Well, we made it to Cagliari, located in the southern part of the island of Sardinia, Italy. It wasn’t terribly far from Rome/Civitavecchia, so not an impressive feat.
Since we hadn’t planned anything (kinda typical of us, if there’s nothing that hops out at us, we just walk into port and see what happens), we decided we’d hit the “hypermarket” (giant grocery store) before returning, but we’d at least go have a look at the city.
Holy cowzers, Cagliari is STEEP. We walked up a few blocks and saw
Electric minibus? Oh, hell yes. It was substantially skinnier than even most cars, so it could nightbus it’s way into some of those small areas, and for €15 each for 75 minutes of being driven around the city, yes, please.
Of course, the more people the driver could stuff on the bus was sheer profit for him, so yeah, while he said he was about to leave, that wasn’t quite the case.
In Gilbert & Sullivan’s operetta The Pirates of Penzance, the cast has a big number where they all march around for an extended time singing about “we go, we go!” Finally the old guy gets frustrated and shouts “Ah, but you DON’T go!”… which has been a joke in my family for as long as I can remember.
Once all the seats were filled 15 odd minutes later, then and only then did we rumble off.
We were about five minutes into the ride when Beloved said “um… what’s with the stick shift?”
Me: What? No, honey, electric vehicles have motors, they don’t have gears. It’s why they can coast up these hills without problems.
She rolled her eyes, clearly meaning “I know that…” and pointed to the front seat.
Driver: Ahhh… yessss-ah. It’sa hybrid, we need-ah the pow-eeerrr to get up the hills.
I cut Beloved side eye and whispered “uhhhh… no… no you don’t provided you have the right size battery. It’s the beauty of electric…”
We’ve been together 32 years, I know when she shoots me a look to say shut up, honey to keep my yappy closed.
Doesn’t stop the pouting, however.
We toodled around this steep-ass town… god, all these Mediterranean cities seem to rise out of the ocean at an alarming angle. To defend the city, the Romans built a limestone wall around it, and good luck getting past that.
After getting cannolis (god, too rich…) we headed to the hypermarket, which was really like a large Vons or Sainsburys to source soda (much, muuuuuuch cheaper to carry them on than buy them on board).
Fortunately, Coke is the same the world over, and aqua con gas I can handle, but it has to be in cans or cartons, as they won’t let you carry plastic on board.
At next stop, Màlaga (MAH-lah-gah), (Spain) I’d arranged for a tour to visit Cueva del Tesoro… the Treasure Caves… a distance outside the city. The caves sounded really pretty…
But the caves weren’t the best part.
Getting there doesn’t involve a lumbering great tour bus. Instead, they bring a swarm of Smartcars to the port, radios tuned so the tour guide’s talk can be heard as you’re driving along. Each couple gets a little beep-beep electric car and the whole herd goes en masse.
I love Smartcars, but I’m intelligent enough not to own one… mostly. I’ve been sorely tempted, they’re sooo cute and compact and I want one. However, their crash survival rate appears to be that of a meth-addicted squirrel wandering the Autobahn in search of his next hit.
In short, Beloved nixed any thoughts of ownership.
However, driving with a bunch of other little tin cans where we have a lead car and following car to keep everyone in line… yeah, she’s okay with that.
WHEEEEEE…
Hooray, I get to drive a Little Tykes CozyCoupe except not painted bright red and yellow and it actually has windows and a motor!
However, this morning’s news, as we pull into port…
Màlaga is in the area that had appalling flooding (the Spaniards were rioting a couple weeks ago because after the floods in Valencia, there were more than 200 dead and the government allegedly didn’t act quickly enough). Màlaga was affected, but not to the extent Valencia was.
After arrival, the ship announced all tours are cancelled but they’re letting people get off the ship if they wish… just… be careful…
Driving in that shit in a foreign country where I can barely ask for the location of los potties?
Not. A. Chance.
Actually, the tour company, aware of the impending storm, notified us a couple of days in advance that the caves tour was canceled (yeah, I have no interest in spelunking when extrication may well involve scuba divers who will knock me unconscious then drag my sorry carcass out at great risk to their (and my…) lives).
Thanks, though.
The company suggested we instead tour Màlaga in the cars. We waited until the last possible minute and canceled… and the company responded saying rain is highly variable in the city and if we changed our minds they’d have a car there for us regardless.
Looking at the pictures from the last storm, kinda thinking that’s a hard pass.
Oh… and the city canceled all transit, including the complimentary shuttle bus from the port to the city itself. Have fun walking the 2km (a mile and a quarter) in the driving rain!
I’m thinking today would be a good day to get some sewing done. Beloved is sleeping in.
Examining Misadventures 