Semi-sunny islands: why go to Sardinia off season


Because it’s warm. That’s why. What did you expect?

Oh and that other thing – food is amazing, sea is blue and mountains have fog caps. Sky is clear, and as we are told, all Sardinians are bastards.

We start the sunny part of this winter in a baddass villa in a rich summer resort. Because couchsurfing is the best tool to get a key of 7 bedroom house, 5 minutes from the sea, with fridge full of local specialities. Because Sardinians are welcoming and crazy, the first host leaves us his house and goes to back to Cagliari for two days. Because apparently rich Sardo <profession> like to host broke travelers slash aspiring digital nomads. What would have thought?

On some day where the sun was blinding when you looked at the sea, we went to the local ghetto, where a fake bar was guarded by rotveilers and pitbuls. Of course, there was a yellow python, too. Nice dudes with scars were sweet to our host – later he said that one of them gave him scar on the face. They are all good now, which is nice, too. We get some more specialities, this time Algerian, and kinda still wait to be kidnapped and sold into Moorish slavery.

I say that they will take Julia first because she has longer hair. She says that they will take me first because I am slimmer. We agree that they will take us both, cut Julia’s hair and make us starve, so we are both slim, with short haircuts. Of course, you don’t need to become a prostitute to live in a street where there are a bunch. Which we did, later on. (We did the living, not the job.)

Our third living place is St. Michele, a region which on the last day there was said to be one of two worst districts of Cagliari (second one is obviously, our beloved ghetto from a week before). 7 nights are spent here, and on the very last one we sit til 5am with our lady host, talking about all of it, from boys to traditions, from choices to deseases, dancing absendmindedly through the hair of two cool cats.

I'm a cool cat, too

I’m a cool cat, too

Even if St Michele is believed not to be top notch, from the very first day I’ve put on repeat “I feel super safe here”, and make sure we walk around a lot at night. Later on we are assured that we are untouchable because we do not belong to any Family, so we just cheer up and continue eating eels and fresh fish (introduced as the food of the poor) in the local tratoria.

Then our energetic guide talks about local Family business and travels, about superstition and the Doors. He was a rockstar once, too. He takes to the bar which I declare my favourite one in Cagliari – Bodieart and we have mint shots provided by bearded handsomeness.

Between villa in a seaside and the “dangerous” district (which to Lithuanians actually seems to be just quite a nice suburbs) we’ve gone to Quartucciu, where we spend a night drinking and chain smoking, watching Carpenter’s movies, movies disguised as Carpenter’s but not, and movies which are  somewhat Tarantino. Best party ever! Second nigh we go to a concert in Underground in Cagliari, because what’s the point of a pub if it is not about London.

And we were a part of adaptation of  “The Birds” couple of hours before, when we were out in Quartucciu and saw hordes and hordes of birds, dancing in the sky in a magnificient orchestrated madness.

We ask our second host, why there are 4 heads of black guys on Sardinian flag?


And now we are a bit to the south, on the exact border of Serdiana and Dolianova, in a company of two dogs which look like white wolves, with a palms out of the window and oranges from a garden on the table. There is a plan to go surfing with hobycats, because that is a phrase which apparently makes sense.

Long dinners talking, slow food and unity with nature.

As we watched in St. Michele, la dolce vita.


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