Sardinia Easter Tour
Ben Richards, Matti Mitropoulos, Ellie Pizey, Chris Hayes, Jan Kożuszek, Wojtek Sowinski, Julien Jean, Laura Temple, Fan Wan, Magor Pocsvelier, Thurston Blount, Jackie Li, Aurelia Eberhard, Remi Soubes-Goldman, Claryce Yap, Leonie Siepmann, Josie Skirrow
Pre Tour (Sat Mar 15th - Sat Mar 22nd)
Yes that's right - this tour had it's own sub-tour.
This was probably the most ambitious Easter Tour in the club's history. With 17 people to entertain for a week it was already one of the largest in the club's history (perhaps 2nd ever to the 18-strong team of last year's Ardèche tour?) but after realising the terrible flight options would mean each bag taken by plane would cost around £300, the logistics stepped up into overdrive to make this trip happen at all.
Weeks before, Thurston had jokingly said that we should just drive to Sardinia because two cars drove to the Ardèche and it sounded fun. Naturally at the time this was dismissed as insane - after all it would require leaving one island, driving across the Alps only to try and get onto another island on the other side. It would also be a longer drive than we do to Slovenia, require double the number of ferries, and even when you arrived in Sardinia you'd have to drive another couple hours just to get to the caving region. Shockingly this is exactly what ended up happening as Thurston, Remi and Laura took the Cactus on an epic voyage, fillled to the brim, and weighted down to the axel.
However, this car trip would take 3 days and two nights to complete. This meant that if they left and returned to London at the same times as everyone else, the tour would have no kit for half the week. In order to pull this one off we instead decided for the car team to drive out a week earlier, and get back a few days later than everyone else. But if they're out there a week early... it would be a shame to waste all that time in the sun right? Sounds like a pre tour is in order! Luckily the periodic cycle of startup implosion had timed itself such that I could join for an extra week, and Julien and Thurston are of course inseperable so Julien joined for this bonus week as well. Since it was at the end of term, delaying the return trip didn't make much difference but on the way out the undergrads still supposedly had degrees to continue. Laura managed to skive off of some gorup projects, Julien and Thurston managed to convince a professor to move an entire exam out the way and Remi forfeited an exam of his own to make this tour happen.
Sat to Mon - And so it Begins
The drive went mostly to plan - just to complicate things further I layered on some freight logistics to make the most of the chaos. I had ordered some via ferrata sets to be delivered to Sardinia to be picked up en-route (which was missaively delayed but saw some usage in Gorropu in the end) and I arranged for the three cave links to be deliverd to Tanguy in Switzerland by the car. Unfortunately they arrived in the dead of night, Tanguy was fast asleep so had left them a cryptic video clue to find his outhouse to leave them in, which the drivers did after getting a cheeky two hour sleep next to his washing machine. Given snow all around they apparently hardly slept anyway with the cold, so left the cave links and drove off into the sunrise as they continued across the alps and towards their 11 hour ferry journey to Sardinia.
This ferry arrived early Monday morning in Olbia, just when Julien and I were flying out to the opposite end of the island in Cagliari. Thurston the hero offered to continue his three day drive another 4 hours each way by coming to pick us up in the freshly emptied Cactus, however this turned out to be a disasterous decision when all the roads closed that evening and the return journey took over 5 hours. Thanks Thurston!
Ben
Tuesday - Beach and Bobo
Our little hut for the pre-tour was the cheapest listed accomodation on the island. And shockingly it was lovely! A couple minutes from the beach, we went for a morning swim in what turned out to be very cold water indeed. Not to worry - the leaky club wetsuits did a decent job of floating us all around for as long as we could bear. Back at the house we figured out an ingeneous way to throw the wetsuits throw the upper floor window straight into the shower for washing.
In the evening we met with the legenary Bobo who had invited us to his house after I messaged him back and forth over the last few weeks about planning. This was fantastic - Bobo decided to see how much delicious local Sardinia food he could make us all eat before we physically exploded and I loved every minute of it. First was a large round of Pizza, to lure us into the trap of gorging ourselves right away. Naturally we all fell for this. Second course immediately followed and was a large charcuterie board of hard and soft cheeses, dried hams, tomatoes from his garden, a bowl of delicious olives, salamis and seeminly bottomless resserves of beer. Third course was the famous music paper bread that Sardinia is known for. His technique was to gently toast these over his open fire behind us, and to combine this with either the charcuterie or other chocolate spreads and honey that hten appeared as well. Sensing our slowing of both pace and pulse, he lept with one final blow to finish us off - a plate of boiled eggs. This was so insane at the time that we all died of laughter. I think I managed an egg. To wash this all down then came a course of hard spirits, which was when we were introduced to the now legendary "fire water" which seems to be made of all the bad parts of the grape plant distilled into oblivion, and certainly tasted like it. To get us home came a sixth source of fantasticly tasty Sardinian coffee. Batting away offers of crisps and more sheets of bread, we finally tapped out.
This whole time we had been playing charades with Bobo since he sopke a few words of broken English, which is much more than can be said for my Italian. Google translate came to the rescue, consisting of Bobo speaking into my phone while the rest of us patiently waited. What often followed was a look of shock as we all saw the translation, followed by an eruption of laughter at quotes such as "this cave is like a spider's arse hole", and similar. We actually managed to chat very effectively in this way, and we found out lots of key information about the surrounding caves, as well as Bobo calling up a friend of his who manages the keys for Su Bentu and the surrouding caves. In the future it's definitly best to go through Bobo, his club Speleo Club Nuoro, or some other local caver as they know everything inside out, including the various regulation changes that had happened since I last visited.
Just when we thought there couldn't be any more, Bobo warmed our hearts by offering us a selection of his books as gifts, and his prized photo book as a loan for the rest of the week we were here. These were invaluable for planning our later trips and I've since scanned them and uploaded them to the Google Drive. he also gave Thurston some mining books, Remi the remainder of the fire water as well as some other spirits and Laura a large jar of honey as he'd of course immediately sussed our her sweet tooth. Remi wadled away. While we had brought him a bottle of whiskey, we left deeply in his debt after all the food, books, advice and contacts - thank you again Bobo!!
Ben
Wednesday - Bonifacio
I cannot remember why, but there was some reason why today had to be the big roadtrip day. Perhaps it was work related for the undergrads. Who knows. Either way Remi bailed on his important tasks and we all set off to visit, of all places, France!
Leonie had highly recommended Bonifacio on the southern tip of Corsica, and we found that there is indeed a direct ferry there and back, that was the perfect day trip and meant we could explore the north of the island on the way.
I navigated Thurston and the others for a very long time up a very bad road on the edge of a cliff, the whole time withholding what it was we were going to see. I found this a lot of fun and it drove the others mad, only for me to proudly jump out of the car in the middle of nowhere, with the other traffic on this road having been reduced to confused hiking groups, only to pronounce the aim of our trip this large rock that looked slightly like an elephant. Ta-da! The others thought this was hilarious. I promise.
In reality, here was supposed to be a fantastic view from a forest fire lookout at the top of this large hill, but unfortunately the road was so bad that we left the cactus half way and ran up and down again. The view was fantastic, and we could see all the way to treasure island as we had named it (tavolara) in the south, and corsica to the north. After this debacle we were actually running quite late for the ferry so we zoomed off, but not before spotting the holy grail of caving loot - a road sign in a far off country that had falled off and was lying on the ground. This is where that Monti di Pinu sign came from in stores by the way. One for the history books right there. Yes this sign was then driven back across more country boarders than you can imagine.
Bonifacio was stunning - a tiny town perched above the massive cliffs. It was quite chilly being out of season, but that meant we had the whole place to ourselves. We wandered aimlessly through the streets, down the deathly-steep staircase of aragon right the way to the sea, licked the walls, climbed back up again, hiked to the fortifications at the far end of the island, hiked back again, got scammed by some local corner shop as the only open place to purchase food, and then hopped back on a late ferry where we all became obsessed with taking panorama portraits of each other.
Ben
Thursday - Canyon Hike
Well, some minimal amounts of work were done in the morning before inevitably everyone got bored an wanted to go enjoy Sardinia. We'd seen tourist boards advertise a nearby waterfall hike, and from the map it looked like you could drive right upt to it in the mountains - The cascades of Rio Pitrisconi on Monte Nieddu. The road wasn't quite as simple as google maps made it seem, and we bailed and left the Cactus a few km short, only to later see a tiny european car bounce it's way past us at full throttle.
There's a circular loop that looked very doable, and it was a lovely, if quite steep, bimble around the canyon and surrounding hils. It turns out this is a classic local canyon, and mayb approaches and traverses were perma-rigged on varying degrees of tat. There were also waiting stands and signs, presumably for guided canyoning tours who were dropped off and picked up at various points. A lovely little hike with some very impressive cliffs, views and waterfalls. If you do go again - just commit and drive all the way, it's basically fine and there's a large car park at the top. In fairness given the roads we drove on later in the tour we would have done this if we'd been using a hire car instead of the prized cactus.
In the evening we remated some pane carasau, while the others consumed some minty chocolate snacks while watching Clarkson's farm. Thurston and Juien felt this was the exact vibe to start doing claims, and Laura felt this was the exact moment to steal the whole jar of honey and take it to bed.
Ben
Friday - Donk Valley Cave
Locoli caves: Ben Richards, Julien Jean, Thurston Blount
Well, Thurston and I felt great in the morning and were raring to go caving. There was no sign of Laura or Remi, and Julien was awake but severly regretting being so.
Thurston and I decided to go visit an easy swimming cave I visited the year before - Locoli. There were also some other small caves around so we knew we could scout out some new attractions for the club while being rewarded with that sweet sweet cave count. Julien was dragged along on this trip, but Laura and Remi decided against leaving the house.
Leaving the car we were immediately surrounded by Donkeys. Their magnificent screams echoed off of the valey walls and one lone horse in the background seemed to share our thoughts of wishing we too were donks. Also at this exact moment Chris seemed to have clipped all the walkie talkies to his chest while cycling to campus. Thank you Google Photos.
Unfortunately the rest of the photos from that day are currently locked in the cave phone that we took and killed while swimming in the main cave. Big sadness. Hopefully we will at least be able to get those photos off of it.
The other small caves were actually very fun. There was a small cluster of them around the river valley, and from the great surveys on the Sardinian cataster, the only challenge was wading through the undergrowth to the pinned gps locations. Also don't do the small dry caves in the wetsuit. Terrible idea. Much heat.
Another link to the Cataster since it's so amazing and has all the info on it you could possible need:
www.catastospeleologicoregionale.sardegna.it
First up: Sa Conca De Su Gadu De Sa Pira
This cave was actually very fun, but even more difficult to find than it was to remember the name of. We just went along the river bank for a while, split up and then all found different ways in simultaneously.
Comprised of a series of stooping height tunnels, a decently pretty little chamber in the middle linked them altogether. Off to the side of this was a very small crawl which ws presumably the way to all the other entrances. Out the back was a rifty crawl with some more ways on, some nicely decorated, and popping out at a higher entrance further up the river bank.
Eventually we got so hot from being in wetsuits in a dry and warm cave that we had to stop crawling around and escape the blistering heat.
Second: Conca 'e Crapa
With a name like that we had to go see how bad it was.
Turns out - it's beautiful! If this is a "crap" cave in Sardinia, then never bring a Sardinian caver over to the UK. A walk-in entrance covered in salamanders opened out into a small chamber, still walking height, until a short drop. Here there was a dead tree ladder, where the branches perfectly formed an easy climb up or down. Beyond this the cave continued a little further, well decorated, before ending in some small crawls that didn't look worth the effort.
It was a little hard to find being in the middle of some overgrowth by the side of a field, but other than that this was well worth a quick visit, if nothing else then just for the name and salamanders.
Third and finally before the big one, Sa Conchedda De Locoli
From the survey we were expecting this to be much more of a real cave, but in fact this seemed to be a small flooded chamber. Perhaps there's more someone else above in the rocks, but the entrance by the metal cetastral number plate was completely flooded and so naturally we dove in with diving masks. Considering we all were at one point completely below the water I think that dedication alone deserves it's addition to our cave counts.
The relief from the boiling sweaty heat of the wetsuits was fantastic. The cave however seemed little more than a resurgance from the main Locoli cave further up the valley. We could see the small flooded chamber continued down but with only snorkelling masks this seemed like a lead not worth pursuing.
The main attraction, cave number four: Sa Conca Manna De Locoli
At last! However, since I was last here they had put up a large amout of infrastructure all over the place. Bobo had warned us that there was some engineering related to local water source investigations, but there was considerably more than we were expecting. The whole cave had been turned into a series of bolted gangways on cables (which made it increidbly easy) and a large fence had been put up over the entrance, with a door in the side that was wide open and had no locks or similar on it to be seen. We decided to tentatively take a look inside, but it didn't seem as though anything was currently going on so we poked around until we reached the end.
Much of the swimming was no longer necessary because of the gangways everywhere, but at the end there was still the huge pool that I remembered with the small entranceway into a second large chamber. At the end of this a large pipe and many ropes descende directly down, so far that they merged with the crystal blue of the water. It's always a little odd looking directly beneath you to see a bottomless chamber, but with ropes everywhere to pull on this was a lot of fun. Thurston and Julien dove down a fair way here (this is probably the moment the cave phone's water ingress occurred RIP) which looked awesome with their headlights disappearing down into the gloomy blue depths.
We headed back and just as I had discovered the paralell passage last time I was here, we accidently found it once again. This time however we had the dive masks so Thurston and Julien could confirm that the duck was actually very short, and before long they were on the other side. Without a mask I got a little help from them pulling me out the other side, and looking at the survey we realised we were in the branch containing the duck named after Bobo himself. Poking around the next sump looked pretty terrifying, and the window turned out to open onto a branch of cave we'd already visited so we headed back through the two ducks we just passed and back out into the sunshine. Based on the strong smell of cigarettes, someone else had probably popped into the cave behind us but there was no sign of them on our way out. We realised the cave phone was stuck in an eternal boot loop on the way back to the car and it has been in a coma ever since.
That evening we felt like a meal on the town so found a pizza place in San Teodoro (strictly it was a Rome style Pinsa restaurant, not pizza but whatever) and followed this was a stroll around the town + ice cream. The evening concluded with Laura taking an entire tub of yogurt upstairs to bed, and Remi carrying a pail of water while looking like the local vagabond, wrapped in his duvet.
Tomorrow the younglings would arrive and our glorious tart trip of a pre-tour would come to an end. Alas!
Ben
Main Tour (Sat Mar 22nd - Sun Mar 30th)
Saturday
Pre-tour gang
The morning was spent hudled around laptops, eating all the left over food, putting pegs on Remi's nipples and cleaning up the flat. Matti had arrived early so one car went to pick him up, while the others helped me clean up. I tried to cook a load of the weird sardinian cous cous pasta and it was unbearably salty because it absorbed literally all of the water and therefore all the salt as well. Disaster. Apologies.
After Matti had been fetched, the others returned and we set off with cars laden with rubbish - headed for the nearest disposal site. Not long after we were zooming away from our beloved San Teodoro, and off to Cala Gonone, our home for the next week. Our car was a little late and France, the poor man I'd been harassing by email over the crazy requirements of such a large number of cavers, greeted us and showed us around the three whole apartments I'd rented out for the week. These spanned two floors, three balconies, and downstairs one of the flats had a huge outdoor area that was perfect for assembling a large group dining table, with space to dump kit around the sides. One of the countless rooms was designated as a gear store, and emptied out for all our bags. Various electric fans were tucked into beds for no apparent reason. The pre-tour gang snatched up all the upstairs beds, leaving the downstairs for the riff raff arriving in the early hours of the morning.
Ben
Milan sightseeing
Let’s just get into it.
At night some crazy couple screamed repeatedly on the street outside our window. I did not think about it again all through the morning train to Gatwick and meeting the gang, nor when I called my dad to wish him happy birthday, not even when I took my amazing seat in the front row of the plane and immediately drifted back to sleep. I only remember it now, looking out the windows at the grey and wet sky over Milan.
The gods of airline ticket pricing have made it their wish that we spend several hours here, so we might as well make the most of it. All I’d seen of Milan before now was the inside of its rail station, so I’m more than happy to remedy this, and I did some quick research while we waited for our plane in London. But first, food – one of my many Italian contacts said a chain called Miscusi was good, so that’s where we’re headed. This turns out to be a modern pasta joint, and they have just enough space for a team of hungry cavers, helmets bobbing oddly on their hand-luggage-rules-compliant backpacks. Great success.
Now it’s off to the Duomo. I remark that it’s probably the third most recognisable church in Europe, but after running this question across a totally representative sample of some friends, I will no longer be so sure. Regardless, I’ve unwittingly taken over this whole day, and everyone is blindly following me downtown. Soon we see it – reaching up with its spires, almost the same colour as the clouded sky above. The square in front is filled with people, and long queues spill from all entrances. We don’t have the time nor the will to bother with that. Quick selfie and we’re off, through the Vittorio Emanuele II gallery and on to the Castello Sforzesco. On the way I have a brief gossip session with Ellie, in particular concerning the C+J situation. This will be monitored as the trip progresses.
The castle is cool. Chris keeps staring at the little holes in the walls, remarking that he would love to stick a pole in there. How interesting. I pay 5€ to enter a gallery devoted to a Michelangelo sculpture. It turns out to literally just be that sculpture. I am joined by Ellie and Josie, who paid less because they are students and Not Old. Perhaps at their price it is more worth it. Still, the sculpture is cool. A pieta half-finished, giving the impression as if Mary was pulling Jesus back into the stone, away from the world that would treat him so cruelly. Outside, the group has finally dispersed slightly. We wait for some to return, before I again gather a little circle of followers and go off to see some Roman columns I saw on Google Maps. Next to these we also find a truly ancient church, parts of it dating to the 4th century, and mostly free to enter. How could I resist?
Then it’s time for food, some expensive but tasty pizza slices that I order looking at Claryce who stayed outside and is watching happily through the display window. We eat in a park named after my boy John Paul II before zooming on the metro back to Linate. The security goes super quickly, and we position ourselves at the Gaming Zone TM to wait. Then going to the gate, Ellie and I are concerned we can’t see Magor anywhere. He’d gone left the group at the castle, determined to catch up on sleep. Could he have got lost?
No. He is in fact right in front of us, asleep on a tall chair, curled over, his finger half an inch above the screen of his phone. The last YouTube short he watched is still on, looping over and over in front of his sightless eyes.
Then it’s a quick flight to Olbia and a dash with Chris to pick up the rentals before we incur a charge for being late. The drive goes smoothly, and I don’t even remember who exactly was in my car as they made basically no noise the whole way. Finally at our villa, I physically prevent Magor from taking over the room with the double bed and claim it for myself. Let the Tour begin!
Jan
My journey begins with a cheeky 04:45 start and a realisation that, despite my efforts to sweat out my fever by intensely overheating my body overnight, I’m still quite ill. I continue my efforts by layering up and conducting the entire journey whilst sweating profusely; surprisingly successfully, I should add. Despite abusing my body for another day, I was completely up from the sickness by Sunday morning. But first things first:
Since there’s no direct flights I stop off in Milano for a mid-morning stroll. Some key takeaways: -I was amazed that, despite it being Saturday morning, pretty much all shops only opened at 10:30 ish. -The tube connection between LIN and the city centre puts the Elizabeth line, needless to say the Picadilly line, to shame. Admittedly geography is on their side, but that seems like a Heathrow problem. -Milano centre has proper rich people vibes, but the cobbled streets and trolleybuses have charm. Shame about the toll it takes on cycling infrastructure though. Can recommend for ice cream: https://maps.app.goo.gl/aDH9kuMRecXGzNmM7. Cheap, super tasty, and quite central.
And soon I was whisked off over the Mediterranean, onto idyllic Sardinia. As before, I slept through the flight, only awakening on touchdown. Here I met with half of the pre-tour group to collect the shiny new car (literally new – it had a total of 16 km on the odometer) which Laura proceeded to drive over a curb and down the wrong way in a car park. I had already come to love the Italian way though – everything is said and done with just a little pizzazz, a touch of drama, even if its just hiring out a car.
Eventually we made it to the pre-tour crib, where random caving gear in various states of moistness were strewn across the patio and garden. I helped them clean up, and desecrate the shiny cars with muddy detritus and vast quantities of extremely carefully separated rubbish. Despite the bamboozlingly automated and unnecessarily complex rubbish depo, Julien’s genius idea of taking a photo of the displayed QR code and showing it back to itself somehow made it open up, and we were able to deposit the leaky bags. Continuing south we left the lusher, greener Olbia region, and entered the more arid mountains of the Nuoro region. A slight detour down a side street in Dorgali turned out to be a huge mistake – we were sucked into the ever-narrowing streets like lobsters into a crabtrap, Laura desperately trying not to scratch parked cars as we crawled past, an annoyed Italian behind us, navigating the perilous cobbled streets with ease despite his equally wide car. Ben’s navigator skills eventually led us to safety though, and through the hill we drove, down to Cala Gonone as it was gradually cast into shadow by the looming hills.
After successfully claiming a safe bed, and consuming dinner prepped by Remi, I decided to hit the sack early on grounds of lingering sickness instead of waiting for the riffraff to arrive sometime at 2am or so.
Matti
Sunday
Murgulavo: Ben Richards, Julien Jean, Laura Temple, Thurston Blount, Aurelia Eberhard, Remi Soubes-Goldman, Leonie Siepmann
And just like that, the tour had begun!
A quick trip to the shops was successfully sabotaged as soon as I suggested that Chris our driver take a detour to a "nearby viewpoint" which in fairness was very nearby horizontally, given it was a hundred metres or so vertically above the road tunnel. The roads were apauling and Chris did a stoic job of protecting the beautiful shiny hire car from my terrible decision making. This ended up causing no end of chaos, but it had a lovely view and a lovely footpath through the old tunnel which looked cool. Thurston on the other hand had managed to go caving already, dragging Magor and Leonie to an unreasonably nearby cave just 5 minutes down the road from the accomodation that he'd found on cataster. As I would find out later in the week, this tiny cave was in fact very pretty, albeit short.
A breakfast feast was spread on the vast outdoor table once we were back, and after some discussion and research we decided to go for Murgulavo and Lovettecannas as our two warm up trips of the tour. Murgulavo was a recommendation from a Sardinian caver who we met in the UK - thanks you Babs!! - and Lovettecannas was actually a recommendation from the Tangmeitster himself, so noone really had any idea what these caves would be like but they would probably be worthwhile.
Setting off we followed the stunning snaking road as it wound its way up from Cala Gonone, through the mountain tunnel and then joined the magnificent:
Strada statale 125 Orientale Sarda
Which Google Maps would butcher the pronunciation of every single time. It turns out this road is so awsome that it has its own Wikipedia page and everything. Well worth checking it out, simply stunning. Unfortunately the same beautiful winding zig zags that make it a dream for GT car touring, make it the perfect car sickness inducer, and this was the main road to all of the caves for the next week. Oops, sorry guys.
Not long afterwards we received messages saying that one of the groups was hopelessly lost, having been unable to find the turning onto the dirt road. Our car successfully rescued them and before long we reached the appalingly bad dirt track that we needed to follow up to the caves.
The cactus gives a valient effort explodes it a ball of fire, mainly locallised to the clutch based on smell. Thurston rightly decides that it's not worth the risk, so we abandon it in a lay by, shove half the car in one of the rentals that's passing by and Aurelia, Thurston and I start the long trek up the mountain while we wait for the shuttle to return to take us the rest of the way. Braving wild boars and beautiful scenery we eventually get picked up, driven past "the bollock dog" who has the largest pair of plums in Sardinia, which also happens to be hyper-aggressive, and we pull up to see everyone waiting for us in the car park.
After shooing the Lovettecannas team away to their hole in the ground, Thurston eye's up a swim in the car park but is dragged away. The cave is quite a pain to finally pin down, briefly interrupted by an adorable group of baby pigs, and after one last photo shoot the entrance pitch is rigged, and the caving begun.
After rigging the first pitch off of a nearby large tree, together with a significantly smaller bush as a deviation, the entrance was a pretty terrible rift. A bit muddy, a bit twatty, but it was cave and for that we were thankful to be out of the heat of the sun. Particularly twatty with my huge Peli case of camera gear. There were a few flowstones and curtains, but the further we got the weirder it became. After reaching the bottom of the few pitches, the rocks looked weird. It was as if their textures had not downloaded properly, as they were speckled with black and white. Thurston announced this was granite, which is very odd for a cave, and all were intrigued.
Finally the cave started to open out with a large room full of stals. At the far end - a wall of flowstone and stals through which was a squeeze to a handlined pitch. Beyond this a small streamway of granite led to another, even larger chamber visible off to the side which was completely decked out in huge stals and flowstones. From the survey we could see this was really quite large, and luckily it had some in situ rigging to help us up a short up-pitch. This chamber had the most deliciou looking cave pearls, as well as one slot of cave pearly that looked just like polystyrene balls, in a large pile.
I snuck in one cheeky photo of Julien, and then swapped him out for Leonie - this photo was later on the back cover of Descent I'll have you know! Remi and Laura were winging about dying of hypothermia so eventually I wrapped things up and we headed out. It was dark by the time we left, and from the photos it seems as though all we ate for dinner were weirdly coloured prawns and burnt pane carasau.
Ben
Lovettecannas: Matti Mitropoulos, Ellie Pizey, Chris Hayes, Jan Kożuszek, Wojtek Sowinski, Jackie Li, Claryce Yap, Josie Skirrow
Cold! The room is cold! Must go out. Warm! Outside is warm! Glorious. It seems we are going caving. I have been assigned a cave. It is called Lovettecannas which is oddly long if you ask me. Let’s go.
The drive is incredible. Possibly the most beautiful I have ever done. After the hairpins up and out from Cala Gonnone, we turn left, and the road twists and turns, hugging the mountainside, as to the front and right a sprawling valley opens up, magnificent. The car carries us up, above a mountain pass and onto the other slope of the massif, so that the left-side passengers can also feast their eyes on the glory. We make one wrong turn, reverse and are now driving right behind Chris. Left turn, tarmac is gone, car is shaking. Ardeche flashbacks. Will the rentals survive? Then road gets better, but only marginally, and keeps going and going into the wild mountain country, land claimed by cows and goats and pigs.
The ‘parking’ we were navigating to is just a big puddle, so we carefully position cars around it. Matti, desperate to go caving, immediately begins to change into his kit. Fool. The rest of us disperse into the rocks and shrubs in search of the cave entrance. This is a daunting task and soon I hear Chris and Ellie calling that they are going back to the cars to get changed first. Fools. I continue on my own, across a rocky ridge into a small, lush valley, and again up some rocks. Here, using a pdf that Ben has put on the chat in the meantime, and a sliver of phone signal I catch up here, I finally find it. Hidden under a pile of branches, a hole in the rock, howling with draft. Back to the car I go.
Matti complains that we could have done all that after changing into caving kit. Fool. The other caving group is slowly arriving, having been forced to leave the Cactus along the way, so as not to destroy its clutch. Using and Julien’s watch map we manage to find a better route to the cave that avoids having to scramble up and above the ridge, but at least my lonesome adventure means we don’t waste any more time looking for the entrance itself. It is 3pm when we finally get down.
For a non-SRT cave, Lovettecannas descends with remarkable speed. I go first but end up in a blind passage and have to go out to follow the tail end of the group, who find in the correct route in the meantime. Isn’t it written that the last shall be first? Thankfully from now on the way forward is signposted with reflective markers. Chris took a cheap little camera down and is taking photos left and right. Down two handlines, through some large passages and a small-ish climb, I find myself at the streamway with Matti and Josie. Matti immediately starts drinking from the stream, before we point out to him the numerous little white bugs enjoying their lives in the water. As far as I know he is still alive at the time of writing, so it was all good. After this rest spot there is a short wet crawl, which causes some in the second half of the group to start losing their enthusiasm. Couldn’t be me though. I go through with Matti, and we’re joined by Wojtek and Josie and informed that everyone else decided to head out. Wonderful.
Beyond this point, the cave continues down on its incline, following a few smaller passages. At some point a climb up leads us to a crawl. I can hear Matti struggling mightily to make it through. A shiver goes down my spine – surely this is not the way? Indeed it isn’t, and a few steps back there is a turn we missed. The two routes turn out to converge, so Josie decides to do the crawl just for sport. On the other side she seems happy, but incredibly muddy.
We scramble across some boulders for a few moments before the cave opens up into a vast chamber, filled with huge pieces of rock, and with formations, some intact, some broken, lying spread on the cavern floor. Somewhere to the right, water is flowing smoothly downwards. Looking at the survey later we will find it very hard it to interpret, but this is most likely Polypheme. This would mean there is another, even larger chamber just below – but for us the agreed turnaround time is nigh, so after spending some 15 minutes bumbling about and letting out the occasional ‘ooh’ or ‘aah’ we begin the way back.
This goes smoothly, barring Matti trying to take a wrong turn here or there, and accidentally bypassing one of the handlines. After the wet crawl we even find that Chris has left us a note explaining their plan, and the handline that Matti skipped features a conspicuously ICCC-looking bag containing a bottle of water. Honestly really nice of the other team, much appreciated. Soon we are out in the night, a tremendous amount of fun and discovery in less than four hours of caving.
Confidently we begin retracing our steps back to the car. At a circular pile of rocks I distinctly remember turning left on the way to the cave, so now I turn right.
‘I think this is the way guys’ says Josie from the other side of the pile.
But I feel so sure!
‘This looks very clear’ says Josie.
‘I think Jan might be right’ says Matti.
I should have known it was the wrong way when Matti threw his weight behind me. Soon we are scrambling up and above the rock ridge in the last fleeting rays of sunlight. Still, we get back to the car, and only get mildly terrified when a large pig starts making noises at us from the dark. It has many cute babies and another large companion. Matti scares them off when they try to get too close (read: enter) the car, and soon we are on our merry way.
Jan
I woke earlier than most and had some time to kill before anything would happen, so went for a walk to the shops to buy some essentials. Once people started trickling to the breakfast table it became clear we needed more food, so a few of us sped off in Chris’ car to Dorgali to find things to eat. We stopped off at a Crai Supermarket, which turned out to be super fancy and quite expensive, so literally underneath it is a warehouse-type shop with mountains of olive oil outside, MD, where the cheapos go for sustenance. We cautiously sneak in, and Chris immediately insists we need to find a different shop as the price of cheese was too high. I eventually convince him that we’re unlikely to find anything cheaper in town, so we just buy exorbitant quantities of cheap pasta instead. And not much else. We realise at the hut we didn’t really plan this very well, and were missing quite a few critical items to make a normal meal, but that was a problem for future us. Current us wanted to go caving.
Ben began to plan out the two caves we can do without keys or permits over some stracciatella yoghurt. Off we drive, enjoying truly stunning landscapes and extraordinarily smooth roads at first – however, as was foretold by those who had been before, the landscapes lingered, while the roads became little more than dirt tracks. Although Chris was quite careful not to prangue the bottom, we sustained many a bush scratch and pebble fling, and it took quite a while to reach the ‘car park’ – which, turned out to be one gigantic puddle. Never mind, we squeezed our car in, and shortly after, Jan’s car rolls up.
I’ll spare you the pissy rant cos I actually got kinda annoyed, but in short: lots of time is wasted, but around 4pm the team finally entered the cave. It took us a little while to clock what the point of seemingly randomly positioned bike reflectors were supposed to be, but after the third or fourth it became clear – it was a system marking the best route; follow yellow for in, red for out. Quite a system, and works brilliantly.
The cave itself was a fantastically fun and beautifully decorated vertical yet SRT-less playground, where I had great fun speeding out front to check the way on with childish excitement, running back to check the others had found the correct way, and repeating (in my defence, I hadn’t been caving since winter tour, and glad to finally be caving, so was a bit excitable). At some point we had to go through a bit of a wet crawl, where we unexpectedly lost the hydrophobic half of the group, but the less water-shy group carried on for an hour or so into a spectacularly decorated, enormous chamber: the perfect turnaround point, just before turnaround time.
Way back was uneventful – back through the wet crawl, back through the squeezy entrance bit, always following the red reflectors. Out within a few hours, feeling like I’d done far more caving that I’d actually done.
A slightly chaotic wander back to the car ended in everyone getting a little bit freaked out by the large wild pigs that were a little too curious about the contents of the car, but thankfully they didn’t attempt to hijack the seats.
Matti
Monday
Su Bentu: Ellie Pizey, Julien Jean, Laura Temple, Thurston Blount, Remi Soubes-Goldman, Leonie Siepmann, Josie Skirrow
The Su Bentu Seven
- I -Half a league, half a league,
Oh god, not one more bloody league onward!
Along the iron road,
Scrambled the seven cavers.
"Forward, to the cooling stream!" they cried.
Along the iron road,
Sweated the seven cavers.
Their carabineers wearing thin,
Dreams of golden shores long gone,
Along the iron road,
Steadily undressing went the seven cavers.
Alas! When hope was but lost,
A new call was heard,
"I see a pitch!"
To the end of the iron road,
Survived seven overdressed cavers.
- II -In brown shallows, the mangy lot found their reprieve.
Out came the floats,
On went the flippers.
Then down into clear blue depths,
Slid the seven cavers.
Paddling, gasping, spitting,
They dragged filled wellies from shore to shore,
Over crags and pools.
Along the river’s course,
Swam the seven cavers.
Soon they landed on dry sands,
A yog banquet, their last demand.
"Back to the iron road!" they sighed.
"Back to the iron road!" they cried.
Their time had come, their journey near done.
Remi
Tisacali: Chris Hayes, Fan Wan, Magor Pocsvelier, Jackie Li, Aurelia Eberhard
A group went in search of Tiscali. I don't think they found it. From memory I think they just walked around a lot, then hiked up a mountain or something like that? Unclear.
Su Palu: Ben Richards, Matti Mitropoulos, Jan Kożuszek, Wojtek Sowinski, Claryce Yap
I do not have much to add to the two incredible reports below other than this morning I felt like an absolute gangster dealer when leaving the largest wodge of cash I've held in my life in a random cupboard.
Anyway, the time had come to revisit my favourite Easter Tour cave of all time, and this time with all my camera kit. The hype was off the scale.
Ben
The good thing about organising trips with Ben is that together we have enough swaying power to actually make people stick to a timetable. But the bad thing, the bad thing’s the same. It’s 8am, maybe one or two minutes past, and Ben, myself, Wojtek, Matti and Claryce are packed up, in the car, ready to go. It’s the Su Palu trip so we’re in for a long one.
Ben, the only one from the gang to have visited before, has hyped Su Palu up for quite literally a year. Not joking – if you look at last year’s Easter Tour report, he favourably compares it to Noel. Noel! The pressure is on.
We take the same road as yesterday, letting out gasps at the same stunning spots as before. They’re just as amazing the second time around. Not long before the left turn for Lovettecannas we instead turn right and hairpin down to the town of Urzulei. It takes its seat at the end of a stunning valley, looking over lush fields and orchards and pastures. It is also in the process of waking up right as we enter, cars and little lorries navigating its narrow streets. First stop is to pick up the keys to Su Palu. Ben goes into a shop and re-emerges with a merry Italian man who doesn’t seem to speak a word of English. Instead, he points at our little group and asks something. “Si, tutti speleo!” – Ben’s Italian is perfectly sufficient for this communication. Now the man looks at me, down, up, the whole deal. With amazement, he proclaims
“Grande speleo!”
Joy ensues all around. Matti is so amused that he tries to get into the wrong car when we try to leave. It’s time for breakfast and shopping now. I did a little bit of research ahead and found a sandwich place that should be open by now, so that’s where we’re going. On the spot, we find it’s only just being prepared for the day, with another merry Italian man putting various meat items on the display. “Colazione?”. It’s my turn to flex my language skills. He points to some cold and miserable looking sandwiches on a shelf behind us. Oh, the disappointment! But the plot of the day keeps twisting like a meandering river, and the guy manages to convey that he can also heat something up for us, if we want. Dear reader, do I need to tell you that we do? We order five sausage sandwiches, as I saw some online reviews rave about those, while Matti and Ben go grocery shopping.
The morning is beautiful, and the rest of us pass the time by watching the man employed to water the town’s plants do his job. Then the lads are back, and then the sandwiches are here, and they are delicious. The man makes a little impression of wide shoulders as he passes them to me – the people of Urzulei seem to be baffled by my size. Brimming with happiness, we get back in the car and drive off. We get back some 15 minutes later – Ben and Matti forgot to take the shopping, so enraptured were they in their sandwich joy. Brimming with happiness, we get back in the car and drive off.
This time the road is (mostly) tarmacked all the way to the parking spot, so I can concentrate on avoiding the seeming hundreds of pigs crossing our route wherever they seem fit. The shoebody bop comes on the radio, having been put on the playlist with the explicit purpose of annoying people, and quickly cements itself in the brain stems of my passengers. And then we’re there, out of reach of any phone signal, getting changed and admiring a bridge with no floor left.
A quick walk in the gorge, and a scramble up some gravel, and we’re at the entrance. The first passage is a little tight, leading to an srt descent down a kind of smooth rock slide. Loud banging noises come from the direction of Ben. He is carrying a huge box with all his camera equipment on his back, trying not to smash it completely on all the rocks and the walls and also the ceiling. What a man.
We follow a low streamway for a little bit before coming across the crawl. This was advertised ahead of time as the only shitty bit of the cave, and it is indeed Not Very Nice. Still, it is only a few metres long, and I manage to squeeze through quickly, barely even dipping my face in the water.
Now the passage opens up, taking us past our first formations, with the first photo opportunities gladly taken. It’s only phone photography for now, not the big guns, so even having three people take turns sitting inside what looks like a little flowstone church pulpit does not take us much time.
Then there’s a large chamber, and Matti confidently strolls forward, dragging the rest of the group in his wake. At the back, I am looking with curiosity at a rock with a big arrow pointing up and to the right, at a slope with a handline. It’s not long until the gang realise they are trying to walk into a waterfall, and come back to take this, correct, route.
The traverse that follows is quite twatty, involving narrow platforms, long steps, and awkward drops. Still, with general mutual support, we make it through and land back in the streamway on the other side of the rapids. A few more minutes of bending down in the passage before the ceiling suddenly disappears somewhere above and we are standing on the shores of a lake. Its waters are cold and still, stretching into the darkness that hides the far walls of the cavern. Opposite us, in the rock, a gaping maw opens. Water spews out of it into the lake, joining the streamway we have followed. A confluence of the two Niles. Wojtek and I take a plunge. Refreshing, clear.
To go forwards we must step back and climb up. Over a few rocks, up a slope, into a new, sandy passage. Again a large chamber, the site of the old camp: El Alamein. The naming convention for this part of the cave is, for some reason, Egyptian. We pause on the smooth, soft sand. We eat and listen to Ben talk about the last trip he did here.
From here it’s not long until Lilliput. Just as the name suggests, it is huge. A massive flowstone formation welcomes us into this space, a tall but comparatively narrow chamber, the roof escaping the light of even our brightest torches. And it keeps going, the walls escaping away and closing in again and again as we scramble along endless boulders. The rock is bare, the huge flowstone entrance giving way to austere sharpness.
It's hard to decide what to do now. We still have some time before we need to stop, but where could we go after seeing this? The first climb I try leads to a rock with the words “NO BUENO” painted across it. Ominous. Turns out that’s just how they called the bit of cave that follows. Instead we try another way, struggling against the terrible survey. There is an in-situ rope seemingly not indicated at all on the map, but fortunately we don’t need to follow it up. A little extra effort takes us to find the Tesoro di Morgan, a lavishly decorated chamber where formations drip from every available surface. It is also, unless one follows that in-situ, a dead end. A perfect time to turn around. We sit on a flowstone bench to eat and celebrate.
On the way back through Lilliput we pause for the long ritual of taking Ben photos. This takes well over an hour, but the results will be worth it. Three people hold flashes, Ben holds the camera itself, one lucky person is the model. We finish with Claryce taking a photo of Ben, at the site where he took his first cave photo on the previous Sardinia tour, under the huge flowstone.
And then it’s back across El Alamein, along the shore of the lake, up a pitch and across the nasty traverse and back down into the streamway and we are getting really really tired at this point and getting through the many bottles of water that I insisted on bringing and carrying on my back the whole way. And suddenly we’re at the annoying crawl, and it is somehow a lot more annoying this way through and my face is half in the water and my oversuit is catching on the rocks as I push and push forward and then I pop free and breathe freely.
Only a few more steps now. Prusik up the incline wall. A touch of cold, fresh wind on my face. Stars up above the valley.
A drive back in the dark.
Soft mattress on the bed.
Jan
A crack team for the crackest of caves, Su Palu. Minimalist group sizes led to timely departures, as we sped off to the random hilariously friendly shop keeper who handed us the key without any form of confirmation other than
‘Ben?’
‘Yes’
‘Fantastic!’
Onwards to breakfast, which after some slightly confused ordering ended up being some genuinely amazing bacon rolls, thanks to Jan’s negotiating skills.
Onwards to the cave- oh wait shit we forgot the food. Backtrack 10 minutes – ok got the food. Now onwards to the cave. Parking by the skeleton of a vintage bridge which was fun to clamber around on, trying not to fall into the violent river below. Then we actually got changed.
Onwards to the entrance, which is an unassuming small gate at the end of a branch of a lightly trodden track at the end of the Road of a Thousand Pigs.
A chill SRT section spits us into a narrow streamway which we follow until the duck – here I first double check with Ben this that is actually the way before committing. As with all ducks, you first kneel in the water, contemplating your life decisions. Then you cry and exclaim in pain as cold water washes over you. Then you spend a few seconds panting on the other end. Then you stand up and think to yourself ‘huh that wasn’t that bad’, and shout ‘duck free! Its not that bad!’
Deeper and deeper we went, watching as the character of the cave gradually swelled into vast chambers, one of which was the old camp location, discontinued because the vast quantity of faeces left behind by the happy campers became too obstructive to the continuing passage. After reaching the stunningly decorated ‘Morgan’s Treasure’ dead end chamber we divvy up the remaining food, and plan out the photo spots.
Many hours later, Ben announces his ferocious lust for flashing had been satiated, and we pack together the toys. Back through the chambers, through the duck, up the streamway, up the SRT, and into the cold drizzly night we emerge. Hearty singing brought some comfort to the suffocating darkness during the long drive back.
Matti
Tuesday
Su Bentu: Matti Mitropoulos, Chris Hayes, Magor Pocsvelier, Jackie Li, Aurelia Eberhard
After hearing yesterday’s group proclaim their wild tales desperately trying to survive the harsh trials of Su Bentu, wherein the long hours of dehydration and despair culminate in the seven of them diving into the first puddly oases they come across, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect to say the least. The drive was unproblematic, Chris navigating the unsteady road with ease, and we were even greeted by a cat at the random house or church or tourist office we parked at. A lazy change and an easy walk led to the very cavey entrance – I remember Remi describing it as ‘picture the stereotypical cave in Minecraft, that’s what it looks like’ – and wandered into the gloom. A bit of faff at the gate, but soon we were in.
The via ferrata is probably the best bit, in my unbiased hydrophobic opinion. 2 hours of fantastically grand decorated caverns with no navigation and ropework (/cablework?) just difficult enough to keep it interesting but not hard enough that there’s big queues? What’s not to like? (well severe dehydration I guess, but just get good nephrons and you’ll be fine).
Some cheeky Chris-style photos and a few leisurely breaks, and we made it to the watery bit in no time. Unlike the other team, we entered with slightly more decorum, gently wading into the deep pools. While it was quite surreal floating through the vast chasms, where even my Fenix couldn’t light the ceilings, I ended up just getting quite cold so I wasn’t massively keen to splash around much. Interestingly, Chris has an even greater avoidance of water than I do, but our reactions were vastly different: I became very slow and deliberate, floating gently with minimal movement; Chris, on the other hand, violently bounced from wall to wall, splashing and diving with maximal movement. Each to their own I guess; maybe if I ever find a wetsuit that actually fits me I’ll enjoy these caves more.
Anyway we eventually made it to some drier chambers where we unpacked the celebratory cave champagne and brownie cake. Chris’ warning earlier (‘careful: cave champagne hits harder than surface champagne’) rang true, and I felt the small bottle quite significantly on the way out. Maybe that was one of the reasons Chris and I spent the entire return journey belting out any and all songs we knew the lyrics to. The fantastic acoustics of the vast dry caverns with the via ferrata also egged us on – hopefully it wasn’t too annoying to the others. I had a great time.
An easy evening with some italian beer and light chatting brought the tour to a close for me.
Matti
Tiscali: Ben Richards, Jan Kożuszek, Fan Wan, Leonie Siepmann
Tiscali
One of all the very stunning caves of Sardinia is Tiscali. It is ‘only’ a ~100-meter pitch into a huge chamber, that can be exited walking at the bottom. Ben, Jan, Fan and I therefore decided to explore it for the whole rest of our day. I dressed matching to the weather: shorts, t-Shirt, harness. Though these clothes are rather questionable for caving, it interestingly turned out to be one of the only clever decisions made that day. But let’s start at the beginning.
We were told that the cave is very hard to find, past a wooden gate on a certain cliff. Ben, competent as he certainly is with charts, soon found an ancient village ‘Tiscali’ “on the way” and we decided to visit it as well. We drove into the valley, picked up the cave keys, shouldered our things, and started the hike. Still near the parking lot we heard gunshot sounds in the distance but decided to not bother. We were to stay on the hiking path, right? What should happen…
We were halfway up the mountain, when we decided, to leave our caving gear, to pick it back up on our way to the cave, so we could proceed on our way to the village much easier. It truly was a nice hike, even though we walked on incredibly sharp karst rock (note to self: never again choose barefoot shoes for such hikes). What I enjoyed most where the stunning views on our way. The Tiscali-village turned out to be even better: A true stone age village ruin, that lets you understand, why people bothered to hike up all mountain, to find a place so shaded from wind and weather, but still light and airy.
After visiting this beautiful village, we picked up our caving gear again and made our way towards the cave entrance. Though the way we were supposed to go, was not very easy to make out, we found chains from time to time and some rock looked worn enough, hopefully?!
We encountered a fence, with no gate, but two poles were tied together with a rope, so we assumed that it must be the right way. On the other side, two lovely puppies greeted us with lots of kisses and started us following us along the path. Soon after that, we found mama dog. She did an amazing watchdog job, barking very loudly, making it very clear, that she didn’t like us to be on her side of the fence. But luckily stayed close to the sheep, she protected, so we continued anyway.
Then we found the other side of the fence, and yes it had the cliff on the other side, great! But the wooden gate? Where was it? We decided to climb the fence at a point, where the wooden fence structure was more rigid and the stones around high enough. Good so far, but where was the cave now? The cliff was very steep, and we had to do lots of little climbs. Eventually Ben found the cave. The description of previous cave reports we had, that the cave is hard to find, is perfectly accurate, by the way.
After the lucky feelings having finally found the cave, an amazing lunch, and some rainy drizzles, we started investigating how to rigg the cave. It wasn’t exactly obvious. We found a tree to start with. But then… lots of bolts, … and more bolts… and at this point, it should have been very straight forward, had there been any bolt hangers. Yes, you heard correctly, there were no hangers. And even the person handing us the keys earlier, didn’t bother to mention that. We hence abseiled the first 30 meters, looked at the cave from the top, where the rebelay is supposed to be and enjoyed the stunning echo. Before prosecuting back up.
After derigging, we decided to search the cave exit and started the hike back. Still on the cliff, we first climbed back up and over the fence. Back on the way we started walking downhill towards the parking lot, until we found a gate. Not exactly wooden. Instead, steady metal topped with barbed wire and lots of signs on the other side, which’s writing we could only guess. Moreover, a chain and a huge lock. But as the fence around was barbed wire as well, so certainly not climbable, and we were trapped inside, with mama dog in behind. So, we had a closer look at the gate. Could we squeeze underneath? Not quite an option. But… the cain was not actually connected to the lock on the other side, and we could reach it! Once we made it to the other side, we looked closer at the signs. We also remembered the gunshot sounds earlier got a very bad feeling. There was a gun pictured next to a “keep out” sign. Maybe, the rope closed poles were not meant to be a gate. But given the fact that we were on the ‘right side’ of the fence now, we continued to the cave exit.
We reached the cave exit at sunset. Welcomed by lots of bats, we made the near crawl towards the big chamber. With some limbo, clear walkable. And yes, the chamber is truly epic.
For everyone not wanting to do all the torture finding the cave entrance, which we, looking back, would clearly not recommend anyway, go straight to the cave exit and have a look at the big chamber. No cave gear or cloth needed but pack a good torch. Its big! We had a short look at the night sky through the cave entrance, the little Christian crib, and all the formations. Then we went home through the night.
Here some tips if you want to repeat that trip:
Bring money for the ancient village, it’s a museum
Wear good hiking shoes
Take a backpack for your stuff. No tackle sack needed, but your back will thank you
Bring bolt Hangers!!!
And rope protection against rope rub
Look at open street map or equivalent, to find the cave
Plan lots of time to find it
Don’t forget to pick up the key
People are said to have achieved the descent. Apart from two groups failing this year, it is certainly possible!
Leonie
WARNING: DO NOT GO TO TOP ENTRANCE!!!!
After Monday I am very tired. So tired in fact that I wish only to have a chill, non-caving day. I even got a piece of a cactus taped to my head! What could be more chill?
So of course, soon I find myself in a car with Ben, Fan and Leonie, off to a remote valley to do some caving. In my defense, the cave, Tiscali, was meant to be quick and breezy, and on the way there we were going to check out an ancient village. In no universe is there a version of me that would resist the appeal of that.
The road into the valley is a new level of terrible, consisting of more hole than surface. We quickly lose all mobile signal, and it takes quite a while before we reach the designated parking spot. Walk up from there, admire views. Shimmy through a narrow opening in the rock, and scramble over some rocks, and go around to the other side of the mountain we are on, to find a friendly Italian man waiting to sell us tickets.
The tickets are to see the village, and the village is a few circular arrangements of stone, completely hidden from the outside world inside the hollow tip of the mountain, maybe an old collapsed cave. Very cool!
Walk back, fearing rain. Rains for a second, then stops. Ben has a map, we have specific instructions where to go, what could go wrong? The map leads us onto some sharp rocks, with a few cairns to reassure us we’re not going crazy. Somewhere down in the valley we hear the barking of dogs. What could have startled them? Rocks, rocks, sharp rocks. Leonie is not wearing the right boots for this.
Then, a fence. Map says to keep going, but no way forward. Simple, just untie the piece of string keeping the fence together, it’s almost like a gate, surely we’re meant to go through. So we do. Easy path down now.
Then barking again, and suddenly two dogs out of the bushes. Dangerous? My heart speeds up a little, but no, these are puppies, very very friendly, they try to kiss Fan. Further below is mama dog, watching us from a distance, making sure we don’t come any closer to her goats. Good dog.
Walk further down. A house within the cliff face, man sitting there, eyeing us with hostility. Says nothing. Below another cliff face, another fence. We’re meant to find a ‘wooden gate’ in said fence. It does not exist. What does exist is a few wooden pieces within the fence that we can use to climb over to the other side.
Great, now we’re on top of a sharp, rocky drop. We carefully climb down and to our right. The cave entrance must be somewhere here! A sharp rock tears a hole in my trousers. It’s ok. They were on their way out anyway.
At this point we’ve spent hours on our journey to find Tiscali, and it’s been infinitely harder than we expected. But finally, here it is: a vertical drop into an abyss, its floor invisible in the dark. Amazing.
Ben gets ready to rig, I sit down to read for a minute.
There are no hangers on the bolts.
What
There are no hangers on the bolts.
We can’t go down the cave.
Ben rigs off a tree to go find the first rebelay. He finds it, and shouts:
There are no hangers on the bolts.
We have to abandon the attempt, though Leonie and Fan do go down to at least see the rebelay. Ben comes back out and discovers the long-lost cave phone at the bottom of a bothy bag. At least one benefit of this experience. Climb back up, over the annoying fence, then walk down the road. The path is closed, with a gate, fence, barbed wire.
What is happening
Before anyone attempts to climb over the barbed wire, we realise the gate can just be opened, the huge lock on its chain isn’t actually holding anything together. On the other side, looking back, we find a sign telling us to proceed no further, warning of dogs and of guns. I guess we weren’t meant to be where we just came from. Walk all the way down to the bottom of the valley, find another ‘no entry’ sign. Scribbled on it in Italian it seems to say that there is no access to the top entrance to Tiscali. This would have been good to know around 5 hours prior. Or if the guide the gang talked to the day before about going to Tiscali, if he said a word about this, or the hangers. That would have been swell.
Might as well walk to the bottom entrance now. It’s another hour, but at least this time with no complications. It’s already dark by the time we’re underground. Crawl down, beneath a bat colony, through an obvious dig.
Then a huge chamber. Up above, the last of the light of day visible – the top entrance, so devoid of hangers. Formations rise up around us, indifferent and beautiful. Under one, a small box. A nativity scene, left alone in the dark.
We get out after twenty minutes or so. Walk back to the car, drive away. Exhausted once more.
Would recommend the bottom entrance, though.
Jan
Hike: Thurston, Ellie, Julien, Laura, Remi, Josie
The others faffed around in the hut for a while, then went for a hike somewhere (trog village maybe?) and Thurston took a giant bite out of an innocent prickly pear cactus minding its own business. Madness.
Wednesday
Road trip: South edition
Not quite sure what happened but I think Josie, Chris, Wojtek and Claryce set out south so that Claryce could be dropped off at Cagliari airport. Based on the photos they went to some beaches along the way and as per usual Chris found an excuse to remove the majority of his clothing while striking a pose.
Road trip: North edition
Road triiiip! Germans in the car, Leonie, Aurelia, Fan and Matti. Matti dropped off in Olbia, flying away. The rest of us go further north, a few stops in seaside places. All feeling pretty dead. At the north end of the Island, we catch a ferry over to Bonifacio on Corsica. Up on the rocks, crowded medieval houses overlooking the sea. The cliff face scarred by a staircase descending diagonally to the water. Beautiful views. Aurelia and Leonie disappear, apparently end up finding a cave and climbing some part of the city’s foundations? We just go for a meal, most restaurants are closed but the one that we manage to sit down in turns out to be delightful.
Get some phone charge on the ferry back, drive in the dark.
So tired.
Jan
The day to leave for me. Jan very kindly offered to drop me to Olbia airport, saving me the faff of terrible public transport, after which he and the remaining Germans disappeared off north, and I flew back via Rome. I had the most amazing pizza for lunch in a random street market in Trastevere (https://maps.app.goo.gl/Ko8pjKFf3iBWpfGo6) before heading onwards, as my presence was demanded at work on Thursday.
Matti
Road trip - Treasure island attempt: Ben, Thurston, Laura, Remi, Julien
Our mission was simple - pick up the via ferrrata harnesses that had arrived super later, so we dropped off near the pre-tour house, then commander a boat or all sit atom Thurston as we cross the open seas to treasure island, where we were to be greeted by King Tonino (yes that's his title, yes the island is a kingdom, yes it has a large Nato military base on it as well, look it up) at which point we would complete a large via ferrata on the island and return home to champagne and medals. Shockingly this plan felt apart immediately, as although we did pick up the via ferrata sets, all the boats weren't running because it was too early in the year, the weather looked terrible and it was so late in the afternoon.
Instead, we headed back home, spotted a crazy village on a hill, went to the top of said village, drove on, stopped to see an ancient nuraghic buriel chamber, and then finally headed home as the storm chased us over the mountains.
As the sun started to hang low in the sky, Thurston, Julien and I became restless so set out to explore the local caves, one of which Thurston had seen before but two others of which were as of yet unexplored, and looked very close on the map.
The first cave which Thurston poked in on Monday was great, had some lovely formations, one flat out crawl and then chockingly on the other side a single bar of 4g reception, presumably through the roof? Very odd. We could have lived in here the entire week and saved on accomodation.
The other caves proved much harder to find - in the end we only found one of them, and the location for it was completely wrong. After scouring the beautiful limestone pavement for a good hour, watching sunset over the two below us with the blue sea wrapped around it, we were about to give up when Thurston shouted from far far away that he'd finally found it!
Inside was yet another stunning, formation covered cave. This was very small, but big enough to climb down a large cascade into a lower chamber that seemed to immediately die. The walls were encrusted in helictites, stals from the ceiling and the floor was all flowstone - well worth the effort!
Much fun and chaos in the evening involving pineapples, a potato doing an impression of Remi, an enormous jar of wine and a cheesecake.
Ben
Thursday
Su Palu: Chris Hayes, Laura Temple, Aurelia Eberhard, Remi Soubes-Goldman, Leonie Siepmann
A team went to Su Palu and successfully made it to Lilliput.
Mystery Sea Cave: Jan, Ellie and Julien
Wake up, eat some breakfast, go back to sleep.
Oh, it’s 2pm?
I join Julien and Ellie on a chill walk to a beach. We swim for a little bit, into a ‘sea cave’. Just a small nook in the cliff face. Cave count, maybe? After the swim back out Julien claims he has ‘never been colder in his life’. This seems suspicious, but I do give up my jacket and wait for him and Ellie to go back up to human temperature.
We walk up, planning to loop through a nuraghic village and back down to Cala Gonnone. Ellie discusses her life and career plans. By the time we get all the way up, she and Julien realise they both left their goggles at the beach, so we have to go back down and then walk the same way we came. I make sure to make fun of them for this to a sufficient degree.
Then a shop, Fan makes a nice dinner. Finally a chill day. And good, because tomorrow, Su Bentu!
Jan
Donini: Ben Richards, Thurston Blount, Jackie Li, Josie Skirrow
Babs - the Sardinian caver in the UK who had recommended us the very good value Murgulavo, had also given us one recommendation above all others: Donini. Bobo had then also hyped up this cave, and so it was near the top of our lists, and I had a day spare before doing Su Bentu tomorrow. The only problem was it was a pull through that no one in the club had ever been to before. Oh and also it's in the mighty Goroppu gorge, which has no signal and none of us have been to. Oh and the entire thing is swimming apparently. Oh and the final pitch is a waterfall over 50m tall. A pull through waterfall. 50m. Pull through. What could possibly go wrong. Turns out basically nothing, it was a fantastically successful trip. Who would have thought.
Food in the cave consisted mainly of one very large round cake which would sit at the top of a tackle sack in thin plastic wrapping, hopefully not pop since then it would get wet, and hopefully not be sat on as then it would pop and it would get wet. I'm proud to report I took it all the way through the cave without it popping. Delicious.
Our extensive research beforehand, as well as some help from Bobo's books that he gave us, all paid off and we quickly found the entrance in a canyon a short walk away from the end of the road. Unfortunately yet again the Cactus had to be left a long way further back along said road so the walk ended up taking forever. We dropped the first pith, checked there was a way on, checked everything matched the survey and topo and then... pulled the rope down behind us. There was no going back now.
All decked out in our wetsuits and buoyancy aids, we quickly dropped into the main streamway and had a fantastic time swimming through kilometre after kilometre of huge passageway. Occasionally this would stop, and we'd climb out and clamber over a rock, a ledge, abseil down a short pitch or jump off into another pool. The water was actually very cold and in a club 5mm wetsuit I was still very chilly, but the shear enjoyment of it kept me going - this was a ridiculous amount of fun and unlike any cave I've ever done before.
But the best was yet to come. This river flows through the mountain before reaching the wall of an enormous cliff, at which point it cascades out in a simply gigantic waterfall. The pool before this chamber has a supber view over the valley and the mighty 500m+ gorge in the distance, and after Thurston heroically rigged and descended the pitch first, we followed one by one until I came down last. Walkie talkie comms was great for this, and miraculously they didn't die in all the spray. It was hard to even call this caving, this was definitely underground canyoning - and for that reason alone this is definitely one of my favourite caves of all time. For those wanting to visit - do your research form asking local clubs since if any of the rigging has changed since we visited you'll be in big trouble here, there's no way out if you're stuck in the middle and it's very wet and cold. But once you've done your research, get hyped for what is easily one of the best through trips in Europe!
I tried to convince everyone that we should go see the huge 500m+ gorge just round the corner (update: it is not just around the corner, this was a terrible idea) but rightly this got vetoed after half an hour, no end in sight and no sight of light. We plodded back up the mountain we'd just abseiled down, stopped to visit some more ancient burial chambers (they really are everywhere you step around here) then on up the dirt road to the cactus, tucked away, eagerly waiting our return.
Friday
Sa Conca de Locoli: Chris Hayes, Wojtek Sowinski, Fan Wan, Josie Skirrow
One trip went back to the Locoli swimming cave that the pre tour had visited. They had a nice time. It was chill.
Canyoning: Jackie, Julien, Thurston, Ellie, Remi, Laura, Aurelia
After my big trip the day before, a calm chill-out day was clearly in order. So the idea of the others to do a canyoning tour close to our accommodation came at just the right time. We were expecting a short route of only 3 or 4 pitches (the sources didn't quite agree), so there was no pressure to set off early. Instead, our leisurely breakfast turned into a relaxed lunchtime snack until we finally set off in the afternoon.
We quickly made our way to the first pitch, where I abseiled in daylight for the first time in my caving life (tree training excluded). That's quite something! The last two, higher pitches in particular were great fun. Unfortunately, derigging the pitches turned out to be more difficult than expected, which is why we moved slowly through the canyon with a few breaks. In order to defy any boredom that might arise, and because as cavers you are of course always on the lookout for caves even on non-caving days, we (especially Julien and I) investigated all sorts of suspicious- looking holes in the rock faces along the way. With success!
Two of the holes turned out to be not very deep, rather unspectacular caves. But things were about to get even better: After the last pitch, the canyon widened and revealed many promising potential cave entrances. However, most of them were at unreachable heights. True to the saying ‘All good things come in threes’, Julien and I were determined to find another cave and were not disappointed: At the top of a large stone slope, which already looked suspiciously like a path, we actually discovered a metal ladder leading up to the next rock overhang. And there was the entrance to a huge show cave!
Once everyone had followed us into the cave, we set off to explore. Maps of the cave system were laid out at short intervals, on which the location was marked. There were also specially draped fossils, bone remains and pottery with accompanying explanations, another ladder and, of course, some bats. Not bad :)
We then hiked quickly down the last part of the canyon to the beach, from where we had a great view of the surrounding bays, and finally home. Summary: A relaxed trip in an extremely beautiful landscape with the pleasure of unexpected caving.
Aurelia
Su Bentu:Ben Richards, Jan Kożuszek, Leonie Siepmann
clink
Ben stared in disbelief, the key falling just out of the reach of our hands. With no rope to go forward and the gate shut behind us, we had to face the inevitable and settle down for the long wait. In 24 hours, somebody would come and let us out from this tiny prison. I touched the rock, my bed for the upcoming night. It was cold.
…Is how this story could have ended. That it didn’t is more down to luck than any merit of ours. What did happen, then?
Much like for the Su Palu trip we had to get up bright and early. This was to be a crack team, a bold attempt at reaching the far end of Su Bentu. Just three of us: Leonie, desperate to attend a (to some approximation) faff-less trip; Ben, with his survey and camera and general know-how; and me, because somebody had to drive.
After Ben reassured me that no ropes were necessary for the trip, we set off, back into the remote valley that we’d gone to for Tiscali. Two small breaks on the way, first flexing our language skills by asking for ‘due centi grami’ of mortadella at the supermarket, then interrupting an oddly large gathering at a barbecue so we could look at the resurgence of the Su Bentu waters.
At the parking by the ‘base camp’ we were greeted by a friendly little cat, wanting to assist is changing into our wetsuits. This was to be a no-oversuit trip, to avoid complete overheating. With the bags of food and water and expensive camera equipment on our backs we walked the short path up to the cave entrance. The metal gate wasn’t very far in, just behind a short handline, and soon we were all behind it. Then came a little clink: Ben, having locked the gate behind him, proceeded to immediately drop the key, which fell on the outside. It was down to providence only that he could still reach it, sticking his arm between the metal bars. That’s the first disaster avoided, though I think given the perspective of a 24 hour wait we probably would have found the strength to break the thin chain that was holding the gate in place.
A short crawl later Leonie, with a great sense of comedic timing, asked
‘So, who has the entrance pitch rope?’
I actually felt my stomach drop: Ben had told me no rope was necessary! Leonie, who’d done the first parts of Su Bentu with a faffy group on a prior day, had simply assumed that either me or Ben had the rope in our bags. We stared down the infuriatingly short drop down into the next chamber. There was no way to climb down, we had to turn back.
We weren’t ready to give up, though. First, we considered nicking the handline, using it to descend, at replacing it on the way out. This idea quickly had to be discarded, as the handline was way too fucked to be safely used that way, even if we could untie it from its rightful place. Our last chance was to ask at the base camp. Incredibly, the guy there, after making sure that we actually had the permission to visit Su Bentu, looked in his car and produced a set of ropes that would be more than enough to let us proceed further. After thanking him profusely, and thanking him some more, we were on the right path again.
Said right path, after a chamber or two, led us to the Via Ferrata of Death (VFD). While the large passage went down and to the left, the way on was up, cowstails clipped into seemingly endless steel ropes.
click-click
was the sound of the snapgates, every 10 seconds, between different sections of the rope.
click-click
I was beginning to get drenched, sweat running down my forehead.
click-click
I had to give up on my glasses, fogging up to the point of rendering me blind. I hadn’t put on contact lenses since we’d have to swim a lot: this was what I got in return.
click-click
Leonie disappeared somewhere ahead, faster than I could ever be. Meanwhile Ben and I had to take off the top halves of our wetsuits just to have some approximation of thermal regulation.
click-click
VFD vignettes: a shoddy bit of steel, normal rope serving as backup. A pitch down, giving me false hope, as even more Ferrata followed. Ropes secured to formations. A near-sighted blurriness to all, a world reduced to a fuzzy circle illuminated by my headtorch.
click-click
And then it was done. And it was time to swim, and the water was gloriously cold.
The lakes were smaller than I expected, more like long, narrow pools, not like the huge space of Su Palu. But what they lacked in size they made up for in number, coming one after the other, separated by short rocky scrambles. No cave before had ever been as fun as this for me, and I couldn’t hold in my delight every time I felt the water engulf my legs and torso.
Several times we were grateful that Leonie had been to Su Bentu before. In keeping with the theme of the trip so far, the survey was terrible, showing water where there was none, and in no way indicating a few tricky turns we had to take to avoid wasting time down dead ends.
I couldn’t quite tell how long these sections of the cave took us. The VFD and the Lakes had seemed endless, one hellish and one heavenly stretch of caving. But now new things seemed to come after every corner. First, a tall passage, dozens of metres high but only five or so wide, jutting straight through solid rock: the Autostrada. At its end a low passage filled with water took us into a chamber where drips of water fell from some unknowable darkness above: the Grande Pioggia, the Great Rain. Then the path lead us up, on top of pristine dunes and by galleries of formations. Despite our best efforts we could not decide which of them was meant to be the ‘UFO’ we were told to expect. Confusingly, there seemed to be more rain here than at the Great Rain. Still, assuming we were reading the survey correctly, we carried on.
Down a gravelly slope and left under a low ceiling we emerged into another large space, its floor lined with dunes. This had to be the Sahara; our goal had to be just around the corner. Then a climb down, traversing to the left of some hole, and back up into yet another large chamber. With every new reveal I felt excited: was this it? Were we finally here? Arrows on the walls told us where to go, guiding us through a short crawl into a sloping chamber, filled with large boulders. Seeing a clear way on, I climbed up a slope of dirt and mud only to find myself in a dead end. Nothing on the survey seemed to correspond to this. Were we lost?
We decided to go back through the crawl and reassess. On my way, I noticed that up a flat rocky platform on the side of our chamber somebody has left a cairn. I followed that way, but it in no way corresponded to what the survey told us to expect, so, when the passage kept getting smaller, I turned around and followed Ben out.
It perhaps speaks to how tired we were at this point that we didn’t take the cairn to be the obvious mark of the correct route. In our defence, the survey really did leave much to be desired. Still, after bumbling about for half an hour or so, we decided there was no way we were anywhere else than where we were meant to be, and we went back to investigate the cairn passage.
And there it was, only a few metres beyond where I had turned back on the first attempt.
A huge chamber, its ceiling invisible, its far side somewhere behind the silky blackness. Its right wall was rough rock, its left was a straight, smooth slab of stone, like some unimaginable giant had carved a piece of marble from this spot before it was forever hidden from sunlight. Against it was piled a mountain of boulders and rubble that we hiked up, unable to comprehend the enormity of this space. There was a path, winding its way between the rocks, up to a point where we stopped to catch our breaths and eat the rest of our bread and some chocolates.
We had made it. We had done it – all that was left was to take photos and begin the long route back. Ben handed flashes to us, headed to the peak of the slope, and the ritual began anew:
“Move down a bit, Jan!”
“Leonie, can you hide the flash behind your hand?”
“One two three… flashing!”
The chamber was so big that multiple photos would have to be stitched together to convey even an approximation of its proportions. This would indeed be done, painstakingly, by Ben, who at this point is surely eyeing the status of cave sainthood.
An hour or so later, maybe less, maybe more, the flashes were back in their case, and we were looking behind us one last time, before heading into the series of crawls that so confused us on the way in.
Then it was the same once more: Grande Frana, then Sahara, then Sombrero, giving way to Grande Pioggia and the solemn and efficient Autostrada. And once more the lakes, one after the other, each one as refreshing as the last.
And finally a route up, and a steel rope, and
click-click
I was so tired
click-click
The world was so blurry, my glasses somewhere in the drum on my back
click-click
Wetsuit again undone, bare back against the rocks
click-click
Leonie gone somewhere ahead, faster than I could ever be.
And then on some sharp ledge I ripped a huge hole in my wetsuit and underwear, exposing my entire ass.
No way to sugarcoat it, and Ben had to see it, too.
At least it wasn’t too far, now.
click-click
And then we were out, underground almost exactly twelve hours, just as we had planned. I made sure to always have my front towards Ben and Leonie as I grabbed my clothes from the car, to avoid any further indecencies. The ‘shoebody bop’ on, the best caving trip of my life completed, we drove off into the night.
Jan
Saturday
Via Ferrata at Gorrupu: Everyone
Let’s be honest, after Su Bentu neither you nor I have any strength left for coherent, continuous text. So, here’s an executive summary:
- Went for a drive to find some via ferrata.
- On the way Chris went down a mystery staircase only for his head to pop out from the side of a cliff.
- We also did a race on the tiny road, both of us later claiming we would not have been this fast were it not for the other car. There was also some beeping, hand gesturing and cursing as we did our best to impersonate Italian drivers.
- Lovely hike.
- Swing from a tree.
- The ‘ferrata’ was very very short.
- Only Ben seemed to know where he was going, everyone else tried to skirt around the side of a gorgeous little lake.
- This resulted in Ellie getting soaked.
- Wojtek, Jackie and I followed Ben further down the gorge (though we did briefly lose Jackie, which wasn’t very nice of us).
- After a very twatty slope we came back down into and followed the rocky riverbed.
- I got too concerned about the coming dusk, so I turned around with Wojtek and Jackie. Only speedy Ben would see the end of the gorge, something he’d been desperate to do all week.
- Got back to the car right as the last light was disappearing.
- Back in the villa was food and Bobo.
- Bobo made fun of both me and Thurston for our enormity. I suppose that’s some form of justice.
- The C+J situation had developed positively.
And then the trip was done. Just like that.
Jan
Sunday
For a caver, there is nothing more natural, than to fly to beautiful and sunny Sardinia just to descend underground as quickly as possible, reducing your field of vision to just the small cone of your own head torch. And that is exactly what we did. During the Trip, I got up much earlier than usual and (almost) always came home late with the last team. Every day, the caves got longer and longer and the days correspondingly shorter, which is why I only know the beach and harbour of our little town Cala Gononne in the dark.
You might be thinking right now: wouldn’t it be much smarter to go caving at night and enjoy the beaches and explore the island during the day? Well… Ben, Jan and I decided to cave during the day and at night and to just postpone the callout until the next morning. I am sure Ben has already written the best report imaginable, and I am certainly not going to challenge him on that. I am very much looking forward to his amazing pictures of Grandissima Frana!
Still, I could not miss the chance to enjoy the Mediterranean sun, so I spent a day in the sunlight with Jan, Fan and Aurelia. We took the ferry from Santa Theresa across the Strait of Bonifacio towards the chalk cliffs.
I am always deeply impressed by how this beautiful town sits enthroned on the rocks, how a tiny gap opens up between the rocks through which the car ferry then squeezes and how, just around the corner, the harbour is embraced by the cliffs that provides protection from even the strongest storms. Of course, like always, the distant thunderstorms let us know all day that glorious sunshine and stormy thunderstorms are never far apart in the Mediterranean.
But even in Bonifacio we did not enjoy much of the sunny weather. As we obviously would not be the Caving Club if we hadn't immediately gone back underground into the fortress and climbed the ramparts once we arrived in Bonifacio.
Leonie
And before we knew it the wonderful trip had come to a close.
After a crazy night of chatting with Bobo and confusing vast quantities of food, the end had come and we had the morning to clear up the absolute disaster zone of the the accomodation - all three houses worth of it. Large amounts of forgotten food was hastily eaten, the Cactus was stuffed to the ceiling once more and since Magor had disappeared haldway through the tour - I think he flew home? unclear - then there was a spare space on the flight which Laura quickly nabbed. Julien was handed a bag of bread and cheese to take through airport security, and then we were soaring over the med and the alps once again, this time headed for cloudy gloomy Britain. Although actually the weather was fantastic at home as well but that makes the story less dramatic.
A couple days later the cactus arrived home after being the heroic workhorse that enabled the tour to happen at all. Another huge thank you to Remi and Thurston - the tour would not have happened had you two not put in so much effort to make the pre tour happen, as well as the long drive home again.
The newest addition to the clubs collection of signs was put up outside stores, I managed to succesfully wrangle the cash out of the car hire excess cover insurance so Laura could finally sleep again at night after being charged a grand for a very long scratch down the side of the car (which it sounds like was caused by her driving alongside some wire but who cares we got the money back now it's all good).
Farewell Sardinia, Bobo, maggot cheese, crystal blue pools, caverns measureless to man and our little house by the sea. Until next time, see you all for Easter Tour 2026!
Ben
