The Spanish in Sardinia

Genoan tower, Santa Teresa

The proud era of the four autonomous Judicat of Sardinia (see "The Romanesque in Sardinia") came to an end when they requested help from the Pope, to protect against the incessant incursions of Barbary pirates. The Pope sent Genoans and Pisans, who built fortifications and churches and then availed themselves of the land itself, except for the Judicat of Arborea which would remain a defiant force to be reckoned with.

Capo di Testa

But it was to Spain, in her ascent as a world power and stronghold of papal politics, that Pope Boniface gave Sardinia in 1297. The Pisans and Genoese fortified their holdings, but Aragon began to take Sardinia by conquest in the 14th c. The darkest years would come in 1479 when Ferdinand and Isabelle fully dominated the island. The Sards were gradually reduced to penury and marginalization in their own land during the 500-year occupation. Only the Judicat of Arborea held on, until 1478. (Arborea's most famous ruler was a woman, Eleanora, whose code of laws is still recognized as an important innovation in legal theory, including the inheritance of property by women and civil rights.) The Spanish protected Sardinia's coasts and left monumental gothico-catalan architecture (and then the fussy, often weird Baroque), but in doing so they crushed Sardinia's own culture.

Nuraghe Tuttoni

The cities that today retain strong Spanish touches are Castelsardo in the north, dominated by its dark stronghold of a castle, and Alghero, now a breezy sweet city of the northwest coast. (Cagliari is a third, but the largest city of Sardinia deserves its own chapter).

First, Castelsardo, our destination after visiting the ravishing northern coast. There we visited Santa Tersea di Gallura with her staunch Genoan tower confronting Corsica, where brilliant wildflowers crawled over rock and emerald grasses. We climbed to the tower and then down to the white beach where a few local sunbathers gazed at the gradients of turquoise waters. Then we walked under the fierce sun back uphill among the pastel houses, empty for the season, and had lunch on the church piazza of Santa Teresa. From there we followed signs to a Nuraghe and climbing among thistles and wildflowers, but our search was fruitless.

Nuraghe outside Castelsardo

From Santa Teresa we drove west to Capo Testa, a natural preserve with white beads of paths winding up and down among boulder forests bejewelled with abandoned stone walls.

We drove on to Nuraghe Tuttoni at the end of a long, dirt road, which was piled high in several levels with rocks tumbled inside, a strong outer wall smoke-blackened, all wound round with fragrant and thistly growth so that it was impossible to find the entrance. The day was spent climbing like kids, balancing on rocks and pushing through brambles.

Castelsardo

Finally we drove to the point of land where Castelsardo presides, passing a staunch unnamed Nuraghe, solid as a Genoan tower in a field of clanking sheep. Lambs gambolled together at the far edge in a glade.

in Castelsardo

Castelsardo is a medieval city perched above an ugly modern development. Half in ruins, it presides with great dignity over the sea. In the medieval Byzantine church Santa Maria a group of local men rehearsed the famous local polyphonic singing. Its closely spaced, dissonant notes move stepwise, apart and together, almost resolving in major chords then moving again into dissonance. A haunting tenor sang an aria like a Gregorian chant, moving around each note, never resting on firm ground. The other men stood in a close circle, sounding harmonies. Other men sat and listened, in the church with its intriguing beauty of Spanish altars and moving crucifixes and saints, and a pulpit of painted wood in Spanish Baroque that seemed as unsettling as the singing. Outside terraces of the medieval walls looked down on picnickers in the winding pathways among tender grasses at the edge of the sea. A sea gull nested patiently in the wall near us.

rehearsing harmonies, Castelsardo

Though there is a museum in the medieval castle, the hour was late and it was time for the stomach-turning ride back among the high winding roads in the black night.

Alghero was a separate trip that we took via the Romanesque churches of the Loguduoro (see the posting, Romanesque in Sardinia). It is a breezy medieval town with Aragonese towers, but with the warmth of Italy, informal and filled with chatting, wandering people. It is like the coastal Moroccan port of Essaouira, with its light touch and easy comforts. Young people scampered down to lichen-covered rocks outside the sea wall, cats fished, people lingered over gelato and drinks on terraces at the cool, misty edge of the sea. The sunset was swathed in beige bands of mist, the obscure sky a relief after such fierce sun.

San Francesco, Alghero

We had pizza and salad where many others had gathered in a plain pizzeria, served by yet another incredibly handsome Italian. The men here are strikingly beautiful, either dark-lashed or more ruddy with the etched features of Roman gods. All the pizzas were being turned out, every few minutes, by one man at an oven, and to perfection. People wandered in the evening intent in their lively conversation.

We woke the next morning in lovely Alghero, breezy and sea freshened, sunny medieval streets that chase away forgotten gloom. We sat up in fine cotton sheets covering fine Italian wool and after morning exercises we took off to see three beautiful churches, originally gothico-catalan, now overlaid more or less completely with Baroque. Throughout Sardinia, amidst the subtle, exquisite architecture of the gothic usually stands a plump writhing Baroque altar, as if a statue of the Queen mother were plunked everywhere amid the austere churches.

St. Michele, Alghero

The gothico-catalan San Francesco retains most of its original form, with its spare monastic cloister. The Cathedral Santa Maria and the church St. Michele have high vaulted domes, a la Rome, with older Catalan altars remaining. Most of the Jesuit church of St. Michele was Jesuit, had been stripped down to raise funds for an academy.

Nuraghe Palmavera today

Nuraghe Palmavera ~1300BC

We strolled by the old military towers, outfitted with replicas of medieval weapons, but Algherans weren't interested in tourists yet. So we drove out, hugging the brilliant coast, on our way to the Nuraghe Palmavera. Long before Sardinia was a pawn of the power struggles of medieval Europe, there was the Nuraghe civilization (1500-800BC). Nuraghe Palmavera is presented with elaborate drawings and explanations, so we could envision the lives of these Bronze age people. We climbed round and round the complex settlement, feeling the stillness of the age-old stones.