Cala Domestica

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17 May 2011

As we left the Tempio de Antas we had no clear idea where we were headed other than we wanted to carry on northwards.

The first village on the twisting mountain road was Fluminimaggiore and it turned out to be a delightful place with friendly and helpful locals. It had colourful murals all over the place. Some depicting local scenes and people, some illustrating the business of the buildings they were on and some making political statements. I particularly liked the man size illustrations on the tourist office of the 3,000 year old nuraghic bronze statuettes we had seen in the Cagliari archaeological museum. Inside the office was a picture of a beautiful sandy inlet which we were told was called Cala Domestica and was 15 kilometres southwards along the coast.

We had to see it, so set off in totally the opposite direction to what we had originally intended passing on the way a huge sandy beach backed by impressive cliffs and driving through the resort of Buggerru set in an attractive valley. Whilst servicing the van at a camper stop there we bumped into the leader of a group of Dutch campervans on a month long tour who we had last seen at a camper stop about a week ago.

When we eventually arrived at Cala Domestica it didn’t disappoint. It was a deep inlet with two perfect sandy beaches, an azure clear sea and the mountains dropping steeply to the coast. It had a striking resemblance to our favourite beach in Cornwall, Polly Joke. After a walk to the local headland, a scramble to one of the coves over the rocks and through a tunnel constructed as part an old Tuna fishing station, a swim in the chilly waves and a leisurely lunch admiring the view, we finally moved on.

During our walk we had met a couple of English cyclists who told us they had seen campervans parked by remote beaches on the Costa Verde, the next area northwards. That sounded just right for us so we made our way along more steep winding roads with occasional glimpses of a shimmering sea. When we arrived at what we thought was the right place it turned out to be a disappointment, a car park at a not too attractive resort. So it was back south again, down a lane we had spotted and there we found a rough track leading to flat sandy shelf right by the sea and a small beach. An idyllic place to spend the night, and as it was facing west we watched the setting sun dip below the sea and turn the sky red whilst enjoying our supper.

An extraordinary day in the unpredictable life of a campervanner!

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