My journey continues at the foot of the Goceano mountains, taking me to Bono, a real town in the area. I love this feeling, after having been in very small villages, to arrive in a place that I feel like a ‘metropolis’, due to the presence of traffic, shops, people around and activities in general.
After leaving bike and luggage at the Le Ortensie b&b where Mario hosts me, I meet Bastianina, Piera and Cristina with whom I will spend this hot August day. We go to seek refreshment in one of the most important naturalistic locations, the Sos Nibberos century-old yew forest, at over 1000 meters above sea level.
We take a wrong road by mistake and get half stuck in a very steep dirt road. We are forced to get out of the car to be able to get it back on track and finally drive back on the right road. But once this little adventure ends, we finally arrive in the middle of the woods and walk to a source of icy water surrounded by yews. Here, there is also a species of endemic bramble that grows only in this area, Rubus Arrigonii.
We enjoy the coolness of this magical place for a while and then we get back in the car. We turn on some country roads around Punta Manna, the peak of Mount Rasu over 1200 meters, where a large forest complex extends and where there is a xylotheque that contains samples of various woods from the area.
We drive back down to the town, and we head towards the countryside descending towards the Tirso valley. Here, in the midst of the vegetation now parched by the heat, we stop for lunch at the Agriturismo Perandria, where the owner Marilena delights us with a lunch based on excellent local products.
After the afternoon heat, we find ourselves in the late evening for a walk in the streets of the town. We start from the church of San Michele Arcangelo, with a beautiful facade of multicolored stones. They tell me that the church of Santa Croce was behind it, which unfortunately no longer exists today.
We pass from the house that gave birth to one of Bono’s most famous characters, Giovanni Maria Angioy and we enter the Corso which takes its name. We arrive at the beautiful Piazza Bialada, where a mural by Liliana Canu recalls the revolutionary movements and where the bust of Angioy is located. I am also struck by a beautiful modern mural depicting the town.
We continue to Piazza Trieste where the war memorial is located, and we arrive at the beautiful Town Hall building. We stop right here for an aperitif before continuing and ending the tour on the San Raimondo hill where the church of the same name is located. Here, during the celebration of the saint, a large pumpkin is prepared which is then rolled downstream, to symbolise the cannon balls used to hunt the Piedmontese who had come here to hunt Angioy.
From here the view of the village lying on the mountain side is magnificent, with the colors of the sun which has just set. And later the small town lit by street lamps makes me feel again in another Sardinian “little Paris”, perhaps thanks to the final destination of the Angioy exile.
PS Tomorrow the Time in Jazz van will pick me up to take me to Berchidda. After three months (90 days in a row!) I interrupt the trip for a few days again, to perform at the prestigious festival created by Paolo Fresu. And to tell the truth, I will rest for a few days before returning here to Bono, from where I will resume my ride to the last villages of the Goceano.
SARDINIAN SHORT STORIES
The events concerning Giovanni Maria Angioy’s life are now on all Sardinian history texts. Of course, you can breathe his aura here, as in the villages and areas that I have already passed through, scene of revolutionary movements, such as Scano di Montiferro and Santu Lussurgiu, or Semestene.
I found out later that the painter Carmelo Floris, whose house-museum I visited in Olzai almost 10 months ago, was a native of Bono, which he left at an early age when his father died. Too bad I didn’t find any trace or reference to this great artist. Among the various via Carducci, via Pacinotti, via Allegretti, I think Bono deserves to have a via Carmelo Floris, which turns out to be exist only in Sassari, perhaps in honour of his voluntary enlistment in the Sassari Brigade during the First World War.
In via Manzoni (will it perhaps be the future via C. Floris?) there is the physiotherapy studio where I went during the day in Bottidda to cure my ankle that continued to hurt. Maria gives me a light massage and then treats the area with magnetic therapy. I tell her about my trip and at the moment of paying she tells me that she doesn’t want anything. I tell her that I will come back another time and that I would like to pay. But again this afternoon Maria works for free, confirming the great sense of solidarity which my project is enjoying.