I was woken on Sunday by two very different Lycra-clad characters. Twenty seven cumulative hours later Jo and Liz had reached their optimum sleep levels. They were off for an iPhone GPS monitored run. “Relax” they said, “we’re doing a 10k. Have a lie-in”. Ten minutes later they were back, muttering that their iPhones were playing up.
Fortunately there wasn’t even the charade of sailing today, not a twitch of a sail, not a tweak of a sheet (rope to the likes of lesser sailors like me). Instead Liz persuaded a nice young Italian lady to hire us three electric bicycles and the freedom of the island for €30. Off we pedalled, not at all competitively, vying for position as we dodged pedestrians, dogs, the elderly and coconuts. These machines were awesome. We worked our way around the coast of Alghero on a cultural tour visiting various sites of interest…the exact names escape me but the words ‘Island’, ‘Cuba’, ‘Caipirinha’ and ‘Royale’ figured somewhere in them. The girls had plotted a course to a lunch stop on a headland overlooking the crashing surf, and after a moderately hair-raising ride we arrived, well-oiled, to find that they’d stopped serving food. Three bags of crisps and a little more liquid fuel later we weaved our way back to our vessel. One small sandwich, a dubious homemade melon vodka concoction by Liz and we were off again. This time the racing was serious as we only had 30 minutes to get to the last beach bar, read a map in Italian and return the bikes.
When I say ‘last’ beach bar that doesn’t take into account the giant plastic lemon caipirinha bar that Liz and I had been eyeing up all weekend, and that we had to stagger past on the way back. Surprisingly we made it out for a final meal overlooking the harbour. The skipper by this time was somewhat disapproving of her inebriated crew, however we maintain that this was a cover for her still being a little bit scared.
It’s been an arduous weekend….we were all sad not to sail but we’ve coped well with the rigours of relaxing.
Ship’s Mouse aka Plumbey