We wake feeling like we’ve been smacked around the head with a mallet. A night of little sleep and lots of jolts from the gusts of wind and pelting hail. The rain has cleared the air and the sea is a mirror, which is unusual for the west coast. The weather pays dividends for the farmer, washing excess sand in to the pot holes and making his sosta nice and flat. On the other hand, Vin the motorhome looks like he’s acquired a dado rail. With the bottom half splashed in sand followed by a layer of dried seagrass and a dirt rim.
We look at the weather forecast, which suggests more heavy rain by mid afternoon. With that we pack up and head over to the town of Bosa. The drive takes just over an hour. As we approach to the town there is no mistaking the place. A startling burst of brightly coloured buildings nestled in a valley by the sea. Perched on a hill with a medieval castle sitting like the cherry on the cake. We drive towards the free sosta at the base of the river.
Within minutes of our arrival giant raindrops slowly pelt Vin. For once, we are spared a soaking and opt for an afternoon cuppa and a slice of cake. The rain gradually increases along with the thunder and lightening and by 6pm the storm is in full swing. The dogs really don’t like thunder, so we snuggle down to an evening under the fluffy blankets to help deaden the sound.
Our Bumble free motorhome sosta at Bosa GPS position: N040.294759, E008.498906
We wake and after breakfast we head off for a wander. The town has a right mix of cultures. From afar it has a tinge of North Africa with palm trees, to Spain for the red tiled roofs and stone buildings and France for the wrought iron balconies. In the core, the cobbled streets and architectural details have you wondering if you’re not further north in Italy. The constant invasion has left a colourful mark, a bit like the villages at Clique Terra. (click to enlarge photos)
We wander around the narrow streets observing life as folk dash from baker to butcher chatting away. The atmosphere is friendly with locals enjoying morning banter and plenty smiling faces. We slowly walk a meandering path up Serravalle hill to the castle. From the top the vista of the river down the valley is beautiful. Bosa castle, erected by the wealthy Genoese Malaspina family in 1112, is a worthy visit, as much for the great views of the town and the coast, as for the history.
From the castle we notice Bosa Marina about two kilometres away. So we slowly wind our way back down through the town, across the river and back to Vin. We fired him up. Headed to the supermarket and then over to the marina. It was quiet with hardly anyone around. We are not sure if thats to do with the time of year or the fact its blowing a gale? It a fantastic beach in a crescent shaped harbour, which Mac n Tosh explore at will. Running, digging, playing and enjoying the freedom to roam.
Early evening and Craig was looking all frowns. A face I know all too well, he wants to move. Where to, I ask. He is not sure but he fancies a drive along the coast. The weather is calm after the storm and perfect for a bumble, so we pack up and head off. The drive is superb with hardly any traffic on the road. The west coast is about drama and our drive takes us where cliffs plunge seaward in a stunning vertical landscape of precipitous crags, forests and not a single resort in sight.
We pull over on a small headland car park and what a find. It is brilliant. Nice clean parking, stone walls and little beach cove. Just in time for a quick walk with the dudes as the sunsets, our favourite time of day.