If you are a traditional tourist, Sinis is not for you.
Too much sun, too green, too many beaches, too much clean water. Then there is no marine barrier. It is said that the deployment of yachts, yachts and sailing ships that completely occupies the marine horizon of pleasant places such as the Costa Smeralda. This barrier stretches, white and pitching, for miles and miles, and is called “camparina” because on each boat there are groups of elegant and bored people sipping Campari. This is their way of experiencing the sea intensely. Impossible to swim between the moorings, you would end up strangled, and if you get too close to a boat you risk a barrage of machine guns. In Sinis, on the other hand, there is no barrier and (incredible to say) you can swim far and wide, the water is clean, even if occasionally a storm brings some souvenirs from Spain. There are legendary beaches, such as Sa Mesa Longa, Is Aruttas, Is Arenas, Mari Ermi, there are the prehistoric dunes of Capo Mannu. There is sugar-white sand whose reflection can roast a German in forty seconds. There are cliffs from which you can dive like in Acapulco, take the moray eels for the tail and see the lobster quadrille. In Sinis, in fact, one of the greatest dangers for the traditional tourist is fresh fish. Will your stomach, accustomed to octopus sea bass and Findus sticks, withstand the exquisite impact of the Cabras mullet, the Marceddì clams, the snappers and the lobsters of Su Pallosu? You will be able to face Uncle Cuccu’s famous Bath of a Thousand Claws, where hundreds of lobsters and lobsters live peacefully, and in which dozens of tourists have crashed and been torn to pieces (so the legend says!). Will you resist conger soup and purebred burrida? And what will you say when you find the colossal nuraghi in front of you (attention, they are not fish!)? Not to mention the rivers and plains where the most beautiful Italian westerns were filmed, true pieces of Arizona where instead of Bill and Jack, ride Collu and Puddu, the Sardinian knights considered among the best in the world. And the danger of animals? Climb the mount of Seneghe dozens of wild boars come to meet you to sell you the famous healing water. In the ponds, flamingos can be photographed in lascivious poses. Cormorants, grebes, hawks, knights of Italy, marragau (the local hummingbird) and colorful camulli fly up in the sky and on the water. Foxes undermine your picnic. Wild rabbits, quail, pigs thorns, weasels, beech martens and the famous white hippopotamus of the salt pans, always invisible because it is soaking in the mud, but I swear it exists. And the perfumes? The myrtle, the helichrysum, the juniper, the dill, the mixed grills, the saucepan with the sheep, the powerful cheeses. And for lovers of danger, extreme adventures: jogging at noon in the boundless salt pans of Sale Porcus; jumping from the rocks of Capo Mannu, and surfing in the bay; ride the Concheferru horse among the dunes and pine forests of Is Arenas; tackle the paths of Lake Omodeo in search of the Big Perch; reach Su Pallosu, the Sardinian Tortuga, a magical land inhabited by pirates and corallaries, camulli hunters and cooks of moray eel croquettes. There are no VIPs, but you will meet cheerful, nice and proud people. I have been going there for twenty five years and I would not change these places with anything in the world, and I swear to you that I have seen the most beautiful seas, from Cuba to Riccione, from the Comoros to the Idroscalo. And when you are in a hammock, at sunset, while a lobster plays the launeddas for you and you sip vernaccia breathing the smell of the helichrysum and the pig and in the sky a flock of flamingos draws the word “welcome” (they have been trained very well!) you will see that suddenly, as if by magic, you will no longer feel the nostalgia of the marine barrier, the VIPs and the crowded night clubs. And you will want to take a bath in clean water. Unless you’re allergic. Stefano Benni