Sardegna - Ogliastra

During the summers of 2008 and 2009 me and Ale went to Ogliastra,
on the Sardinian East Coast.
Hosted by my sister in the Barisardo house, we used the town
full of perfumes and flavours as a base camp to explore the region around.
The sea was the fulcrum of our daily pilgrimages.
Inlets rich of earth's full colours, deep green and blue water,
shelter from the relentless sun always burning on the skin.
Every beach reserves surprises, every rock recall the sea harshness
forging the strenght and soul of those proud and brave people
that welcomed us since the first day, around a laid table
of regional dishes that we still relish.

I would bring home a sonic souvenir of the local beach but I've been too lazy,
leaving the look-out tower observing a rigorous silence.



A bit more south, further away from the mass tourism, we reach
isolated beaches and inlets where the sea noise is king
and the nature receive us in a deep contemplation.

Along the Marina di Gairo littoral we flank escarpments
in which we go down facing the waves.

More south, at the end of the road facing a cliff,
the Coccorocci beach, remote, made of rounded black stones.

The real adventure starts dealing with streets towards the inland,
in which the no signs and informations lack
leave us facing the bleakness and the stubborn will
of being and watch that beautiful geography.

Nuraghe land: we can find them everywhere, and most of them
are unaccessible, either because laying in private properties
either because there are no proper roads or paths leading to them
without an expert guide.
We reached the Nuraghe Scerì following the directions sprayed
on walls and on tarmac.
Deep silence broken up by few insects.
I called Ale at some point, but my voice came back dry without an echo.
Not a leaf answering the call, not a bell either, nor a cow or a sheep.
swallowed by the time's hole.

Looking for more inhospitable beaches, this time towards north,
we entered the low Ginnirico Mount forest quite sure to find a descend to the sea.
We drove for chilometers in dirty roads and blind junctions; the heat
and the coast sinking in the blue got far
leaving us facing stones, dust and folds hidden in the low wood.

Carrying the roaming on with the little japanese car,
in the inland Gairo area, we get through valleys
and abandoned places with fascination of old western movies
filmed there decades ago.
The rock heel standing out a deep valley, ripped by a little unused railroad;
the old tumbilng down ghost Gairo town. Few tourists and a fountain
of spring water coming out of a wall.
The surrounding area, is pasture for good milk and stunning cheeses.

The Ulassai area has dried wind, sun and silence.
It looks like a bit less abandoned but isolated anyway
and not quite reachable of deserted streets and few indications.
We reached, maybe the only ones, the S.Barbara church beaten by the wind
and few other things, overlooking a deep valley, like the road to get there.
Before we left we had time to stop, not too far from there,
a gelid abrupt and dried waterfall, due by the season.

In the stunning valley around Perdasdefogu, town renowned
for its military base, we can find a range of heolic turbines
with an air and light beauty.
Trying to have a better view on the valley,
we entered a dirt patch along a rock heel
and there, between a coniferous forest and a steep rock
out of the blue a rainstorm got us.

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