The Johnslingtons

We flew 11 hours from SFO to Frankfurt (more on that later), and then, after a six-hour layover, two more hours to Olbia, Sardinia. Our flight left San Francisco at 2 pm and landed in Frankfurt at midnight Pacific Time. Not ideal conditions for sleeping in United Economy. Fiona slept maybe an hour. Me less. Julie maybe less than that. Needless to say, we were a total mess.

Luckily, when we arrived in Sardinia, all bleary-eyed and dizzy, we didn’t have to drive (or think, or do much of anything at all) for ourselves. Our friend Cate (remember her from Berlin?) picked us up, led us to a car she already rented (that Fiona quickly named Inky), and drove us down to Orosei. We ate a delicious meal at the restaurant across the street from our rental apartment and then crashed hard.  

Twelve hours of slumber later we woke to blue skies and agreeably warm-almost-hot air. Our dear friend Cate had yes gone into town and brought home coffee (yes) and pastries (YES PLEASE!). 

“I think I’ve found a beach to go to,” she said. “It’s about five minutes away.”

We slowly got our act together, piled into Inky, and headed toward the sea. Down a country road we went, to a little hut where a leathery man took our 5 euro entrance fee, over a bridge, through a small pine forest, to Spiaggia Su Barone.

Imagine the Italian beach of your dreams. It probably has white sand, blue water, mild Mediterranean waves lapping against the shore, and a little beach bar with friendly staff and a small menu of seafood and drinks. The water is salty enough for a float.

And there are beach umbrellas. Preferably not too many, hopefully not all taken.

I started to categorize the best beaches I’d been to on this continent (Nice…Ischia….central Croatia…) Barone was already coming out on top. Part of it is honestly likely due to the season. We were early for Sardinia; everywhere we went had a just-waking-up-from-hibernation vibe, and there were only a few other people staying in our apartment complex. We hung out until a thunderstorm boiled up and blew everyone away.

That night we were out to dinner at the Gastro Garage (wine, tapas, effortlessly cool) in and the other group was a boisterous group of staff from Bar Su Cuile, a bit down the road. They went through about five rounds while we ate, one thing led to another, and by the end of dinner we’d decided to lunch at their bar the next day. 

Lunch was just fine – sitting under a lattice of leaves while enjoying an Aperol Spritz with the ocean in the background is a pretty decent way to spend time. Unfortunately the beach next to the bar had umbrellas for residents only, so we had to go around the point to Spiaggia di Cala Ginepro. It was quiet there – a few dudes were setting up palapas to prep for the beginning of the season, and there was no possibility of renting one. We found a shady spot under some trees and then splashed around in the warm, shallow water for a spell. Delightful.

We did a few other non-beachy during our time on the island, which we’ll get to a bit later. But on our last day, the sky was bursting with sun, the breeze was medium strong, and the sea was calling. I’d scoped some of the other local beaches on a morning run, but where to go was a no-brainer. We rolled back down to Su Barone, paid the leathery guy, and kicked in an extra couple of Euros to rent front-row umbrellas. We sat, gazed at the sea, built sand mounds, and reveled in the quiet, the breeze, and the water. 

Oh, and our jet lag? Cured.