Seduced by Sardegna

From the first moment I stepped foot on Sardinian soil I was smitten; there is just something about the place that no one can quite put their finger on it.  It’s an island “lost between Europe and Africa and belonging to nowhere” to quote DH Lawrence from his 1921 book Sea and Sardinia.  The land reaches out, instantly connecting on a primeval level.  Justifiably suspicious of newcomers it seems aloof and proud at first glance and yet dig deeper and it is earnestly down-to-earth and open; complex but perceptively forthright, tantalisingly self-contained and yet impossibly friendly.  Each day as the trust builds it tentatively reveals a little more of itself, slowly peeling back the layers of haze to reveal a steady heart of solid gold.

The landscape is one of contrasts; wind warped rocks, hidden coves, jagged mountains looming large, high plateaus hidden from prying seaward eyes, plunging cliffs disappearing into mysterious ink stained water… nothing about it is comfortable and yielding.  Even the flat land seems reluctant to be tamed, straining at the bonds of cultivation, always slightly unkempt around the edges, spiny vegetation clawing over rock seeking to reclaim its own.  Indeed even though humans have eked a living here for many hundreds of thousands of years it still retains an air of untouched wildness.
 The Greeks called it “Ichnusa” for its sandal shaped coastline but this seems too trite for such a magnificent place.  The Romans, with their usual flair for the dramatic, appear to have acknowledged the true nature of the land and its people and proceeded to name it after the mythological son of Hercules’, “Sardus”.

It’s a land that provokes strong emotions and breeds passionate people.  The women are strong minded and comfortable in their skins. Capable and fun they there are counterbalanced by equally intense men, happy to proclaim their deepest emotions with all the fervour of an evangelist before launching into a bawdy joke to entertain their amassed audience.  It’s a wonder to behold, this unabashed joy of life and relaxed acceptance of all its complexities.  Certainly it is hard not to be moved by such wanton displays of raw emotion and little by little you find yourself evolving, being assimilated and ultimately revelling in the extrovert cultural nuances.

 

Geographically speaking Sardinia is an ancient place.  Older than mainland Italy, it used to be part of a much larger landmass that slowly sank away leaving an archipelago of islands, a hotchpotch of rock types, later in-filled with sediment and volcanic ejector.  As a result it has a breath-taking array of textures and forms and for such a small island (just over 24000sqkm) the wealth of minerals.  It’s fantastic to move along the coast and be greeted each day by a new vista, each more complex than the last.  As a sailing destination we find it a welcoming one, with its spacious bays, hideaway coves and offlying islets offering a refuge from all points of the compass.  We spend many happy hours pottering between destinations, trying new anchorages and creating our own.

Historically Sardegna has a convoluted and, at times mysterious, past.  The tread of man’s feet can

be traced to at least 450000BCE, the Palaeolithic, then on through the Neolithic and the rise of agriculture, communal living and trade.  Not for these early Sardi, a life of isolation.  The land gave up its wealth and obsidian was traded as far as Tuscany and France.  Their life, these industrious Bonu Ighinu, was dominated by the enigmatic Mother Goddess and there was a period of matriarchal peace.  Following them came the Ozieri; a maelstrom of otherworldliness.  A time of “domus de janas” (fairy houses), astrological anomalies, menhirs and spiralling rock art.  This “cult” spawned Monte d’Accodi, a raised ziggurat temple of Mesopotamian proportions.  Now dawns the age of copper and Sardegna is once again poised perfectly to rise into this harsh new world of metal.  Some of the earliest people in the   Copper turns to bronze and minds turn to mythical beasts, water deities, hunters, heroes and elaborate votive offerings.  Today, here and there, the crumbling remains of some 7000 maze-like nuraghi punctuate the landscape, a tantalising reminder of these Bronze Age Nuraghic warriors.  However, distance from trading partners was always going to have a role to play and the Iron Age ushers in a time of settlement by outsiders; initial peaceful co-existence is followed by the ultimate downfall of the dominance by the local populace and Sardegna’s mineral rich underbelly is left exposed to all-comers.

Mediterranean to develop metal working techniques an arms race ensued and the old order of peace is swept away under a tide of testosterone.

Around the coastal fringe the successive waves of would be invaders are obvious in the faces of its people and town facades.  The Phoenicians, Greeks, Etruscans, Romans, Vandals, Byzantines, just to name a few have all tried in vain to conquer the heart of this place.  Each time they were driven back by the savage “barbarian” Sardi of the mountains, the unforgiving contour of the interior and, later, malarial pestilence.  The mountain people seem justifiable proud of their achievements and are the keepers of an ancient cultural identity that would otherwise have been swept away under a deluge of reform.  Here in the craggy hinterland the people stand taller, arresting eyes watch from chiselled features as angular as their surroundings and the villages still echo to the sound of primordial bells and the guttural eeriness of throat song.

 

 

 

It is at this time that the island reformed itself into four “giudicati” or kingdom states, still represented in the present day flag.  Unfortunately there was to prove not enough cohesion to fight off the next onslaught from the Arabs and in 1015 Mujahid launches his attack and the giudicati are forced to appeal to Pope for support.  Unfortunately as the saying goes, freedom comes at a price, in this case four severed Moor heads (also on the island’s flag) and a succession of Italian and Spanish “allies” that proceeded to divvy up the Sardinian spoils and so began Sardegna’s fight for independence. 

Now one of my favourite people comes to the fore; Eleonora d’Arborea.  Of “Eleonora’s Falcon” fame and Giudicessa of Arborea in 1383, Eleonora proceeded to write the “Carta de Logu”; a weighty tome of laws including revolutionary acts to protect women’s rights and liberties and recognition of servants as citizens.  So forward thinking was this amazing woman that little was changed about this underlying structure of common sense for nearly 500 years.  Sadly after her death the island’s independence movement was crushed and Sardinia was slowly bled dry by its Spanish rulers. 
By the 1700’s Sardegna was an economic backwater and when the Spanish finally called it quits there was little left, but unfortunately still enough, to interest the French, Austrians , Savoyard and then the French again.  Time and again the Sardi were subject to heavy handed reforms and heavy taxation, breeding an air of discontent and banditry. 

Even after all these setbacks Sardegna maintained its dignity and during the unification of Italy was home to the famous Risorgimento, Giuseppe Garibaldi and Italy’s first King Carlo Emanuele.  It was to herald a time of relative wealth for the island and through the first and second world wars Sardinia was to benefit greatly from much awaited funding and improved infrastructure.  75% of the Italian armed forces are still based here and a third of the island is devoted to the military. 
Again in the 1950’s Sardinia saw an improvement with US funding finally putting pay to rampant malaria.  Those with pesticide phobias best look away now, as DDT was used extensively and effectively to hand back land to the locals that had been unfarmable for centuries.
The 1950’s also saw Italian tourists began to flock to Sardinia’s magnificent beaches and in the 1960’s the Aga Khan began to put the Costa Esmeralda on the map. 
Despite these improvements Sardinia has continued to be the poor relative and now after the “financial crisis” the evidence is even more pronounced that this is an island under pressure.  Abandoned resorts and projects, increased ferry prices, surprisingly high tourist prices, fewer jobs, and a ridiculously short summer season (not natures making but entirely man perceived!) are all contributing to a backward slide.  One can only hope that this is a temporary lull for this amazing island nation as it deserves a lot more.