Olbia
The last day. It's 1 PM, and my ferry departs from Olbia. The road is battered by a strong wind, a maestrale that pushes against me riding with every kilometer and makes it strong havy. I grip the bike tighter, my legs firmly planted, feeling the force of the wind pressing against my body. It’s a raw, visceral connection with the landscape, one that demands full attention. The wind isn’t just a force of nature; it’s a reminder of the island’s untamed spirit, always present, always powerful.
As I approach the tunnels, they offer a brief moment of relief, a pause from the relentless wind. The darkness of the tunnels feels like a small sanctuary, a brief escape, where I can collect myself before the journey resumes. But once I exit, the wind returns with full force. You find yourself riding with even more concentration, feeling the weight of each gust, yet pushing forward, the last 300 kilometers standing between me and the port.
Finally, I arrive at the harbor, and the ferry is there—this time, right on time. There’s a sense of closure, of completing a journey both physically and emotionally. As I park the bike, I take one last look at Sardinia and at its imagines in my mind: its mountains, its waters, its winds. These elements will stay with me long after I leave I think, my body surely will remind them for a wile. “Arrivederci, Sardegna, with your wild winds, your mountains that cradle the sky, and your endless waters. your beauty . Ciao 💙.”
I board the ship, feeling the finality of it all, but also a quiet sense of gratitude. Sardinia, with all its rugged beauty and deeply rooted stories, has left a mark on you. It’s a place that calls to me—not just with its landscapes, but with its people, its rhythms, and its soul. And though the journey ends here, the memories, like the tides, will continue to wash over me.
