Our last two nights in Sardinia were spent in Baunei at the Hotel Goloritze. Another thing I quickly learned about Europe is that the second floor of a hotel is actually the third floor. In this case that meant four flights of stairs (no elevator). The hotel “parking lot” had room for three cars which meant that at times we had to park on the street or back out of the parking lot into the narrow road where other guests had parked directly across from the driveway. It was always an adventure.

Since restaurants in most of Europe don’t open for dinner until 7:30 p.m., we decided to drive into the small downtown to find a place to eat. We went early, hoping to find both a restaurant that was open and a parking place. We managed to find a parking place within a long line of parked cars and a restaurant that allowed us to enjoy a drink on their patio while we waited for them to open. I made the mistake (even though it was advertised as local and fresh) of ordering lamb chops and was surprised when my chops arrived breaded. I think it was just a way to cover up the fat and gristle as they were barely edible, even after requesting a steak knife. A perfect end to dinner was returning to the car to find a €50 parking ticket on the windshield, no parking places in the hotel parking lot and a motorcycle tour staying at the hotel with their bikes parked in every nook and cranny. 

We were in Baunei as it was a short drive to the trailhead for Cala Goloritzé, the site of Arco Goloritzé. It wasn’t until the night before our planned hike that I seriously mapped the route to the trailhead and the arch. My first revelation was that there was a fee and controlled access as the beach was a National Monument. My second revelation was that it was sold out for the next day, our only full day in Baunei. (I bought tickets for the following day thinking that I could, as a foreigner, talk my way in.) My third revelation was that it was a two and a quarter mile steep downhill hike to the beach with 1,700’ of elevation gain on the return. My fourth, and final revelation was that the arch was not accessible. It was on the right side of the rocky cove, and you could either swim to it or take a boat.

So, off we went after breakfast. Our wrong-day pass worked fine (and they were still selling passes for that day), and we started down the trail. About an hour later, we got our first view of the stunning pebble beach. It had been formed by a landslide in 1962 and is renowned by climbers for an imposing spire which rises 470 feet above the bay (and blocks access to the arch). After another 30 minutes, we arrived at the beach and circled around to the left side of the cove where I could see the arch. We hadn’t hiked in our swimsuits, so Cynny settled into the shaded rocks, while I tried to figure out how to make an interesting photo. I was in no hurry to begin the long uphill hike back, but eventually it was inevitable and off we went. There is a restaurant at the trailhead and no problem with parking, so after the seemingly endless hike back up to the trailhead, we found a shaded picnic table and enjoyed an early dinner, thus eliminating the problems of the previous night.

The next morning, before leaving town, we walked down to the police station to contest our ticket, but they didn’t open until 1 p.m., so we left town and figured that the fine would catch up with us sooner or later or that we’d live out our lives as parking felons.