We took what felt like the world’s smallest train from Olbia to Chilivani, where we boarded a bus to Sassari. The countryside we passed is sparsely populated filled by rugged hills, resembling Tuscany without the towns dotting the skyline. I wish we had time to stop and clearer windows so that I could show off the gorgeous landscape.
From the bus station at the bottom of the hill, we lugged our bags over cobblestone roads. The route seemed interminable jumping from one narrow alley to another, but the trip was broken up by obstacle hopping. Olbia’s name comes from city of happy people. From our walk today, I’d guess Sassari means land strewn with tiny-dog poops.
June 2 is Republic Day in Italy, celebrating 80th aniverssary of the reformation of the government after the Second World War and rejecting the fascists and monarchy. Much of the town was closed and our plans to find the best lunchtime restaurants were dashed by steel shutters.
For the evening, S made dinner reservations at a pizzeria for us and a couple of friends. Because of the holiday, the kitchen was closed — actually the restaurant was closed, but the owner had neglected to disable the on-line reservation system. He graciously took time away from his family to open just for us, but operating solo, there was no pizza. I settled for carbonara and S antipasto.
After flailing with faulty credit-card readers after dinner, S went to the conference pre-event gathering — a drag show, of course — and I meandered town, finding locals gathered at the bars and a couple of piazze.
This morning we dragged our jetlagged corpses out of bed to breakfast at a cafe. The pastries here are amazing — even a simple jam cornetto is fabulous. The cappuccino met expectations, which is to say it was lovely… but the card readers also met expectation. The cashier at the cafe was unfazed and trusted us to come back later with cash. Coming back to pay, I met a different cashier who seemed to understand my Duolingo-Italian story of needing to pay for breakfast an hour earlier, probably because the story was a common rerun, but Duo I want my plushy bonus toy now!
I spent the morning wandering the neighborhood, getting a feel for the geography, while S was at the conference. The streets here are oddly almost grid like, except for lots of side streets spurring into or bisecting a block here and there. Street signs aren’t always prominent and most streets don’t run more than a few blocks, so map navigation isn’t trivial.
We had a tough time finding lunch again today. There was no holiday for excuses — it’s just a tough time for businesses here judging from the large number of blocked by rolling shutters. We settled for “sandwiches,” because panino means something else to waitstaff here. Overcoming the language barrier, our bar waitress was happy to imagine a menu and forage for some bread, prosciutto, mayo, and eggplant together for us.
We’re off to pizza now (fingers crossed), but here are some insights of the day:
- Lunch pickings are slim, at least mid-week, in Sassari. Pizza is harder to find in Sardinia than I could have imagined.
- Google’s business opening times cannot be trusted here.
- Kindness from strangers is more reliable than credit-card readers.
