19 Luglio

We have just returned from a weekend in Oristano, the province a couple of hours south of here on the west coast of Sardegna. We arrived Friday evening and, after a bit of hunting around, found the B&B La Mariposa in the tiny town of Sedilo. As we drove into town, we saw throngs of people headed to the stadium for L’Ardia, the annual horserace at the Santuario di Costantino and the reason for our journey. Upon our arrival, Santina, the proprietress of the B&B, quickly ushered us inside, introduced us to all manner of aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews gathered in their living room, and invited us to sit with them to watch the race on TV. The race was held two times each year and was scheduled to be repeated in the morning, so we were content to see the end of tonight’s race on TV, complete with a bit of local commentary. Soon, we were enjoying cold beers and eating delicious almond cookies, both of which were most refreshing after a long drive, and were conversing in broken Italian with our new-found family. By some crazy stroke of luck, we soon found out, we just happened to be staying at the B&B owned by the parents of the President of this year’s events. Santina proudly told us about all the hard work their son had been doing to prepare for the race.

A bit later, Santina’s husband Mario returned and recommended a restaurant on the edge of town where we could get some dinner, advising us to get to bed early tonight as the race started first thing in the morning. Before we knew it, we were packed into his little green Fiat zipping down the narrow streets of Sedilo to the Bar Alcatraz. Mario left us to have a tasty dinner of pizza with casizzolu cheese (made from milk from a special breed of Sardinian cow only found in this area), and, of course, some wine to help us along towards a good night’s sleep, but not before making absolutely sure we knew our way back. We were most grateful.

While we had been warned that the band would arrive at 7am just outside our door to start the procession, we didn’t know there would be shotgun blasts for accompaniment. This got us up and out of bed quite quickly, at which time I opened our front door and almost knocked over a trumpet player. Santina and Mario, seeing us sleepily peeking out of the door, motioned us over, saying, “Venite con noi,” or “Come with us.” We hurriedly grabbed a backpack with a few supplies for the day and blindly followed the parade, not really knowing where we were going or when we’d be back, but happy to have guides.

The day’s event began with a blessing of the riders at the local church. As L’Ardia is a festival meant to celebrate Santo Costantino, there is great religious significance. Apparently, the race celebrates Emperor Constantine’s battle with Maxenzio in 312 AD in Rome, after which he saw a vision that told him to spread Christianity. Legend has it that he was promoted to St. Constantine in or near the town of Sedilo, hence the Sactuario and the L’Ardia celebration here. At the church, the priest blessed the lead rider, known as the Pandela, and his two accompanying riders, the Pandeleddas, and presented them with bandieras, or flags. Meanwhile, the older men of the tows, dressed in black with the traditional squat hat which we have come to call the “Italian old man’s hat,” continued to frequently fire their shotguns, raining pieces of the empty casings and leaves from the overarching trees down onto the crowds below. Amidst all of this, the horses were amazingly calm. There were over 100 cavallieri, mostly teenage boys from the town, astride beautiful horses of all colors and patterns. They all stood behind the elegantly dressed and well-poised Pandela and his Pandeleddas during the ceremony. It is a position of great honor to be chosen as the year’s Pandela and it showed.

From the church, the horses and crowd proceeded to the Santuario, a walled sanctuary around the church of St. Constantine. The crowd arrived first and lined the course, waiting in anticipation. We climbed high up on the hill with Santina and Mario leading us and introducing us to nearly everyone we saw along the way. A few moments, later, the race began with the lead three riders tearing down the hill through the arched gate leading into the Santuario and then running up to the church with all the other riders following. Just four years ago, a rider was killed as his horse ran into the side of the stone arch during the race, as the goal of the race is for the following riders to try to overtake the Pandela before entering the sanctuary’s walls. Now, the arch has large Styrofoam panels on either side as protection and the riders are much less aggressive. No incidents this year to report. Once at the church, the riders circled around several times, paused a moment, and then raced back down the hill. This was repeated three or four times, all to great applause from the audience. When the races were over, the local priest held a mass for all the riders in the tiny church atop the hill and the crowds perused the stands selling local baskets, woodwork and candies. Santina took me by the hand and guided me through the crowds to see the wares. I felt as though I suddenly had a grandmother I’d never known. After several hours of festivities and celebration, a long-needed café, and many more amaretti (almond cookies), we managed to make our way out of Sedilo, despite the repeated invitation by Santina and Mario to stay and be their guests for the day. We were afraid if we didn’t leave then, we might not ever leave!

From Sedilo, we drove into the Monti Ferru region through beautiful stands of cork and olive trees. We passed Santu Lussurgiu, a town nestled in a dramatic volcanic crater, and Abbasanta, home to many strange nuraghic towers quietly existing out in the fields along the side of the road – only 4,000 years old or so. For lunch, we stopped at a dairy farm turned restaurant in the town of Seneghe, famous for its olive oil and its Bue Rosso organic beef, and sampled both, much to our great delight. The savory offerings of lunch were most welcome after all the sweets of the morning. From there, we continued our drive down to Siamaggiore, where we were staying at an agriturismo, or farmhouse B&B, for the night. We arrived in perfect time for an afternoon riposo, much enhanced by full bellies, unusually warm temperatures, and little sleep the night before. Later, after a long walk through town to work up a bit of an appetite, we enjoyed another wonderful meal with all of the products from the agriturismo’s farm. Teresa, our hostess at Agriturismo Su Livariu, Sardo for “olive trees,” brought out homemade pasta with fresh tomato and mozzarella sauce followed by slices of pork in a delicious vegetable and wine sauce. This was accompanied by an assortment of vegetables from their garden including winter artichokes, sautéed zucchini and bell peppers and a fresh green salad. Just as we were finishing dinner, Teresa’s husband, Franco, returned from the fields where he and a colleague had been cutting hay all day. He was quite a character and we listened as he talked to his friend in Sardo, the local dialect, and quickly realized that we had absolutely no idea what he was saying. It sounded a bit like, “xuxuxu. . . lulululzu.” Our meal finished off with fresh watermelon, also from the garden and gelato frutti di bosco, and of course, a selction of digestivos – limoncello, delicious grapey-tasting mirto, and mandarino. Just as we thought we were done, Franco asked if we wanted to try a special local kind of cheese – it was a little strong, he warned us. Always up for something new, we agreed and he rushed off to the kitchen and returned with a large wheel of soft-looking cheese and some pane carasau, the cracker-like Sardegnan bread. “Don’t look, just eat,” he advised, passing a sample over to Chad, who quickly passed it right back. I had assumed he meant the cheese was moldy, but I soon noticed that it was not moldy, it was MOVING! The cheese was called “salta salta,” which means “jump, jump” because of the vermi crawling around inside. Franco scooped up a large amount and popped it right in his mouth, much to our disbelief. That was certainly a first and we made sure to document it for your viewing pleasure.

Having survived our culinary adventure the night before, though neither of us was brave enough to partake, we awoke to a lovely breakfast laid out by Teresa of homemade bread and jams (pumpkin, lemon, mulberry, and orange), and then headed off to the coast for a hike in the still-cool morning air. Tharros, an ancient Phoenician settlement built on top of an even more ancient nuraghic settlement, sits right on the sea on a peninsula outside the town of Oristano and there is a beautiful path that goes from there out to the lighthouse at the tip. The panoramic views along the path were amazing and unobstructed, mostly because there were no trees, hence the necessary early-morning start and the direct procession to the beach and into the water upon our return. After our hike and a few hours of recovery at the beach, we started our trip back north, taking a previously untraveled inland route for some new scenery. This took us through more cork forests and loads of nuraghe (hence the name the Valle di Nuraghe), including huts and watchtowers. The neatest find of the day, however, were the Domus de Janus, or fairy house nuraghe built right into the side of a cliff on the side of the road that looked like it was formed by an old river bed. They reminded us of Mesa Verde.

Finally, we arrived back home to a lovely calm evening in Palau to watch the sun set over Punta Sardegna and to wonder yet again at how lucky we are to live here for a stretch.

6 Luglio 2007

Once again, I have waited far too long to catch up on the latest adventures. But, for the first time in awhile, we have actually stayed put for about a month now. Unfortunately, this means we haven’t been taking as many pictures, so this blog will be a bit more word-heavy. Summer has definitely arrived here, complete with hot sun, many tourists, and boats zigzagging through the water in front of our house. We now have to jockey for a spot on our previously private beach and when lounging on the sand, we are likely to hear a bit of French, German, Italian or English (Brits only), depending on the day and the combination of visitors at our condos that week.

The mornings, however, are still quiet and I can let Manny romp down the beach before the sunbathers arrive. One morning recently, I raced down to the rocks by the campground to watch three dolphins swim by. I had spotted them out our window and threw on shoes, grabbed Manny and arrived just in time to see them surface only a few feet away in perfectly glassy seas. It was a truly magical moment that I unfortunately did not capture on film! I have had a few other recent very close encounters with nature here amidst all the hustle and bustle. While working on the computer one afternoon, I heard a thump and went out into the living room to find a small black and yellow sparrow lying on the floor which had flown right into our front window. I grabbed a towel and tossed it over him in order to pick him up and take him outside, but he flew into the window again. This time, no towel was needed and I picked him up with my bare hands and carried him out into a shady spot in the yard, worried that I had scared him to death. I waited and watched, keeping an expectant Manny inside so that he would have a bit of peace to recover. And, sure enough, moments later, he flew off and hasn’t been seen since. Later the same week, I was down at the beach and saw a young crow with wet feathers standing on a rock and heard his mother squawking above. Thinking I would try the same technique, though concerned about his large size, I covered him with my beach towel and waded with him back to shore. Though not injured, he was absolutely calm and let me touch his black shiny feathers during my inspection. As I had to return to our house, another woman on the beach promised to watch him. I later found out he had flown off safely. Similarly, we have enjoyed listening to our resident blackbird sing his heart out on the peak of the house in front of ours while watching from our porch as the sun slowly sets (at nearly 9:30 now) over the fort on Punta Sardegna. He often out-sings the pop music which is broadcast on the radio of the campground bar next door and he seems to have an endless repertoire.

There is a wonderful festive atmosphere to summer here, as the people who have come are all on vacation and a bit of their gleeful freedom is bound to rub off on us year-rounders who supposedly have jobs to attend to during the day. In talking with a few of them, we have produced much consternation over the fact that Chad goes to work for the whole day five days a week and doesn’t come home for lunch! “Peccato,” they say, meaning "too bad". Recently, we have had neighbors from Parma who, each evening, meet Manny at our gate with a fresh crosta di formaggio leftover from the cheese they’ve eaten with lunch, and another neighbor from Naples who invited us over to try his freshly-baked Torta Coprese, a chocolate and almond cake. He then offered to teach us how to make it. “Free cooking lessons, it only costs a smile,” he told us. We have become the collective grandchildren of our complex and have been treated with amazing warmth and hospitality.

In fact, several weeks ago, we tried to include our neighbors in a party we had for some friends leaving here, but they laughed and said they were too old, “Come i nonni,” they said, meaning they were like our grandparents. In preparation for the grande festa, we embarked on an expedition to collect cozze (mussels) off the barrier around the ship at Santo Stefano. They grow in massive clumps there and someone must periodically “clean” them (and then eat them). So, with snorkels and a floating cooler, we collected nearly 10 kg of mussels, ripping them off in clumps with our hands and paint scrapers. Nearly three weeks later, my hands are still healing from the many wounds incurred (and we are still eating leftover frozen cozze!). The other main dish for the evening was Jamaican Jerk Chicken, grilled by Chad. Our landlord and his wife, who joined us for a bit of the party, bearing homemade wine and a delicious pear torte, raved over the unusual flavors and begged us for the recipe. So, this week, armed with a show and tell of all of the particular spices and ingredients, we joined him for a cookout at his house where we had Sardegnan grilled pancetta and salsiccia and a small demonstration of how to prepare Jerk Chicken. It is sometimes easier to communicate via food than through language.

In addition to cozze collecting, I recently went on a clam hunt at some nearby mudflats with my friend, Naomi, in an attempt to provide dinner for that evening. We found many more crabs scuttling over the seemingly empty clam holes and children chasing them than we found actual clams. But, with about 30 of the tiny arselle (of which I collected a grand total of 8), we returned home and supplemented them with store-bought clams for a delicious pasta on the terrazza. Naomi and her husband had invited me to dinner the week before when Chad was in London. On another night while he was away, I decided to have a few Italian friends over for an impromptu dinner of Thai curry (take a look at one of the previous blog entries to read about buying the ingredients). I invited Paola, a marine biologist, and Massimo, a guide for the Parco National de la Maddalena, to try curry, which is not to be found in Sardegna. As they took their first bite, I saw the color rise in their cheeks and watched them down their glasses of water. I had forgotten that the Sardegnan palate does not include particularly spicy food. Nonetheless, they politely cleaned their plates and claimed to have enjoyed it, though it was “un po piccante.”

One expedition we took this month was to the Golfo Orosei, on the east coast of the island. We had friends visiting from San Diego, so we decided to go exploring with them. Arriving at the agriturismo where we were staying, we saw the proprietor butchering a freshly-slaughtered lamb, which we quickly realized would be our supper. The owners were wonderful people who ran a neat inn with only four rooms and made a superb dinner with the lamb, homemade ravioli with fresh ricotta, and house wine from the fall harvest. We enjoyed this immensely, as we had undertaken quite a long hike in the afternoon from one beach to the next. The path ran along the cliff tops above dramatic limestone caves at the water level, which we explored upon our arrival at the second beach. After contemplating hitch-hiking on the tourist boat heading back, we instead bucked up after a refreshing swim and repeated the hour-long hike back to the car. Needless to say, we slept very well after our adventures and a big meal! In the morning, much refreshed, we had a breakfast of fresh yogurt and bread with homemade butter and honey from the farm's bees and departed with a promise to return soon to see more of the area.

Another interesting cultural event we attended recently was a polo match in nearby Baia Sardinia. Somehow acquiring VIP passes by simply showing up and acting as if we were supposed to get them, we were able to rub elbows with the elegantly dressed spectators in the stands and enjoy a nice view of the games. It was an excellent people-watching opportunity, though we didn’t manage to befriend any of them well enough to be invited into their luxury boxes, all of which were stocked with champagne and lovely looking antipasti. Unfortunately, the tournament was cut a bit short by a torrential downpour, so we fled into the nearby restaurant for several cafés until we got the courage up to dash out to the car and head home.

Closer to home, we have finally gotten back under the water and have started diving here. After a quick refresher, Chad was diving again for the first time in 15 years. It’s not a bad place to start again where the water is so clear that you can’t tell how deep it is and there is bright light down to nearly 100 feet below the surface. Half the fun of diving has been exploring the islands in a gommone (the small motorboats used around here). Underwater, we have seen wonderful sea life including the famous red corals of the area, eels, lobsters, octopus, and an amazing number and variety of fish. It is a whole new dimension to the environment here and we are looking forward to seeing much more of it over the summer and into the fall.

In indoor life, Chad has been keeping busy at work, but not too busy to return for an evening swim before dinner and for weekend expeditions. And, I am teaching a biology course online for students from places as far away as Turkey, Germany, and even a few stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan. It has been very interesting to read about their experiences and teaching online has allowed me plenty of time to play outside here and to get to know our new summer neighbors. We are very much looking forward to another month here and also to our upcoming August return to the States, which will be our first trip back since our arrival here.