Sicily

Typical looking Sicilian village

After an uneventful sailing from Cagliari (Sardinia) to Palermo, I meet up with Berndt at the port. I had planned to cycle down to Ispica (350km away) but glad that he decided to collect me in his Citroen 2CV from 1954. We attach the bike onto the roof and head off into the hills for a brief car repair at his friend's place.

Travelling by car through the centre of Sicily gives me a sense of relief, as, although there are no monstrous mountains, it is very hilly terrain. My previous estimation of three days to reach Ispica looks doubtful in face of this new knowledge.

2CV from 1964 (bicycle is an optional accessory)

After one night on the farm and Berndt giving the knocked up jeep a needed face lift, using the most primitive of tools (inclined plane), we're on the road again; destination, Ispica, in the on the South east coast.

I am here to look after Berndt's menagerie of animals, his garden and home, which just so happens to be a series of caves. Seemed like a good arrangement - I get to take a break from the cycling whilst Berndt gets to visit Germany.

The specifics of such a troglodite existence are not new to me, as I've spent many months here previously.

After being reunited with the dogs and updated on new developments in the caves, I settle in to this more sedate pace of life. Waking up with sun has never been easy for me, but when that same sun blasts her first heat rays directly into your eyes as she likes over the horizon each morning, you tend to take a bit more notice of nature's rhythms and comply. 



Thinkin' like MacGyver - using the inclined plane

My tasks to look after the four dogs (Camilla, Ugo, Chico and Ara), feed the chickens, tortoises and canaries, water the garden and basically keep an eye on things. This early rising pattern and very light chore routine means there is plenty of time to do whatever the hell I want. This mostly comprises of reading, going to the nearby beach, watching movies, listening to music, audiobooks and podcasts and trying to beat Strava times.   For those of you unfamiliar with Strava, it's an app that monitors your bike rides and ranks your performance against other users. Its like a time trial with strangers  and fun you don't get too competitive.
 



The original plan was to stay here for weeks until the middle of May, but Berndt asks me to stay until the end of May. As it's a pretty good life here, no arm twisting is required for me to acquiesce to this request. I dare not stay longer than that though as the summer temperatures are creeping upwards and I want to be heading north come June.

 

Initially there is no WiFi in the caves and this means that the lack of things to do cannot be relieved by simply staring at the black mirror. My reading time during the day spikes to six hours - the kobo ebook reader proves a godsend - and gives me plenty of time to improve my Italian. All the daytime is spent in the garden overlooking the Cava di Ispica. This contrasts strongly with the hustle of the bubbling Berlin  metropolis and is welcomed, at least initially.
 

Cava d'Aglia

Emi joins me for a week long stay and it is definitely more fun when you have someone with whom to share this experience. We visit the nearby catacombs, take long bike rides to Modica, ragusa, Noto, Pachino (who knew that you should pronounce Al Pacino as "Al Pakkino") and the nearby beach. Neither of us is convinced that the electric bike is a real cycling experience, but it is handy if someone gets tired on the hilly terrain. Disappointingly, the water temperatures in May do not exceed 17C, which means its only a toes-in affair. Also overdoing the pizza experience at Forno a Legna, a thing I barely thought possible, by hitting the pizzeria four times in a week.
 

Its the final two weeks where things start to drag. The daily routines, once providing charming simplicity, become like repetitive chores and I long for the diversity of Berlin or bike trekking, where there is a high chance of spontaneity. I want to be able to fall in step with the natural rhythms of nature, but I wish that someone stepped on my toes sometimes. A little disruption or at least more social interaction. 



Easter proceedings in Ispica

And so it is that I decide to join join a group of cyclists who are cycling the Eurovelo 6 (from western France to eastern Romania - 4500km). The tour aims to visit environmental and social projects en route. I plan to meet them near Basel (Switzerland) and then take it from there. To get me back to the mainland, I will take a ferry from Palermo to Genoa. The beauty about the ferries and handling on a bike is that you can make a booking any time. 







Average day solving palm transportation problems

Beam me up Scotty



Modica - probably the most impressive example of baroque architecture

(even brought an architect along to get a second opinion)

A lesser known catacomb

Witnesses at a wedding in Noto

Ispica's graveyard



Wind tunnel pose on the beach

Emi going electric

Around Sardinia in five days

Due to limited sailing dates during lie season, the ferry companies still only one weekly between Sardinia and Sicily. This has the consequence that I will be cycling from the very top of Sardinia to the very south in 4.5 days. I had planned all this, as I wanted to spend more days in Corsica where I was told there were fewer inhabitants and more nature. This ride of approximately 400km would usually be the proverbial walk in the park type affair, but there be hills on Sardinia and this means more strenuous days lie ahead.

After an early bike ride down to Bonifacio port, I catch the morning ferry to Santa Lucia Di Galuria; a journey of only one hour, but suffers often from cancelled sailings due to the high winds funneled between the tips of both Islands.

Finding hosts on CouchSurfing or WarmShowers proved practically impossible, meaning that I will be stealth camping my way down the east coast. This also accords with my plan to maximise the number of kilometres I travel each day, as I automatically will be starting my day with the sunrise and don't need to be anywhere at any specific time.

And so it is, that I spend my first night in Sardinia in small field next to a village 100km from the port, having put in a reasonable first day's ride of 130km. It's not that hilly compared to Corsica, and it must be said, not as spectacular or beautiful too, especially with the tendancy of rubbish to be fly-tipped on the roadsides. As forewarned, there are more people here and less nature, with a distinct  lack of forests. It does also have less of a touristy vibe, with fewer hotels and a more rural, country feeling.

The next day I ride on towards Nuoro, which is a detour of about 50km. Cristina, practically the only person to even reply to my requests on CouchSurfing, has offered me accommodation in her house for the night. The hills start to kick in, but so do the panoramic views. Cristina has two children and she prepares a meal in the evening for us, completed with wine, cheese and traditional Sardinian bread - is a thin wafer of toasted bread about as large as a pizza. It's the access to a shower that one misses the most when stealth camping for any length of time, especially when its too cold to throw yourself into the nearest river. Other welcome amenities are a chance to wash sweaty clothes, warm meals and social interaction.

Following the SS125 down the coast it's a magical ride. There is very little traffic as the main highway snakes towards the west coast after Nuoro. Yes, its hilly but with stunning vistas that make today's ride one of the most epic yet encountered. Here there is natural forest and practically no villages. With the sun reigning high above, I feel no need to stop and take my time pushing up hills at an elegant pace. I sleep in a field next to a stream close to the town of Cardedu.

The next day promises rain from the get go, so I spend most of the morning in a cafe bar enjoying the coffee and ambiance. The locals while away the morning hours in this cafe and the photos on the walls depict their hunting prowess; foxes, wild pigs other animals displayed before them. The rain abates only toward midday, at which time I make my way further south. Having completed more distance than expected over the past three days, I can take it easy and decide to spend some time at the beach near Muravera. I get talking to a curious Swiss couple as I wait for some of my clothes to dry. Seeing that there are few people around and heeding not the no camping signs, I tuck myself away in my tent on the dunes at sunset. Its gonna be a rainy evening but the sounds of nearby waves lullaby me to sleep.

My ferry leaves from Cagliari (why do people pronounce it "Calgari"?) in the evening but it's only a 65km ride so no rush, especially with a morning start. In spite of rain persisting through the day, the snaking SS125 road once again is magnificent.