I return to the coast from the mountains of Barbagia when the noisy crowds of tourists have given way to travelers in search of silence. After the meditative aura of Ulassai, Tortolì appears as a hyperactive centre of cars, bars, shops, even a cinema that is soon to reopen. A town that seems too busy to suggest itineraries to its visitors.
As always, I rely on instinct and set off in search of "my" beach, along a coast that is a succession of bays. The desire to see more, and even more, takes me past countless coves indicated by signs along the road that unwinds through a countryside rich in vegetation.
After a curve, suddenly in front of me, the vision of a beach immersed in the Mediterranean scrub. It is called Cea and it will become my " paradise forever ".
I find a passage and the short dirt road takes me to the north end of Cea, where stacks of red porphyry rise from the water. I walk along the beach with the happy amazement of a child in front of a gift, a joyful movement of the soul combined with a moving gratitude for so much beauty.
The water welcomes me warm and crystalline, the white sand is soft under my feet. The seabed is so shallow that I have the feeling I can walk in the water up to the solitary stack that I decided to call the Tower of the seagulls, as it is there that they take refuge.
The gentle breeze that blows from the ground has flattened the surface of the water where the light draws a thousand reflections that takes the breath away.
Amazing nature. Beauty that moves and consoles.
Here, now, everything finally has a sense.
Facing the sea, a soft profile of hills covered with vegetation.
The sky is a continuous movement of clouds, as if some supernatural artist is deciding how to paint it; even the water changes colour according to every variation of light that filters through the clouds and inflames the red of the stacks.
The sky looks so great in Cea and loaded with messages.
I walk to the end of the beach where another landscape appears: the barrier of canes that shimmers swaying in the wind, along a stream that flows into the sea.
Looking up, I can see a large rock and a small rock on the hill that seem to oversea the territory, I decide that they are the Lord of Cea and his dog. Anything can be in Cea's spell.
The stream creeps into the sand as far as the stacks and creates a small lagoon dominated by giants of stone.
A geologist I met on a train told me that the granitic porphyry of Arbatax is a magmatic stone of three hundred million years. In ancient times it was intended only for emperors who were crowned on a throne made with this stone.
I walk on my personal imperial porphyry and climb over the stacks, it is not difficult even with bare feet, the rock is quite smooth and seen up close its colour has surprising shades ranging from red to green.
Upon returning to the beach, I pass the reeds, the stream opens up and becomes a true waterway.
I ask a fisherman waiting in front of his rods what kind of fish he catches here, his answer in German remains suspended in the air. He senses that I don't understand and bursts out laughing, then turns to the water and stares at the line again.
Time flows slowly like the water of this stream.
The shadows are getting longer, it's time to leave and I need to dispose of so many emotions.
I return to the car, but someone stares at me from the windshield.
I remain motionless so as not to make him escape and be able to look at him well, he is a cricket and seems to stare back at me with the same curiosity. He remains there long enough to photograph him, he is fascinating with this golden armor. Over time I have learned that everything has a meaning, this little insect, as they say, is a sign of rebirth and luck.
Back at the top of the peak, I stop to contemplate the sunset turning pink.
Thoughts fade and I watch until it gets dark.
All Images and Original Text Copyright Solo Moles - Travel One 2020
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