coast and finishing in Cagliari on the bottom of the island. I'll have about 2 weeks to complete the journey. Sardinia is one of the few regions I've never been to in Italy. It's the second largest island in the Mediterranean. I understand it's quite different from Sicily. It's distinct. It has a long history. The beaches and water are supposed to be some of the world's finest. I can only hope that it's not too mountainous.