Here we go again on our travels. This time to Sardinia, where we’ll be staying at Hotel La Bitta in the hamlet of Arbatax which is on the east side of the island.
Lisa is awake and up just before 06:00. The beauty routine has started. Before long, she deposits a piping hot cup ‘o tea on my bedside table. She’s a keeper ❤️.
We’re out the door and on the road by 07:35. Pick up the Evs at 08:00. There’s a lot of chat on the way; I’m sure Stu will go full-on War & Peace about that in his wordy blog.
We’ve arrived at Gatwick Holiday Parking at 09:10. Within 5 mins the keys are handed over, and we’re on the transfer bus. A couple with a double buggy get on and cause all sorts of blockage. The Golden Gals (GG’s) get a seat but are soon hemmed in by said buggy, but they make friends with the family who are heading for Turkey. The menfolk are left standing. The mood on the bus is good, people feeling holiday vibes no doubt.
We reach the terminal and jump in the lift. A lone lady (about 50ish, English, fairly conservative apparel) joins us and we have a brief convo. She divulges, with a grimace, that she’s travelling alone for the first time and is heading to Majorca to be with her parents. We wish her “bon voyage” and tell her she’ll be fine and she seems to appreciate the brief exchange.
Next: security. It’s funny how we can be all together on minute and then far apart the next. Lisa and I are through the first gate in a flash. Turn around and The Evs are rooting through bags. “Wait over there please” a stern but fair official utters. We move to said zone, wait for The Evs, wave to The Evs, and The Evs glance around a la headless chickens and make a beeline for their nearest security conveyor 🤷. They finally clock us across the security hall as we’re scooping our stuff out of the little plastic trays. Blind as fuck.
Reunited, we are soon in departures beyond duty free. I have a 30 second chat with a guy pushing Starbucks but he’s also pushing The Breakfast Club which is where we end up going. In that 30s, Sue is halfway across departures FFS. It’s like herding cats, honestly. Reunited once more, we head for breakfast.
Breakfast is good, they take care of all my Lactose needs. I get to browse a version of the menu on a tablet. I opt for “The Greasy Spoon”. Sue goes veggie breakfast, with facon which she does not like. The kids have toast.
Breakfast over, we sit, shop, piss, wait. Gate 106 beckons. The GG’s go for a piss just before we enter the gate. We’re in the gate for a short while, see the plane arrive. Lisa is talking about some bullshit drama skit on TikTok about a guy refusing to get on a plane because it’s a lady pilot. Right on cue, I spot our lady pilot heading into the tunnel.
The predictable crowd starts to gather at entrance to tunnel. First call: Special Needs. Second call: Speedy Boarding. That’s us. I am ready, up and at ’em, you go dude. I round the Non-Speedy-Boarders (NSB’s) in a blink of the eye. The gatekeeper at the tunnel entrance is telling the NSB’s to get the fuck back (in slightly more polite but stern terms). I sense I’m by myself and look around; yep the dawdlers are about 20 people back 😦. Come on people. So I’m forced to wait at the top of the stairs, and after a short while we coalesce once more. Gang reunited, there’s chat about whether Mick Jagger and Tina Turner will join us this holiday (a throwback to Spain ’17).
Once on the plane, the couple in front of us take their sweet time and take our luggage space with all their shit. To think I let these bastards past while I was waiting for the others…hmph. At the same time the plane is filling from the back gradually working towards us. I am on point, and grab each case in turn and stuff them all a few rows down from ours. Mission accomplished. Seating arrangement is thus: (from window) – Rob, Lisa, Sue, and across the aisle, Stu. Stu’s earphones are inserted in a flash.
Take-off. Lisa’s cherry drop sweeties for the ears. Blog. GG’s order drinks. Out come the snacks. Sue’s crisps go FAT, like Buster Gonad’s ball bag. Blog. Blog some more. Earbuds in (I ❤️ my Jabra’s, that ANC takes away all that hissy plane noise, and they have physical buttons, none of that touch sensitive shit). Weezer is soon piped into my aural canals. GG’s are watching a film.
The sight of the island is glorious as we descend. Lady pilot lands well. Stu jumps up and immediately gets all the cases down, no hanging about and has done the business there.
After leaving the plane, we jump on one of two buses to the terminal. The other bus goes first, the bastards. So all that excellent work of getting off the plane quickly has been in vain.
We’re at the back of the queue in the terminal and it’s chaotic. We join the non-euro line (thanks Brexiteers, FFS) and see some of the new EES machines that we’re all supposed to be using from now on, which is going to cause even more chaos at peak season. As we queue, random people get selected to use the machines, and some go through to the regular passport booth guy. When it’s our turn, I get sent to booth, and all else get sent to the EES finger print machines. Lisa and Stu get the full works, but Sue doesn’t. It’s all so random, and costs us all more time.
Then to the car rental – “Oh Sardinia”. Stu has ordered a midi car. Midi my arse – it’s tiny. A Lancia something or other. But we get the cases in. There’s some small dents on one side. The bloke videos around the car before handing over, looks like he misses the dents so I take some pictures.
The roads are fine at first but then as darkness sets in, we’re in the mountains. Italian drivers are crazy mofo’s, overtaking the second they get a chance and disappearing in an instant on these treacherous winding unforgiving roads. It’s a 2.5hr drive and an arduous task for driver Stu. It’s a miracle that no-one needed a piss at any point.
We arrive at the hotel and it looks lovely. Reception dish out the key cards and we get the stuff in the rooms, which are on same floor but at opposite ends of the building. We’re all hungry but the long journey has taken it’s toll on Stu so they opt for room service.
Lisa and I decide to head to the “Terrazza Bar” to get some food and a drink. Receptionist says go out front door and turn left. I misunderstand the direction and go straight then left, to a bar we saw on drive in. It’s a completely independent bar and not the place we were meant to go; but we decide to eat there anyway. There’s only a few other patrons. The staff speak no English, so it’s difficult. Ultimately we use Google translate on my phone, passing back and forth to get some chicken schnitzel type thing and a ham and cheese toastie without ham. And two big beers. It’s not a huge amount of food but fills a hole.
Then it’s back to the hotel, and we go to look at where we should have gone in the first place. It’s a bit confusing to get to, but we manage to find it eventually and it looks nice. The Evs got their food from here through room service and it looked better and more plentiful than what we had.
Last thing we do is meet up with the Evs and play some gin rummy.
Then to bed; Poor Things is on the telly as I write this blog. More about the hotel tomorrow, in the daylight.
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