Day: 1 85 km | 4h 29m | 1,447m
Obscenely hot, the kind of heat that melts your motivation.
Roads so steep I had to zigzag across the whole width just to climb them.
First encounter with the local dogs – an omen for the days ahead.
Still managed to snag a QOM on the first day, i’ll that it.
Day 2: 126 km | 7h 32m | 1,828m
Spotted by a group of cyclists and they immediately bought me a coffee. The universal cyclist bond!
Google Translate and ChatGPT became my new travel companions, helping me navigate menus, signs, and the conversations.
The climbing today was spectacular – riding through the clouds and discovering the magic of a nasal dilator.
Stayed at my first campsite and met a few fellow bikepackers swapping stories.
Dinner was fresh fish – I left my phone to charge and spent the evening people-watching.
Day 3: 122 km | 5h 28m | 1,643m
Such a long, unforgettable day.
The morning began with a ride to Neptune’s Grotto, only to find the gates closed. Instead I stumbled upon a quiet bay where I had coffee and went snorkeling in perfect stillness.
Pushed on to Sassari for lunch — authentic Sardinian food served by a waiter so warm and generous. He said I needed plenty of carbohydrates to ride my bike.
The afternoon brought endless climbs, remote roads, and the occasional barking dog echoing through the hills. At one point, I reached the top of a long ascent, completely alone, and just cried — part exhaustion, part awe, part release.
The day ended with an exhilarating descent to a coastal campsite buzzing with friendly Germans. I sat by the sea with a sunset and a 0% beer.
Day 4: 42 km | 2h | 708m | The Dog Day
Got spotted and chased by the usual white shepherd dog.
Aborted the ride early and headed back to camp.
Got a puncture on a descent and forgot a multi tool.
Found a tyre shop and it was fixed quickly with no charge.
Grateful and content, spent the day resting at the beach instead.
Second day of the campsite’s tuna & artichoke salad.
Day 5: 87 km | 3h 23m | 912m
Woke up with the kind of motivation only a coastal sunrise can give, packed the bike, and hit the road north.
By midmorning, I rolled into Santa Teresa, a laid-back surf town. Naturally, I joined the ritual: strong coffee first, then a dive into the blue.
The beach was crowded, the waves loud, and my legs grateful for the break. I floated, caffeinated and content.
Then came lunch at PeMe, Three people sat alone, each person fully absorbed in their own delicious world. It felt like a secret society of independent eaters, silently united by good food.
Finished the day amongst windsurfers on Seagull Island.
Day 6 : 64 km | 2h 51m | 773m
Arrived in Porto Cervo and ended up chatting with a Londoner who knew the island like a local.
Celebrated the moment with the first Aperol Spritz of the trip, enjoyed mid-swim while drifting toward the millionaire yachts.
The day ended less glamorously: a terrifying encounter with three dogs on the dark road to my guesthouse. I walked past them trembling but victorious rewarded at last with blessed air conditioning and the sweet hum of accomplishment.
Day 7: 88 km | 3h 30m | 1,143m
Rode a loop without any gear on the bike, just me, the road, and pure joy.
Breakfast in San Pantaleo came with another kind waiter.
Lunch in Arzachena was the full three-course treatment, served by a kind old man who took his hosting seriously. Halfway through, he told me — with a wag of his finger — to put down my phone and enjoy my meal. He was right, of course.
I swam in the sea one last time before returning to San Pantaleo, where I dined alone for the final time on this trip.
As dusk fell fast over the mountains, I raced the fading light back to the barking dogs, chasing the last glow of another perfect day.
Day 8: 27 km | 1h 06m | 300m
Returned to San Pantaleo for one last breakfast and one final climb to earn it. The legs complained, but the promise of coffee pulled me up.
At the café, I met a group of Australians in their sixties who were full of stories. They insisted on buying me a cocktail (yes, at breakfast) and even picked up the tab for my meal.
We swapped tales of bikepacking and the quirks of bike fits, laughing like old friends who’d known each other for years instead of minutes.
It was the perfect, mellow ending to the journey, an easy cruise into Olbia, returning the bike with tired legs, a full heart, and satisfaction that only comes after a trip like this.
