To Olbia, Sardinia - Day 3

ABBA, graffiti and Romans Chapter 1.

I found myself quite mesmerised with the musical, The ABBA story. It surprised me how fascinated I was. The Happy Pillion kept looking at me, wondering if I still had a pulse. I hadn't moved an inch, as if looking for dolpins. Afterwards, I declared it was the best musical ever produced and performed and that each member was destined for world fame and glory. My Simon Cowell like authority was quite quickly rebuffed, and it was suggested, if they were as good as I say, they'd be in the West End and not here. I'm sticking to my assessment.

Sleep wasn't easy and I longed for daylight. It came when I eventually found sleep. Rachel was up like a fresh daisy, myself like a worn out steam train, struggling to find any sort of traction.

We are off and into Olbia, Sardinia. A thoroughly uninspiring town which must have looked wonderful in the early 1900s. But not in 2024. Today it attracts thousands daily by cruise ship methods. 5 ships had disembarked today and must have swelled the town considerably by population and income.

However, its graffiti strewn walls, crumbling pavements and lethargic workforce point to a reluctant acceptance of these visitors, rather than a welcome embrace.

The heat has been stifling and we sit for a coffee, out of the heat, and in the main tourist area. There is almost no photogenic scene to photograph for this substack and we opt for a walk onto the marina where most yachts are of British stock, whether that be from the Isle of Man, London or Gibraltar.

We consequently discuss the pride countries take in their infrastructure and cleanliness and I suggest that historically, Protestant countries far out do their Catholic neighbours. It is a contentious issue but I am running with it. Compare the Netherlands to Belgium. Britain to Ireland. Germany and Poland. Whether we can call these countries Protestant or Catholic, any more, is debatable.

We are back on board now, and we find our sleepy getaway on deck 4 whilst the “sail away” party is in full swing on the beached walrus deck. Boom boom boom, screams and shouts. I express gladness we aren't up there, although I might sneak up in half an hour, just for reconnaissance purposes.

We are mildly content, certainly tired, and watch the equivalent of the Humber Pilot escort us out around sandbanks and the various dangers of Sardinia's Mediterranean territory.

Tomorrow is Pompeii in mainland Italy. A place that was buried in 6m of volcanic dust around 79AD. A similar time when the Apostle Paul was writing the book of Romans. One event is lauded for accuracy, the other a modern day irrelevance.

We read Romans 1 together after returning from Olbia, whilst following the excellent writings of my friend, Steve Watson, and both felt that chapter could have been written this very day. For this very age. Perhaps take a minute or two to read.

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+1&version=ESV

https://substack.com/home/post/p-147216276?source=queue

Onwards to Italy mainland. I hope to sleep.

I'm still in camp motorcycle touring at this stage.

P.s. An early post due to WiFi issues so please forgive typos and grammar.