Day 10 Bonaficio to Pinarello

First on the list for today…Porta Vecchio. The town itself has a height restriction that resembles the “you must be this tall to ride this roller coaster” sign. We parked outside city center with all the buses and meandered through the town. The port is a major working harbor, so it was not the picturesque view I had expected to see. The town itself was nice with lots of little shops and if you were a foodie, you would be very happy with all the little bistros and cafes. In the tourism office, the desk clerk was thrilled to find out we were from the bay area. “I LOVE SAN FRANCISCO & BERKELEY!,” she exclaimed. She is a dancer and her group goes on tour once a year.

Back in the camper we planned our next part of our day. Going to Plage de Palombaggio was a no go since it was down a dirt road. Now when I say “dirt road,” I don’t mean the dirt roads like we drove the camper on in New Zealand. These are roads that would break the camper and/or with the overhanging trees would do some major damage to the roofline.

We made our way to Pinarello. The Gulf of Pinarello is huge and the shallow waters extend a great distance so that you can walk in waste high water for what seems like forever. The water is so clear, there is no need to snorkel, just look straight down at your feet to view the white sandy bottom and the little fish that dart around. Across the bay is the Genoese Tower on the point. We rarely have ever just had a beach day on any or our journeys, so while Matt napped on the beach in the shade, I played in the water for the afternoon.

When it was time to head out and find a campsite, we followed the signs to “California Camp Grounds.” Upon arrival, we asked the manager if a site was available. It sounded like he told us to go get some food, so the confused looks on our faces only annoyed him. He asked, “Eh what nationality are you?” We responded, “American.” His smug reply, “Ah but of course, you see I am French.” I swear it took everything to control my inside voice and not sarcastically say, “Well Yeah You!” He sent us off to choose any site we wish. Upon returning with our selection, there were a ton of hoops to jump through including something about the electricity not being available until 7:30. That was followed with “34 euro please.” I looked at Matt and said, “Let’s go.” We are paying an average of 17-20 Euros per night, plus the manager was just really rude.

Up the road we discovered Santa Lucia’s Campgrounds. This campgrounds are completely empty as far as we can tell. I feel like this place could be the setting for a Stephen King novel. For the first hour we were here, we enjoyed the sounds of gunfire and hounds on the hunt. Turns out it is wild boar season and they were hunting on the property next door. It was rather ironic that during the sounds of the hunt, we were munching down on our pork salami.