We waved goodbye to the owners late on a Monday afternoon and within hours waved goodbye to Ila whose boyfriend had flown down to visit. A little work on Tuesday and then Dudi was off to a seaside holiday resort with his girlfriend and it was back to being Anita and I once again! Not having spent any money in 20 days or seen any shops we naturally reverted back to our basic feminine instincts and hit the town for some serious summer sale time shopping. One new wardrobe of underwear, two new bikinis, a big beach hat and four hours later and we were ready to hit the beach the next day.
A small arrow pointed innocently off the edge of the Lonely Planet map and stated ‘Poetto Beach 2km.’ In dire need of exercise we had decided to walk to the beach thinking it couldn’t be that hard to find but after one hour we found ourselves lost and disoriented. After asking 2 bemused locals later we were promptly directed back to the bus stop… oh well it’s the thought that counts! We finally arrived at the beach which was typically Mediterreanen – long, white and so covered with beach chairs and umbrellas that you couldn’t even see a spare scrap of sand. Late in the afternoon a group of 3 Italian men used the typical ‘Do you have a light?’ line to start talking to us and we pleasantly discovered that Rocco, Antonio and Salve were 3 nice Sicilian pilots who thankfully spoke really good English and we promised to meet them that night for a drink.
That night we raided the fridge and prepared aperitivs and cocktails on the boat and asked our newfound Italian friends to join us for a drink. After a few icy pineapple cocktails and some later regretted cointreau shots we headed back to Poetto to a gorgeous all white beach bar. Unfortunately I drowned my sorrows about Italian men being too hairy, slick and therefore totally unattractive in numerous drinks and ended up back on board in bed having made the impulse decision to leave the party early!
The next day we lounged around the boat in various states of dishevelment and our rescue pilots came to cook us hangover curing and very tasty tomato pasta before dragging our sorry bottoms to the beach. That night we ate at a local pizzeria and then danced the night away at a club called Pasha’s located right on the top of Cagliari’s main hill. Technically the next day was our last completely free day so we decided to get onto the sightseeing. Cagliari is a beautiful city where the waterfront reminds me a little of Salamanca Place. As we were considered a super yacht we were parked in the central port around from the main marina which was directly in the centre of town. From here we walked up the hill towards Cagliari’s medieval quarter. Cobblestoned streets, no cars, huge towers, cathedral and a roman ampitheatre set the tone for the Castello district. The main attraction is the gorgeous Bastion San Remy and we returned later that evening for a drink on top of the Bastion at a gorgeous bar decked out with four poster white beds and red lounges all in the shadow of an ancient wall – not a bad place for a cocktail. The boys soon joined us and we stayed at the Bastion for hours watching the full moon rise and enjoying the cocktails before heading again to a Poetto club where we danced until the lights came on – or so we thought but it turned out to be simply the sun rise J
It was a magical, albeit short break and although I was exhausted when we began working again that afternoon I felt we had made the most of our time in Cagliari.
