Campervan Therapy

Bonifacio Port

As we arrive at the Port for the hour crossing to Sardinia’s St. Teresa Gallura, a man in an orange jumpsuit indicates vaguely towards the sea. At this point I decide that he’s not a port worker at all, but an imposter, but he’s pretty insistent so we find ourselves precariously perched on the edge of that deep harbour. 

He’s not an imposter though so soon we’re waving farewell to Bonifacio as it looks down on us from its rocky eyrie.

 The magical town and the shining white cliffs soon appear to float in a haze and we turn our eyes south towards Sardinia’s violet mountains, both of us full of expectation. 

There’s something otherworldly about approaching these Mediterranean islands from the sea – like the adventurers of old from myth and legend.

Ciuchesu – South of Capo Testa Nature Reserve

We drive 11 kilometres south from St. Teresa Gallura along the pine wood edged SS200 to La Liccia Campsite. And then our outdoor spa days begin. This is a glorious spot. We camp on a pine-shaded terrace.

Swimming and Chat

The planting round the swimming pool is a work of art in itself.  The balustrade drips with bougainvillea, fantail palms edge the pool, umbrella pines surround it, swallows dipping and swooping above them. Massive butterflies feast on the bougainvillea flowers.

A young man tends the pool  meticulously. He is befriended by a garrulous woman from USA’s Oregon, and I wish I had her relaxed friendliness: she engages everyone poolside in conversation, even though she hasn’t a word of Italian, French or German, yet she gets the league of nations talking  – a true diplomat. 

Sea, sun and sand and political disintegration…

We tread water and chat to Paolo and Carla who work in Luxembourg but choose to live in France just over the border as its much more affordable. We trade notes on deregulation leading to an erosion of the quality of life for workers. They tell us that Luxembourg is only a country for the super-rich, and, more sadly, for the very poor who live in appalling conditions.

They are bemused when I tell them that France’s state company, EDF, is a private provider of energy in Britain and that our water companies are privatised too.

But the sky is achingly blue and the umbrella pines are so vividly green you could eat them. The sharp toothed mountains look down on us, unmoved by our human foibles and the day is too beautiful to doom-monger for long.

Cala Gonone and Paolo’s Recommendation

So Paolo tells us of a smashing campsite in Cala Gonone on the east coast, which we decide to head to when we leave here. Later, he gives us the owner’s name and says to give Jana his greetings. Paolo and Carla have been going there for 13 years so it must be good. They also tell us of a cheesemaker who sells the best pecorino, so good that Paolo has bought a year’s supply.