You can’t understand Sardinian speed limits. You can only ignore them. On the long drive back south to the last stop on our two-week, 1,850 kilometre journey, this becomes almost painfully clear once again.
Sardinian speed limits are Dadaism in its purest form: completely devoid of meaning. A higher power has shat them directly into the brains of the legislature from a great height. There was a storm cell in between. The poo froze in it. Unfortunately, its now harder consistency caused irreparable damage to the danger centre of the Sardinian legislature’s brain on impact. (more…)
The lords of Galtelli Castle & good old friends in La Caletta
Relief from the loss of all 18 years of travel stories only comes the next morning. After a night with almost no sleep, I am infinitely groggy. But also full of hope when my good hoster Vautron writes that they were able to restore my 750 travelogues from several incremental database backups and also fix any database errors.
Without checking, we set off for the next destination on our journey. Galtelli is located in the mountainous hinterland near the famous Cala Gonone in the east. The time-honoured village is fast asleep. Like so many others before us, check-in is completely online. Our accommodation for the next few days is a real castle, the Castello Malicas. Directly in front of the castle is an ancient rock tomb, surrounded by the large green municipal park and behind it the 806 metre high rocky Monte Tuttavista. (more…)
I’m off then…
Spoiler: this travelogue has absolutely nothing to do with Hape Kerkeling, the Way of St James or self-discovery. But a hell of a lot to do with self-definition.
The colourful medieval houses of Bosa are enchanting without any official bans on the use of toilet stone colours. Even blind Italians probably have more reliable good taste when it comes to choosing the colours of their houses than Germans do when it comes to shoes in general.
Castelsardo, which is on the way, has changed a lot since my last visit a few years ago. The little girl’s comment on the oil-on-wood works in the castle’s “art museum” is enchantingly short and to the point: “bäh”. (more…)
Sardinia’s wild west
The journey continues northwards across Sardinia’s wild west. In the Iglesias region, over 2,000 years of mining history have transformed the landscape into a Swiss cheese. Similar to the Ruhr region, history is only just beginning to be converted into new jobs.
We visit the Nebida mine beneath rust-brown mountain slopes. We then continue on to Porto Flavia, an impressive piece of mining under Belgian management from the late 1920’s. Our Smurf enthusiastically trolls with us through deep, dark tunnels. The Galeria Henri in Buggeru is unfortunately closed. (more…)
Sant’Antioco, Chia & Punta Trettu
It’s been far too many years since we both last visited Sardinia. We know the north well. This time we are focussing on the south. From Cagliari airport, it’s an hour’s 80 km drive by hire car to the small island of Sant’Antioco in the south-west. Our accommodation is located right at the highest point of the beautiful old town next to the basilica. Flamingos dine in the surrounding lagoons at sunset.
Even after Easter, Sardinia is anything but awake. Everything is empty, stress-free and cosy. 25 to 30° is much more pleasant than the constant 13° of rain I experienced on my last visit at the same time of year. You can still kite on almost every beach that is closed from June at the latest and wild camping is still a mass sport. (more…)
The stars over the Sinai desert
We use one of the last windless days before our departure for a jeep and hiking tour in the Sinai desert. You can easily pay 40 euros or more for a trip like this in a hotel. We booked through Masha in the Facebook group Dahab Digital Nomads. For five people, the full-day trip including dinner by the fire under the stars in the Sinai desert costs a good 20 euros. You can decide for yourself what you want to see.
We set off in the midday heat. At the rubbish dump outside Dahab, the plastic rubbish burns in the best Mad Max end-time style. There is plastic waste everywhere out here, for which we travellers are largely responsible. You can’t buy water in a glass anywhere. In the meantime, activists are calling for a beach clean-up in Dahab. What is that supposed to achieve? Some people see less rubbish at hotspots? And care even less everywhere… (more…)
1,400 km road trip through Crete
We spend two weeks travelling all over Crete with the little one. Avoiding the storm on the west coast, we first land in Platanias. Almost everything is still closed before the Greek Orthodox Easter.
The sea is boiling with 13°C water and 17°C air in big waves. Our small flat is right behind it. But the wind is a little too lusty for me to be thrown into a frosty second kite session without a wetsuit. (more…)
Micro Magic Kite Bliss @ Elafonisi
Our 20-year-old travel guide already describes Elafonisi as the “lost paradise”. Elafonisi only makes it onto our list because there are a few references to the fact that you could probably kitesurf in the turquoise-blue paradise lagoon from time to time. In general, information about kitesurfing on Crete is more than sparse on the internet. But there are spots where you are allowed to kitesurf. You can only find them with the help of locals.
The forecast for Elafonisi is quite good for one day. The journey from Guaves to the south-west corner of Crete takes a good three and a half hours. The often single-lane road first leads over a winding pass to high above a spectacular canyon. Dozens of stalls sell organic honey, olives and raki. The road then descends almost as steeply through an idyllic valley to the sea. (more…)
Walrus rolling in wild East Crete
Crete is my eighth and by far the largest of all the Greek islands I have visited. The family arrives with a stopover in Viennese style. Even at Easter, the sheer endless competition from car hire companies knocks car hire prices below the price of scooters in developing countries.
Our booked basic hotel suffers from construction delays. We are rebooked at the 5-star all-inclusive Guaves Waterpark Resort. The little one enjoys gigantic children’s pools and dad unlimited pita gyros with a few cocktails. (more…)
One Month Barefoot: Good Night, Vietnam!
As soon as I’m back in My Hoa from Da Lat, the strong winds return. During my last ten days here, it was almost constantly blowing across the flat water at 20 to 43 knots. A GoPro mount that is probably tied too tightly around the centre strut causes it to explode on the jump. Due to the Tet holidays, the repair takes five days. Even after the second attempt, the centre strut continues to lose air. My wings are flat and records are over.
I find the GoPro that fell out of the kite in the morning at low tide after a long lagoon traipse. I borrow the expensive Insta 360 X3 from a Chinese woman and head out onto the water with a good harness mount. In the shallow water in front of the Phan Rang Kite Centre, I crash after a mini hop. The second harness opens and tears the Insta several metres over sharp pieces of coral on the seabed. The total loss results in the most expensive 20-second clip in 25 years of kitesurfing holidays. The coral bites me in the knee one last time.
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Communist Biking: Nha Trang & Da Lat
The wind in My Hoa drops for the first time in many weeks. Down, that means “only” 18 knots here. I go out for some mild cruising with the 12. My friend Tom comes over from Thailand. We put up at the very nice luxury resort My Hoa Kiting Town. In the “lull” we hire 150cc scooters and set off along the winding coastal road to Nha Trang to Cầu Nước Ngọt waterfall. Cold, clear water cools us down nicely.
Two days later, we set off on our big tour. The 600-kilometre journey first takes us two and a half hours to the city of Nha Trang with its half-million inhabitants and white tower blocks. The roads are horribly crowded for long stretches. Tom’s bike breaks down. I’m about to push him uphill with my foot. Tom swaps the scooter twice, then we head for the thermal springs of the I-Resort. Artificial waterfalls, steep slides and hot pools are surprisingly relaxing even at almost 30 degrees. (more…)
On The Road Again: Saigon
Never before have I set off on a journey so exhausted. Corona brought a lot of work at first. Then the reopening brought the biggest slump in profits ever. For the first time in a quarter of a century, I was looking for a permanent job as a web designer. Then, all of a sudden, lots of big orders came in again. What remains is the biggest tidal difference of all time – and all-encompassing fatigue.
When saying goodbye at the airport, the little ones’ last words are “Daddy, warm hands”. That’s the favourite compliment she can give a web designer with chronically cold hands. I will miss her very much. But it’s high time for more sleep, a heavy workout and plenty of big airs at one of the windiest spots in Asia. No exhausting expeditions. To be clear: the plan fails as soon as I arrive in Saigon. (more…)
2.800 km Roadtrip With A Baby
My life is travelling. If I could only do one more thing in life, it would be travelling. I was terrified that the most important part of my life would be over with the baby. I was also afraid that our attempt to combine my life and the baby would go wrong. My father simply thought our plan was crazy.
Our plan? Travelling to Tarifa in Spain by car for a month. That’s a nice 2,800 kilometres from Regensburg, including stopovers. Parents we know said that a maximum of four hours’ drive a day would be feasible with a baby. We didn’t book anything at all in advance and just went with how the baby was feeling. In the end, we came to two realisations: Our baby is the most stress-free and favourite child in the world. But travelling with a baby is still endlessly exhausting. (more…)
Crash! Boom! Bang! Uh!
A little travel guide to the Philippines. I love travelling, and I have to. Because if you don’t love travelling for its own sake, you really have a problem in the Philippines.
Judging by their questions in the Philippines forums, many German visitors in particular seem to have no idea what travelling here is like. Impossible schedules meet unrealisable wishes. Time for some realism. (more…)
So free @ Boracay
Boracay is almost unrecognisable after the lockdown and radical renovation. There were queues of up to two hours in the harbour for registration and boat tickets. Once we arrived on Boracay, we were happy to wait another half an hour in the taxi queue and then spend up to another hour in a traffic jam for the five kilometres to the Bulabog. Today we need just 45 minutes from Caticlan harbour to our accommodation instead of three and a half hours. Boracay is finally free.
At Bulabog we run straight into many friends from Mindoro. It’s still a bit windy. Sebastian goes out for his first ride straight after checking in at Niu Ohana. I take my Edge to the Freestyle Academy for repairs. Thank you very much for the quick and inexpensive replacement of my strut valve! As the kite won’t be ready until the next morning, we immediately head out into a stormy night. (more…)
50th Roskilde Festival
The festival, which takes place near the small Danish town of Roskilde, is one of the biggest festivals in Europe with at least 130,000 visitors plus 25,000 helpers. Good friends and regular visitors said it was a must-see. So after two years of hibernation, I travelled directly from the InMusic Festival in Zagreb, a good 1,400 km away, which is quite small with 20,000 visitors.
I’m really over-celebrated and really tired. I also don’t like big crowds. And the line-up of the 50th Roskilde Festival is the worst for many years. After a week of partying, three things are clear to me. Firstly, with 180 bands and eight stages, everyone will find their gold. Secondly, not all that glitters is gold. Thirdly, digging for gold is usually a very dirty business. (more…)
Ciao Sicily!
In the last of my five weeks in Sicily, the Scirocco churns over Lo Stagnone for a few more days. The heaviest day drops back down to 12 degrees and peaks of up to 45 knots. Hardly anyone is outside, and even the friends and locals who ride this ultra-strong storm with the smallest kites don’t break their best marks.
I take a break and don’t go out again until a day later. The Scirocco continues to blast along at a slightly less rough 20 to 35 knots. I no longer fulfil my “Don Dodeci” mission, but I am satisfied with the 9.4m height I have achieved. The last few days my knee finally gives out. I can’t even edge without screaming – let alone jump off or even land. (more…)
Corleone & thermal baths of Segesta
As big fans of “The Godfather”, Corleone was naturally at the top of our list as the home town of practically all of Sicily’s big mafia bosses. According to four different sat navs in the car, it takes an hour and a half to get there. None of them is right. The country roads turn into dirt tracks several times.
The first two routes are completely closed. We ignore the third complete closure. After a few kilometres with potholes until just before Australia, the road quickly drops 40 cm across its entire width. We get over it, but definitely not back. After two and a half hours we arrive in Corleone. (more…)
The mysteries of Trapani are solved!
The Mysteries of Trapani are one of the most important Christian festivals in Sicily. In a 24-hour procession, hundreds of believers carry twenty statues of saints weighing up to a tonne through the old town of Trapani on Good Friday at 2.00 pm. They are accompanied by numerous large brass bands.
We arrive in Trapani’s old town centre in time for the start and are immediately blown away by the sound. The first band seems to be playing the Godfather’s theme music. A slow Jesus rave in a minor key begins with marches around 70 BPM. Despite the cool weather, the porters are sweating from the very first minute. The mysteries of Trapani are the essence of the Catholic faith, which is celebrated even more powerfully in Sicily than in Bavaria. (more…)
In the Zingaro National Park
The Zingaro National Park is located at the north-western tip of Sicily between Castellamare del Golfo and San Vito lo Capo. It can be reached within an hour by car from Lo Stagnone, regardless of whether you choose the northern or southern entrance. We drive to the entrance via narrow winding roads and the south. The entrance fee is five euros.
In the 1980s, the largest environmental protection movement in Sicily to date was formed here. The government wanted to build a road from Castellamare del Golfo to San Vito lo Capo. The entrance to the national park is the only completed tunnel in the project. The conservationists won. (more…)
Salemi & Selinunte
My friend Tom and my wife are visiting me in Sicily. The first day together offers a good, powerful Scirocco and a bright, cool sunny day on the beach. I’m out kiting for almost three hours in total. Tom has unfortunately forgotten a lot in the four years since his beginner’s kite course in Egypt.
During his course, I realise for the first time what a hell of a sporting achievement the kite instructors here are. Running after the student for 100 metres dozens of times in soft mud up to 30 cm deep is extremely exhausting and frustrates Tom too. (more…)
Sicilian post-corona blues
I was absolutely certain: corona is a mental illness and it mainly affects those who don’t have it. I was wrong. Just two weeks after testing free from my corona infection, I’m still finding it hard to breathe. I set off on my first big trip in two years and fly to Sicily for the first time with Ryan Air. The checkout is a true masterpiece of superfluous “offers”.
The taxi driver charges me €50 for an eleven kilometre journey from the airport to my first accommodation. The hostel manager confirms that the price is the same everywhere. Nothing mafia. Just Putin. The driver said it was because of the petrol prices. They are currently about 40 cents lower than in Germany. (more…)
A journey through Postfactistan
I love travelling and people who think differently. They are my home. I respect discussion and even though I may often offend people with my sometimes extreme opinions, I always make an effort to either respect and understand other opinions – or to change them in objective discussions. The latter often also applies to my own.
Corona has finally sealed the demise of any meaningful culture of debate. The brilliant Israeli polymath Yuval Harari predicted back in 2016 in his deeply disturbing book “Homo Deus” that the internet would destroy democracies and ultimately humanity. Unfortunately, I can only agree with him today. (more…)
Samos
As the last island on our journey across the Dodecanese, Samos inspires us from the very first moment. The catamaran arrives in the old capital Pythagorio in the evening in heavy seas. By the time we check into the very fine Belvedere Hotel 600 metres behind the harbour, we are soaking wet. We walk through old narrow alleyways to the castle, to the ruins of an early Christian basilica and again to a good Greek garden restaurant.
Early the next morning we walk to the oldest and longest tunnel in the world, bored from two sides. Within a good 10 years around 540 BC, Euclides managed to join the two tunnels with a horizontal deviation of just two metres over a good kilometre using trigonometry alone. There were more problems vertically: Euclides had miscalculated the gradient for the aqueduct. The slaves were therefore also allowed to dig a trench up to eight metres deep into the limestone at the southern end. (more…)
Lipsi: Of Sense And Nonsense
Lipsi is the smallest island on our tour. Settled since the Bronze Age, for centuries Lipsi served solely as a goat pasture for the monastery on the larger neighbouring island of Patmos. Today, Lipsi has just 700 inhabitants and is the only place in a wide area that serves water in glass bottles to its 8,000 overnight guests every year.
The village is committed to ecotourism. Plastic sun loungers and jet skis are therefore banned. Lipsi is the only island in the Dodecanese to practise waste separation. Our green dot has been around for over 30 years – and for just as long we have tolerated the fact that 60% ends up in waste incineration for “thermal recycling”. On Lipsi, all the wonderfully separated waste seems to end up in a single, poorly secured landfill site – with a fantastic view of the Aegean Sea. (more…)
The Author
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.