Zafferano

The trip which started with a tasting of saffron meatballs in Cagliari, ended with a splash in Saffron beach, Cala Zafferano in Teulada.

In between, tons of local bottarga and roasted mullet in Cabras, tuna in uncountable ways in Carloforte, fresh fish a la carte in Malfatano beach, fregola and pardule a bit everywhere and the great discovery of La Brace in Oristano.

Also, long and winding roads, windy coasts and permanently dusty windshield. Some good window-shopping too.

Special mention of roasted goat cheese for breakfast at S'Arxola and pecorino on the rocks at sunset.

On the roads of Sulcis

Further south, in Sardegna, there is a blue coast, with wild rocks, green pinewoods and Caribbean-white sand.

To reach it, you need to ignore your GPS and google maps of sort and take your car to Marceddi' to cross a bridge which does not exist, then to wade across one or two iron-red creeks, and finally to be pulled out of the sand where the car got stuck.  Best done with a convertible Fiat 500.

You may want to take a break along the way to go for a quick dive in the waters of Piscinas beach, surrounded by Sahara style golden dunes.

Or you may visit the Carthaginian-Roman temple of Antas, hidden in the middle of the mining area of Sulcis.

Whether a curious coincidence or superior design, this August has the red colour of mining history.

From Belgium and the ceremony to mark the 60th anniversary of the Marcinelle disaster, to the abandoned mines along Sardinian road SS 126, across the Sulcis region, home of the fascist and post-war exploitation of the Sardinian reserves of iron and lead.

The sign next to the Laveria Brassey-Naracauli in Ingurtosu claims Liberty style.

Mari Ermi and the others

When the sun goes down in Mari Ermi, the sky turns yellow, the crowds leave and the seagulls go hunting, that is the moment to admire its white quartz stones shining in all their beauty.

It can be a busy day in West Sardinia, whether swimming in the still, emerald waters or enjoying them turned by a hit of mistral into a kitesurfing paradise.

Even more so if you want both and head to the San Giovanni di Sinis's peninsula: east and west, mare vivo and mare morto, shallow waters and powerful waves.

Local businessman Samba, itinerant Sardinian-speaking Senegalese
specialised in beach-ware and advice, strongly recommends to not miss, while there, the elegant simplicity of the Paleochristian church.

It is not that we picked the west coast so that we could every day indulge into sunset watching in the company of an ice cold Ichnusa, but I am glad we figured this point out early enough.

Primo agosto

E cosi' il primo agosto c'era il sole a Bruxelles.

C'era persino qualcuno in giro, macchine nei tunnel, ausiliari del traffico a Flagey, cercatori di Pokemon e nonni con bimbi nei parchi. C'era la lentezza dei movimenti e delle decisioni, in risposta all'urgenza di fermare il mondo durante le vacanze. C'erano matasse da dipanare grandi quanto piramidi egizie, a settembre però.

Tu non c'eri, eri su un altro pianeta a fare lunghe camminate nei boschi o ragionevoli riflessioni in riva a un mare estraneo.

E c'ero pure io a Bruxelles. A salvare il mondo, una briciola alla volta, piano piano. Forse troppo.

Il due agosto ricominciò a piovere, il traffico tornò nel tunnel Cinquantenaire.

Io me ne andai.