INSPIRATION

As I leave Portixeddu, a hamlet of Fluminimaggiore, \ I take a break to admire the sea, the view, and I play a little my ukulele in a small beach. I continue along the straight road that runs along the beach, now Comune di Buggerru, and I I have to stop to admire the San Nicolò dunes. From here on it’s all uphill. At the top, the view is incredible, up to Capo Pecora. From here you enter an area of ​​white limestones, and after a few turns opens the view of the small port of Buggerru.

I enter the village, I go down the main street and arrive straight to the port. Behind the port sits whole village, long and narrow in a natural depression. On the sides of the port there are old mining structures, the washhouse, mining waste deposits and even entrances to tunnels, now fenced and barred. Nearby there is also the Museum, closed, and a former well-renovated water storage. In a small square, lying in the grass, four stone statues, a monument to the miners who died in the disorders of 1904. Here in Buggerru in fact in that year there was one of the first strikes and one of the first labor protests in Italy in favor of treatment of the miners, which unfortunately ended up in a massacre.

Buggerru was called the ‘petite Paris’, as it was a French company that bought the mines, sending there its management, who led a decidedly Parisian life, in contrast to that of the miners. Although the houses are almost all modern today, there are some historic buildings with Art Nouveau traits.

I take a ride on the beautiful beach next to the marina, behind which there are huge deposits of mine waste deposits. Then by bike I can get to the end of the pier, from which you can enjoy a complete view of the village, enclosed between the two calcareous ridges.

Back in the center, I go back up one of the two gray limestone ridges where there are also the stops of the Via Crucis, and I arrive at the entrance to the Henry mine gallery entry, unfortunately closed. I return to town, where Fiorenzo greets me at the Hotel ‘904 (which takes its name from the unfortunate strike date). Fiorenzo also works for the tourist association Green Buggerru and gives me a lot of tips for my journey the next day.

The next morning, on the way to Iglesias, I stop shortly after the great climb at the exit of Buggerru. Thanks to the indications of Fiorenzo I can find the exit of the Henry mine tunnel, a few kilometers away from its entrance. Here I can admire the tracks of the small railway that brought the material out of the mine. It is a magical place, even for the view that can be enjoyed from the cliffs over the sea. From one of these you can admire a calcareous spike emerging from the water, called The Eagle’s Nest.

SOUND FRAGMENTS

French memories.

SHORT SARDINIAN STORIES

Fiorenzo tells me about Duna Jam. And I am pleasantly surprised. Every year for more than ten years, at the beginning of June, the Buggerru area is filled with German motorcyclists for a week. But they are not the typical tourists on holiday, but rock music lovers who meet here for a series of concerts in special places, on the beach of San Nicolò, the temple of Antas, mining sites and others. The events, exclusively organized by a group of Germans, are not advertised, take place as impromptu happenings with people camping in the locations, a sort of modern Woodstock. After watching videos on YouTube, I realize that they are not just impromptu events, but there must be a big organization behind it, in order to manage all the technical and organizational aspects of the week. Fiorenzo tells me that Duna Jam brings economy into the territory and that is why it has been going on for so long. The Germans are well received by the community, and at the end of the week, where quantities of beer are consumed that local shops cannot even satisfy, the bikers pack everything, leave the places cleaner than how they found them, and they go back to Germany. Auf Wiedersehen! Adiousu!