Alghero – Something Fishy in the Air! (Hooray!!)

Alghero! Seat of Catalonian culture in Sardinia, ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ themed lolly shops and an old town for pedestrians only. It’s also home to a massive marina loaded with millionaires’ toys, and features old men gathered in huddles on the broad boardwalks under palm trees doing absolutely nothing but talking.

The Costa Smerelda (Emerald Coast) on the north east coast is the place for the rich and famous (obviously we didn’t go there since we weren’t qualified), whereas Alghero is more the main port historically you needed to invade to take over the entire island.

Located in the north west corner of Sardinia, Alghero is the gateway port to fabulous islands and beaches, and is famed for the seafood which feeds off the constant ring of seaweed that grows outside the town (P-ew!) and may be the basis of the town’s name (Alghero, “the place of algae or seaweed”, don’t ask me what languages, like everywhere in Sardinia, everyone’s been here…).

Shall we take a dip?

I went for a swim on the local city beach a fifteen minute stroll down the road, nice but a bit too sea weedy and loaded with people with dark, tanned skins that looked a bit like handbags. Further up the coast beckon crystal clear waters, while tour boats offer day-long adventures to isolated beaches where you can escape the volleyball and on beach cafes with hire recliners.

The further you go from the old town, the more you run into our old friends “the abandoned properties of Sardinia” – this is a place looking for canny and far sighted investors.

Alghero was also where we found Jane’s much looked for iconic Sardinian chicken crockery and where I bought one of their famous handmade knives which is an absolute demon at slicing salami. Ask me for a demonstration!

The Old Town
A word of warning to those driving to Alghero: if you stay in the old town (recommended), you can’t drive your car in. We got as close to the walking district as we could, and found ourselves driving around in circles down little lanes through wandering herds of tourists with cameras, and driving multiple times past the same old man standing on a corner. With no map of the town, or an address of where we were staying, we parked near the sea and did a wiggly walk into the old town, where I heard the magic words:

“I know this square, I’ve seen it on Google Maps!”

God bless the internet (I never thought I’d write those words)! Then we found the building, and rang the bell!

Our Hotel
No answer. That was a low point. You know when you’re really tired? Like getting off an international plane when you expect there to be a driver to pick you up and they’re not there? It was one of those moments. We had about ten Euros between us, the car was miles away, no phone card, no phone, and no pen to write down the number to have someone come and let us in to our room. If I’d been twenty years younger, I would have collapsed, drunk heavily and then found the nearest backpackers and booked in there.

However, with some basic compass orientation we worked out where the car was, got a parking spot outside the battlement walls (about twenty metres) from where we were staying (despite there being double parked cars everywhere), bought a ticket from a ticket officer to leave the car there all night, got a pen, got the number, found a phone booth, and called “the guy” Giovanni. Giovanni was very slick, with white teeth and brilliantined doormat hair which made me immediately suspicious of Don-Lane-like extra-curricular activities. Ten minutes later we were in, showered and enjoying a glass of wine in what I’d have to say was one of the most excellent B&B’s I’ve ever been to. You can visit it at:

http://www.bblaterrazzasulportoalghero.it/home-en.html

Note: The next morning moving the car I was approached by a suit wearing Italian-speaking Jehovah’s Witness, so it was nice to know we’d finally arrived at an international locale: even the JW’s have got it on the map.


Alghero Cuisine – Seafood Specialities Ahoy!
As a Catalan influenced fishing port - distinct from wider Sardinia with its goats, cheeses, and kidnapping midgets - there are a number of fish dishes specialised to the town. These include:

• Allada de peix: a red sauce made from tomatoes, garlic, and chilies, cooled and poured over small fried fish.
• Capunada: a fisherman’s lunch featuring a potato and cucumber salad with softened salted fish and fresh tuna.
• Cassola de Peix: a local fish soup with fried octopus, dried tomatoes, ground garlic and parsley base to which fish, crabs and whatever else they’ve caught is added. Served with toasted or day old bread soaked in the sauce.
• Bogamari: local sea urchins, raw with bread and wine or served with pasta.
• General grilled fish: whole or in steaks.

A Quick Word on Bread at Table with Olive Oil
I like bread. I like Italian and French breads. I like bread on the table while I’m waiting for the waiter (how aptly named) to bring me my food. And I love it with olive oil and some fancy salt on the side to wiggle it in. May I make a note here, if you are similarly inclined, that nowhere in France or Italy, at the high or low-end restaurants we visited, did I have one place serve olive oil with the bread. How disappointing, and a big tick to Melbourne!


Dining
We were in town for only a couple of days, but visited the restaurants recommended to us by Giovanni (always get a local’s advice then follow your nose), who recommended we avoid the port and stick to the old town for food.

Osteria Machiavello
Our first stop was to plunder (“Arrrrrr”) a seafood dinner at ‘Osteria Machiavello’. It was one of the first places I spotted on our walks along the battlement walls next to the sea and I was delighted to hear it recommended to us.

The staff were old school pros, but not chatty and bright – we had a grumpy old guy and a girl who wouldn’t know a joke if it bit her on the bum – but the seafood was excellent with an antipasto misto di mare, featuring most of the dishes listed above, followed by a whole grilled catch of the day which I cleaned myself having watched one of the waiters do it for some Germans at the next table. This was all washed down with a bottle of Sardinian white and coffee and liqueurs – I think Jane had a mirto.

Top marks for food and views, a deduction for stuffy waiters, I give it six and a half tentacles out of eight. There was even a wandering accordionist!

http://www.osteriamacchiavello.it/


Martini con olive?
The next night before dinner we tried to hold off going to a restaurant until a normal time (locals tend not to eat until after nine), so had an aperitif at a small café and read the Italian newspapers: Italy qualified for the European Cup by beating Northern Ireland 3-0 (who said “mi non parla Italiano, e tempo de vai, e questo con trove?”).

I ordered a vodka martini, reminiscing about the excellent one I had in Cagliari. When I asked the man at the bar if he made them, he smiled and said “si, una vodkatini!’ I asked for it “con olive” and it promptly arrived with a peel of lemon in it, with a side order of olives (!), but was excellent in every way.

Posada del Mar
In spite of the time wasting, we were still too early for tea (the worms were biting), so went to eat shortly after eight regardless, ahead of even the German tourists. The shame!

On the Via Roma, the Posada del Mar is, compared to Machiavello, a simple restaurant that still covers the local specialities (e.g. octopus in ink, squid in tomato sauce, etc.) and has a nice local feel inside. I had the pasta with scallops and eggplant, and would have taken the tourist menu, but we would have been there all night.

We found out the name of the home made semolina pasta as made by Angela at the farm stay – Malloreddus (a bit like a semolina gnocchi usually served in a tomato and sausage sauce); which Jane commented was very close to malodorous. At the time I thought she meant it was similar to another Italian word, but it transpired she was referring to an English one, which is often used in relation to yours truly!

Tasty, friendly, not too shabby, I give it a five and a half tentacle squidzy review. Visit it at:
http://www.posadadelmar.it/


Like to find out more?
It’s easy! Literally. They’ve got a magazine guide to Alghero called “easy alghero”. You can check it out online (the English is not as good as in the hard copy) at:

http://www.easyalghero.it/en


Next Stop: Francaise et Arles! May the Francophilia Commence!

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Agriturismi: or How to Get My Goat!

You May recall in our last adventure, we were in Cagliari. This article takes us for a drive up through Sardinia to the mountains and the sea for a stay with goats and farmers while scoffing the local produce.

Before going to Sardinia, Jane did thorough research and wanted a true Sardinian holiday; to stay in the mountains and to look at goats.

Who was I to argue? She was booking the trip and you do get to eat authentic local cuisine, so I was all ears (or should I say “all tongue?”… and enough with the rude comments).

The Italian government has been encouraging farmers to engage in agritourism to develop their tourism industry, and farm stay holidays have become highly popular for those travelling to Italy. My friend Owen (“Hi Owen!”) was staying in Tuscany at a farm two weeks before we left, so if we’ve both been doing it, you know it’s dead-set trendy.

But first we had to get there… cue car hire and several near-death experiences.

Nuraghe Su Nuraxi
On the drive north, we took a detour to see Sardinia’s largest existing Nuragic structure, Nuraghe “Su Nuraxi” – or “Nuraghe of the Nuraghe” (a mix of Italian and Sardinian languages here). I am convinced these ancient monuments are in such terrible repair because farmers and builders in surrounding fields have simply pinched the stone to make walls to hold in goats or to build their terrazzos overlooking the valleys.

Still, you could feel the spirit of the ancient Nuraghic people as we walked around the site: huddled in their giant stone conical tower, defending their well, praying the grain store would hold out until the pillagers grew bored, and picking lice out of their clothes (it wasn’t much of a spirit).

The tour was in Italian, so thank heavens we had our guidebook as well as having previously visited the archaeological museum. I could follow the talk, and I really can’t sprekken Italian (much)!

What You’d Typically Eat…
We had lunch near Su Nuraxi at a restaurant that was full of locals out on a Sunday drive. The building had “pizzeria” written on the roof and a whole page of pizzas listed in the menu, so Jane asked for a pizza. Apparently no pizza was available. Our waitress told us what you’d “typically have”, which is more common in Sardinia than you’d think.

Which leads me to this observation: Instead of a menu being a list of what’s for sale, it’s more a list of what a ristorante can make, or the staff know how to make, some of which may be available – depending on whether they can be bothered, or have the ingredients.

I asked for the tourist menu, which simplified things extraordinarily, but did mean you didn’t get much in the way of trimmings; a salad made of shredded iceberg lettuce only with your osso bucco, and an entrée of fraggole - a simple Sardinian pasta with mushrooms and cheese. Peasant food that was filling, tasty and swelled in your stomach when you drank liquids.

DRIVING AND ARRIVAL
The drive to our agriturismo was breath-taking. “Honestly, Kit?” I hear you think. “Breath taking?” Well, yes. In a number of ways.

First, the hair-pin turns and huge drops over the edge as you drive into the mountains make you gasp. We passed an abandoned silver mine near Montevecchio, with smashed windows and its concrete structures tumbling down the mountain sides, having to drive under its crumbling frame. Breath-taking!

To get to our farm, we also had to drive on narrow roads with Italian drivers coming the other way, then dirt tracks with goats on them, coming over the hills. Breath-taking!

Finally, on arrival, there was a large group of locals leaving a huge Sunday lunch (or collazione Domenica), and our hosts were kind enough to offer us a drink on arrival. I had the aqua vita. Breath-taking!

THE FARM
About a quarter of the way up Sardinia near the west coast, we stayed at Oasi del Cervo (Oasis of the Deer), which is located in the Medio Campidano region. It’s located near the Sardinian town of Montevecchio (the Old Mountain).

Montevecchio, once quite prosperous when the mine was running, has little mining carts and memorabilia out on the street. Now there’s little business, few people, and plenty of abandoned buildings, some of which have the roofs missing. It reminded me of Christchurch (though one twentieth the size); i.e. you can see there was a time when money was pouring in, and then one day the bottom dropped out and people just started leaving buildings empty behind them.

We were the only guests staying at the farm, and had a choice of rooms. We chose one with an authentically “Mediterranean” floral bed spread and amazing views out the window over mountains, rolling valleys, and the sea. We woke to the sound of goat bells going to be milked and the calls of birds, the sunsets fell over the sea, and the air positively smacked of bucolic tranquility.

The farm is home to numerous dogs of all shapes and colours, who are very friendly and accompanied us on walks to look outs. Our hosts, Angela and Giuseppe, were a couple with grown up children. Giuseppe works on the farm while Angela looks after the agristurismo side of things, cooking and cleaning, etc. They were both very welcoming and Angela was the life of the party.

CUCINA DELLA FATTORIA
Angela had done a qualification in baking (or “bake-ology”, I forget which) meaning there were custard doughnuts, tarts, and various other baked goods packing out breakfast and dinner menus.

Dinners were slightly more challenging than breakfasts: with the two of us sitting up at the table with Giuseppe, while Angela cooked in her massive kitchen and came and went with dishes, occasionally popping her head in to watch TV. We struggled through conversation, using Jane’s Italian, mime, and a phone dictionary, which was effective but exhausting.

For dinners we started with an antipasto of vegetables in a light tomato sauce (carrots, peppers, celery), as well as olives, salami, crusty bread and fried eggplant in breadcrumbs that was simply delicious and the winner of the whole meal.

I will be including a recipe for crumbed eggplant with my newspaper article, but the secret is to slice the eggplant very thinly (Angela used a motorised deli slicer), crumb it with egg and bread crumbs (mixed with polenta, pepper and herbs) and fry in olive oil.

The main courses on the first night were a home made semolina pasta with chunks of meat from a wild boar Giuseppe had shot with his 22 calibre rifle, followed by roast piglet with a simple green salad. All washed down with a jug of rough red wine.

The second night’s dinner featured the same entrees, followed by freggola with mushrooms and meat (there is a variant with fish), and finally roast goat, washed down with aqua vita at the end. We were spared a long conversation with Giuseppe as it was action night on television and we sat up and watched Texas Ranger followed by a Steven Segal movie with Italian overdub. Much hilarity ensued after every kiss when I would declaim ‘Non che credo!’ (I don’t believe it). Who says “non habla Italiano”?

BEACHES AND GHOST TOWNS
We drove to the nearby coast while staying at the farm, passing cycling groups and driving across creeks, before arriving at a beach with little cabanas and a hotel built right on the sand called ‘the Dunes’. This is the area where they shot the ‘Black Stallion’, and the coast is very nice – but, coming from Australia, it’s hard to compete. We walked a fair way looking for somewhere safe to swim, since the sand dropped and the waves were closing out where they’d set up the snack shacks and umbrellas. It was extremely hairy; on the west coast there’s nothing between you and Spain, so there was a bit of a swell, but there was an uneven bottom.

Speaking of extremely hairy and uneven bottoms, we walked past a blonde and tanned couple in the nude who smiled at us. We’d accidentally ventured onto the naturists’ beach, and they looked like Adam and Eve on a Metamucil ad. I could just imagine them saying (in German) “I can’t believe I had to go all the way to Sardinia just to be myself” while they enjoyed natural yoghurt and wheat germ for breakfast.

Further down the coast we ran into ghost tourist towns, collections of beautiful buildings that were completely abandoned. We were there on the shoulder season, and it was a Monday, but there was nobody around.

Feeling peckish we headed inland towards larger towns for lunch, but guess what? Everything shuts between 13.30 and 16:30. We drove from town to town, finding shutter after shutter down– restaurants, supermarkets, everything – though the streets still featured mad drivers in small cars and giant busses. On return we told Angela, our host, that everything was shut and she was appalled. Apparently, during the high tourist season, everything is open - but come September, the shutters bang down everywhere but the beach shacks.

The Cucina Score!
So my score on the Oasi del Cervo? For a couple of nights it’s pretty good. Not high food, but authentic, and accompanied by delightful hosts and stunning surrounds. Your diet might become a bit repetitive after a week, and the facilities are pretty basic, but I give it six tentacles out of eight!

To Book Your Holiday

Check out numerous agriturismi at:
http://www.agriturismo.it

Or look up the Oasis of the Deer at:
http://www.agriturismo.it/en/farmhouse/sardinia/medio_campidano/OasidelCervo-1120219/index.html

They also have their own website, but since they’re farmers it’s totally amateur hour and doesn’t tell you anything (and is in Italian)
http://www.oasidelcervo.com


Next episode: Alghero – Coast of the Millionaires!


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SARDINIA PART 1 - Cagliari

Sardinia. The cradle of civilization, located at a historical path of intersecting ways. The holiday retreat of Silvio Berlussconi and Johnny Depp, Sardinia is a popular European travel destination. But in Australia the first thing most people ask is “Where is it? Near Sicily?”

Kind of. Take a look at a map of the Mediterranean. Go up and to the left. See the biggest island, right in the middle of the Sea? That’s Sardinia. Once you’ve seen it, you can’t not see it.

Slap dab in the middle of the Mediterranean, close to Africa and most of Western Europe, accessible to the Middle East, Sardinia has an archaeological history that predates the Bronze Age and has the fingerprints of every major culture from the surrounding regions all over it. Civilisations have spanned through the Nuragic people and their stone fortresses (with between 6,500 – 8,000 “nuragi” ruins around the island, depending on who you talk to), up to the Phoenicians, then the Romans (Sardinia was the wheat bowl for ancient Rome), and finally Christian cultures coming through – including a dose of Catalan culture, the Aragons, and let’s not forget the modern Italian twist.

With its location and constant invasion, with locals retreating to the tops of hills and inland, traditional Sardinian food does not feature sardines, despite the name. Sardinia is more known for its goat meat, cheeses, salamis and hard breads (and goat stealing and the occasional kidnapping). The knives of Sardinia are famous: hand made, curved, and folding down into horn handles, they are perfect for slicing salami or killing someone. But that’s all in the past now.

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