Spring Break; a Novella by Amy: Part 4-Cagliari, Sardinia

 Okay so when we picked Cagliari, we had every intention of laying on beautiful beaches sipping delicious cocktails and soaking up as much sun as possible. Sounds perfect for spring break, right? Well….it would have been.

disappointment

We arrived in Cagliari and quickly realized we weren’t in Kansas anymore, if you catch my drift. The airport is nice enough, but not a soul speaks English, and once we figure out that we need to buy bus tickets from a machine that isn’t working, we head back to the information desk (we had already been there about 3 times for help) and the man working there wrote us a sign… “la macchina dei biglietti e fuori servizio” it might as well have said ‘these girls don’t speak Italian, pity them’ Well we did make it onto the bus that would take us airport-city and although the weather was cold and rainy, we still had high hopes.

Boy did those change. I’m not saying Cagliari was a horrible waste of break, but I can thoroughly say it was only fun because everyone kept good attitudes about it and we all brought our senses of humor (thank god) We didn’t see anything all that amazing in Cagliari, but we did manage to see some very old parts, see a very thorough (and somewhat boring) roman ruin museum,  eat lots of gelato, have the best canola I’ve ever had in my entire life, and get lost in a rural part of Sardinia.

I’m not sure these can be considered highlights, but they need to be told:

-Leah and Nikki ate horse steak and worm cheese from last June with their couchsurfing host…and they’re both alive. Thankfully.

-easter processionals/good Friday processionals; they consisted of many people in black or white robes (head covered too) and carrying different religious statues/offerings. Very cool to see how it’s done in a different country.
-the same creepy Italian man, Luka, talked to our group of 3 and group of 2, and we were on opposing sides of town, but he fit the same description, name, and career..oh and he spoke no english, but by that point we were picking up on Italian.

-The water at the beach was supposed to be clear n beautiful and amazing…it was brown and made my legs itch after being in it.

cannoli made from God

-Nora=Sardinian countryside….very pretty

-more graffiti than I have ever seen

-In Sardinia if you ask if they speak English, they will 99% of the time laugh in your face and then proceed to speak VERY rapid Italian at you.

-Italian boys can be more vulgar than French ones. (tutti e bella muah muah muah…ugh)

-Figuring out how to switch our hotel tv from Italian to English, and then actually watching tv for the first time in months.

And I will end with the fun telling of how we got to our hotel the first night…Mom you might want to skip this part.

nasty water

-trying to find our hotel: Megan, Liana and I chose to stay in a hotel, which Leah and Nikki stayed with a couchsurfer. So the 3 of us set off to get on the bus that was supposed to take us right by our hotel….we board and the driver quickly tells us (or motions rather, because he doesn’t speak English) that we need to buy tickets from a stand…so we go where he pointed and that guy tells us he doesn’t sell the ones we need. At this point we are more than a little exhausted, its getting later by the second, everyone we ask if they speak English laughs at us…and it’s raining. Perfect.

So in a moment of desperation we ask clerks at the mcdonalds if they speak English, and luckily one does. They find a driver who is coincidentally ordering food, and basically force him to sell the 3 of us a bus ticket. Phew….oh but that’s not all.

We finally get on the bus we need (or so we thought) and realize after much too long that we are not following the route our map says…in a panic we ask the driver about our stop and he laughs…not a good sign. Oh did I mention that while we are sitting on the bus, two boys are across from us saying “fuck u, fuck u life, fuck u bitches!...are we saying that right?” ugh. Eurotrash at it’s finest.

Nora beaches

We get off the bus and wander the streets searching for anything on our map, but aren’t having much luck, and we are in the ghetto. Think im exaggerating? There wasn’t a spare building that didn’t have graffiti on it, it was late at night, and we were 3 white girls who spoke absolutely no Italian, on not well lit streets…in the rain. Sigh. After our nerves were getting the best of us, we saw a pizza place open, and I went in and asked the woman if she spoke English..she laughed. Sigh. But upon me showing her our hotels name/address she starting rattling off in rapid Italian where we should go. A man who was ordering from her said something fast n loud to her followed by “shut up!” and motioned for us to follow him outside. We did. He spoke broken English, and managed to give us thorough directions on getting to our hotel. Thank the lord.Once in the hotel, we about kissed the floor. It was nice and clean and the clerk was amazingly nice to us, oh and breakfast was free. =) Next time, I’m gonna take the advice from the airport information desk man, and take an effing taxi.