Waking Up in Sardinia - Part 2
Their ancient architecture is definitely not for the claustrophobic! - a 4 minute read
This is Part 2 of a three-part travel tale. If you missed Part 1, see it HERE
The vertiginous road through the mountains has switchbacks as sharp as the crack of a whip. My bus is winding through the rugged steep countryside of central Sardinia on the way to the south coast. I have worked for three days here with a lovely group of English teachers in Nuoro, and found them absolutely delightful — warm, friendly, and ready to learn! My next training group is in Cagliari, Sardinia’s capital city on the south coast.
Sardinia has a variety of ecosystems – mountains, woods, plains, rocky coasts, wide sandy beaches and long stretches of largely uninhabited territory. I have heard it described as a micro-continent. The high landscape I travel through today is rocky and barren, covered with scrub. The road is good, though sinuous and narrow. I count the trees: a few wind-twisted umbrella pines, scattered cedars, lonely cypresses, a handful of palms and an occasional stand of immigrant eucalyptus. It is a little bleak, frankly. The gorgeous resort areas frequented by enthralled tourists are not anywhere near here, but rather all around Sardinia’s magnificent coastlines.
In a couple of the small towns we pass through, there seems to be a lot of unfinished building projects, possibly abandoned a long while ago. I get the impression of housing projects that ran out of money and stopped midway through their construction. The buildings that are finished and occupied, are large, square, postwar-style reinforced concrete, some low, some eight stories high, all entirely unadorned, unpainted. They seem to be designed with no sense of style or aesthetic in mind – just plain gray, multi-story boxes that provide shelter.
I see no evidence of urban planning. Buildings seem scattered, set up in any free space, facing any direction, like dice rolled out of a cup. I perceive no attempt at landscaping; often the construction debris has not even been cleared away. Some of the buildings seem to be falling into decay without ever having been completed! Where there are no buildings, there are cars, both running and abandoned, unsightly ravines, jagged cliffs, refuse heaps.
Let me admit that I know absolutely nothing about Sardinian socio-economic realities, but I rarely see in my travels such degraded and uninspired townscapes. I have no idea what is behind the disorder in this high, inland part of Sardinia. Unfortunately, I don’t have the language to be able to start a conversation and improve my education. One of the most important rules of travel, I have learned is this: As a visitor, I can observe and describe what I see, but I cannot – dare not, make presumptions or judge what I do not understand. How could I?
Our bus stops for fifteen minutes for a bathroom break and food. As I wait for coffee, I hear a very drunk gray-haired man lustily and dramatically singing to four uncomfortable teen-aged boys who are sitting in a booth. I think he may be giving them his entire repertoire. They smile weakly at each other and look for a way to escape the embarrassment, but they are very polite.
The mountains of the north-west and south-central regions of this large island are dotted with Sardinia’s mysterious archeological treasures, the nuraghi. They are circular, truncated towers built of dressed stone, for which, they say, “no parallel exists anywhere else in the world.” They were built in the late Bronze Age on high ground near villages, and had various functions, serving as watch towers, residences, defensive fortresses, places of worship. Some archeologists also believe they were a kind of status symbol – a family that built a nuraghe, was obviously a family of substance.
Ruins of these conical towers, some reaching the height of 70 ft. , appear throughout the entire region. Over 7,000 of them have been found on the island, and it is believed there were once more than 10,000. Today they are the national symbol of Sardinia and its distinct Nuragic culture. However, only a few of these sites are in protective custody or guarded. Sadly, as often happens, most all of them have been greatly diminished by both treasure hunters and by families who simply availed themselves of the stones to build their own homes or walls.
Here is a six-minute tourist’s-eye view of the dark, maze-like interior of a nuraghe. My explore of these dry-stone constructions was frightening and gave me subsequent nightmares, but if you are not claustrophobic, you may like it. Not sure what the language being spoken is, but it does not matter. Click the arrow three times.
The final part of my little view of Sardinia will be posted on Wednesday, September 25 - please come back to learn about the lovely Capital port of Cagliari!
The video was fantastic. I would have never imagined those structures to be so intricate with all of those corridors and passageways. How did they mount those boulders on top of each other? Not to judge what you don't understand is a good practice in all of life. How often do we ever have a complete understanding of anything? You are making me into a seasoned traveler of Italy, one sentence at a time. Thank you!
Mysterious and intriguing. Wonderfully open and nonjudgmental. Thanks