Discovering the Culture of Sardinia

Italy, a magnificent country. It's all here. It's quite breathtaking. A place where I feel deeply connected. This is where my grandmother Polizzi's journey began. In this series, I'm returning, but I'm leaving the mainland to explore Italy's extraordinary islands. So beautiful. Revisiting memories. I haven't been here since I was a child, and I thought I'd make a pilgrimage. And building new ones. Born and born and born and born and born. I mean, this is one of the maddest things I've ever done. Feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience. On a journey of discovery from the ancient, rugged beauty of Sardinia, the remains here are spintingly, to the splendor and surprises of Sicily. And some of the Mediterranean's hidden treasures. It does just feel a million miles away from anywhere else. Oh, look at this. It's one of Sicily's most striking secrets. I can't believe it, it's been too long. This is my Italian island adventure. My tour begins with Sardinia, Italy's second-largest island and a place that's a part of my heritage. Completely marooned in the Mediterranean, its isolation has made Sardinia fiercely independent from the rest of Italy. It's the maverick of the Med. I'll be arriving into its chaotic capital city, Cagliari, before venturing into the rugged Supremonte district, unearthing its dark past and discovering what makes the mountain town of Lanose truly unique. It's a four-hour journey from the north to south of this vast island. Tourists are drawn to the captivating beauty of the north coast. The Costa Esmeralda is one of the most glamorous stretches. Super yachts line the marina at Porto Cervo, and the beach at Stintino is a sun-seeker's fantasy. But my journey starts in the south. I should have a strong connection with this island. My father had Sardinian roots, and his mother, my beloved grandmother, was born here. My nonna Pulizzi was the most amazing woman, and I got on with her incredibly well. She was very sharp, very funny, took no nonsense from anybody, and I miss her every single day of my life. But in fact, Sardinia is the island that I know least. I never came here growing up as a child. My forte family were always too nervous about kidnappings and the troubles in Italy at the time. My only real encounter with Sardinia was when my nonna used the local dialect from time to time. I was going to want to talk to my grandfather without our children knowing. She'd slip immediately into Sardinian, which is completely incomprehensible. And I used to tease her about it endlessly, and it's pretty hard, even for an Italian speaker, to get their heads around Sardinian. I never managed it. It seems fitting to start my journey of exploration with a visit to its capital city, Cagliari. My grandmother had a house here. I only talked so many times about coming here, about her bringing me here, and I never made it with her. Silly me. Most visitors arrive here via the airport, one of three this island has. But as far as I'm concerned, the best way to first catch sight of it is from the water. Cagliari's beauty is rather subtle. Certainly from here, it's not the most beautiful city I've ever been to. DH Lawrence said it was nothing like Italy, but I think it's still recognizably Mediterranean. It does have a certain charm of its own. It's slightly crumbling in the way that so many Italian cities are, but that is part of the charm of Italy. I wouldn't change it for the world. Being here has awakened my desire to know more about my heritage. I absolutely adored my nonna Polizzi, Nonna Lilina, but I didn't know much about her life. So I've come to Cagliari's registry archive, at the heart of the city, in the hope that Salvatore can tell me more about my roots. But what's written here is a complete surprise to me. It turns out that I'm more connected to this island than I realized. I knew I was a quarter Sardinian, but now it appears I may be more than that. I may be even half Sardinian. Now that I've discovered I have more roots here than I thought, I'm really excited to explore the Sardinian culture. As one of the biggest ports in the Mediterranean, the sprawl of Cagliari's neighborhoods is about as chaotic as Sardinia will ever get. But like so many places I've visited, its cuisine holds the key to what this city is really all about. In Italy, markets really are still a way of life. People very rarely go to a supermarket. So this is a wonderful way to absorb local culture, local traditions, and also local cuisine. But it's well worth hopping on a bus or in a taxi and making the short journey to San Benedetto's market. Here, you'll be rewarded with some real Sardinian produce if you're feeling brave. It's incredibly evocative for me. When I was on the boat with my grandparents, about every other day, we'd have to come to a fruit market, a vegetable market, a fish market like this. There were about 10 of us to feed day in, day out, and then get through a lot of food. This vibrant space is one of the largest indoor markets in Europe. But with more than 200 stallholders all vying for your business, it's a pretty daunting prospect. Francesco is one of the city's most famous restaurateurs, and he's agreed to help me navigate my way to the best bits of Sardinian cuisine. Like stallholder Maurizio's porcedo, or suckling pig. Here, no part of the pig is wasted. This is boiled hoof and neck. It's boiled with vinegar and parsley. How do you eat it? It's already cooked, ready to eat. And it's delicious. Oh my God, I don't know! It's quite fatty, but not nearly as slimy as you'd expect. But as far as I'm concerned, you're not Italian if you don't adore cheese. Both of my grandmothers were fabulous cooks. Their soufflés and risottos form my earliest food memories. Italians eat a lot of cheese. Even in my little household with two small children, well, I definitely get through a kilo of Parmesan a month. Easily. Sardinia's most famous export is pecorino, a robust cheese that's made from sheep's milk. So this is the most typical Sardinian cheese. In Sardinia, they even use this grated on top of spaghetti. I love cheese, so I'm in heaven. It's very strong tasting, very strong flavoured. They say you can have too much of a good thing. I can't say I agree, personally. Yummy. I could stay here all day. I'm not even vaguely cheesed out. But in the noisy depths, you'll find what this market is most famous for, an abundance of the freshest seafood. They're so fresh, they're alive. So do you serve these in your restaurant? Yeah, a lot. We just boil them up and put a little bit of salt. Seed slugs. Somehow, anything with the word slug in it doesn't really encourage me. But are they good? Yeah, yeah. Yeah? Are they in a good taste? The taste is very strong. Very strong. I can't say I'm convinced. But Francesco isn't letting me leave Cagliari without trying one of his seafood specialties at his restaurant, Lillicool. So, these are gianchetti, which are a specialty from around here. Little baby fish fried up. Delicious. Down near the port, where the food is more reasonably priced, this atmospheric trattoria draws in crowds from all walks of life. Opera singer Andrea Bocelli can be spotted dining on seafood alongside hungry fishermen. This place is an institution. Everyone comes here, and I understand why. Cagliari has delivered a healthy dose of authentic culture, but it's inland where you'll find the real essence of Sardinia. I've traveled three hours east of Cagliari, where the drama of Sardinia's wild, sparse interior begins to unfold. This vast wilderness behind me is a supramonte. The silence is only broken by dogs barking and the sound of the goats' bells. For the more adventurous traveler, this part of the island is ripe for exploration. Vistas like this jaw-dropping gorge can be discovered, and the atmospheric town of Orgozzolo is a real highlight of the region, where years of political turmoil are etched on its buildings in a series of poignant murals. But I'm drawn to this rugged landscape because of its dark past. In the early 70s, when I was a child, Sardinia was encountering terrible troubles with bandits. There had been a series of brutal kidnappings where the wealthy were being targeted. Because of the success of my grandfather's business, I was deemed a kidnap risk. I've decided to hire a local guide, Luciano, to learn more about these troubled times and understand why my parents kept me from visiting Sardinia as a child. Bene, grazie. Andiamo. When I was young, I heard these stories endlessly, and obviously it wasn't just the question of ransom, it was just the fear of having someone taken from you. It was very alive in all our minds. People were very, very fearful. The bandits use this vast granite landscape to evade capture. These mountains are studded with a network of caves, that made it easy for them to keep moving and stay hidden from the authorities. So, this is an area that was probably a hiding place. It definitely shows a sign of human habitation, whether it was just because of the goats and the shepherds, or whether it was used for more sinister purposes. They used the whole area. They could have hidden it in a simple stone, where they hid under it. Yes. Or there are huge caves. Huge caves that have a hole in them, right? Yes. There are people in them, people who run around in them. They knew all the hiding places, and someone who wasn't from here would never, ever have been able to scope them out. It's very heavily wooded. It's very rocky, it's pretty impenetrable. It's incredible to think that bandits were bringing victims here as recently as 1997. But now, it's a much safer destination for visitors looking to hire a car and explore. There is, however, one enduring figure that has always remained here. For the shepherd, farming this land is just a way of life. The bonus of having a guide is getting to meet the locals. Luciano's taking me to meet the last isolated shepherd to live and work out in these mountains. At the ripe age of 80, Ciccio has never married. Instead, he chose an entire lifetime of farming here. Ciccio's family would love to see him move closer to town, but he refuses to give up his animals. What a charmer he is, 80 years old, and so cheerful. He's an example to all of us. And I seem to have charmed Ciccio because he's invited us to stay for lunch, and I'm in for a treat. He's been preparing the traditional feast of the Sardinian suckling pig. So, this is a two-month-old pig. He says only here, in this part of the world, do they cook them so small. The secret to cooking it is slowly and gently over a low heat. Two hours. It's the first time I've eaten suckling pig on the spot where it's been raised, so I'm very excited indeed. This traditional way of cooking is primitive, but nothing could prepare me for how Ciccio's nephew carves the meat. Please. We're quite far removed, aren't we, in normal life, from how we eat meat. It's quite sobering seeing it being carved like this. This is how real men eat. I'm very, very excited. Oh, it is so tender. I have honestly, honestly, honestly, never in my life eaten pork like this. These days, there's a lot of chat about provenance. It's very in, isn't it? Everyone has on their menu how far away their ingredients come from, but this is zero metres away. This is made from this bit of land, and it's unbelievable. I'm thin, but I eat when I eat. Yes. It's just that I make that movement, I can't, of course, I don't think I'll become obese. No, no, no risk. Cheers, salute. The mountainous Supramonte district where Ciccio lives is one of the poorest and most remote parts of Sardinia. So it's a real surprise to discover at the foot of these mountains a touch of glamour. This is Sul Gologone, an award-winning hotel where you can experience untouched Sardinia in luxury. These rooms were designed in honour of the tradition of shepherding here, and there are so many references to where they used to live, what they used to wear, the fabrics. It's all very authentic, but it's also all done in extremely good taste. The hotel began life as a simple trattoria built by Peppedo Palimode back in 1960, and is now a 68-bedroom retreat run by his daughter, Giovanna. So much of what you see is made right here on site in an effort to preserve some of Sardinia's age-old crafts. Visitors can even have a go at a few traditional recipes. And as a baker's wife, there's one old shepherd's staple that I'm very interested in trying. Pane Carasau is one of Sardinia's most enduring culinary traditions because it was so useful for the sheep herders, the goat herders. They would go for months on end away from villages, obviously carrying all their provisions with them. And this bread, because it's dried, can last up to three months. The kneading is the hardest bit of this whole process. I know this from Oxford's bakery. It looks very simple, looks like any idiot could do it. Believe you me, I'm one idiot who can't. The important thing is to only ever do it in one direction and then you turn it and do it in the other direction. This isn't as easy as it looks. I am feeling the pressure. I'm going to be mocked at home for my technique. Finally, after hours of resting, the dough is ready to be baked and it's quite a sight. It's amazing because it starts off by bubbling up and it looks like a kind of disease. And then finally it blows up completely. It's very thin, very crispy and quite easy to eat in order that quantity is off. Although it does last three months, this lady says there's nothing better than when it just comes out of the oven. Really, really good. The more time I spend on this island, the more I realise how independent it feels from the rest of Italy. It's interesting because Sardinia is even more regionalised than most bits of Italy. It's an island, but you go from place to place and there are different customs, different skills, different traditions and they're all passionately being maintained. It's one of the things I love so much about being here, actually. But I'm yet to discover some of the more curious traditions that are so unique to this isle. Most visitors never venture further than Sardinia's 2,000 kilometres of beguiling bays and beaches. But I think the real appeal of this island is in its ancient history. Sardinia is said to predate Italy itself and mysterious evidence of man has existed here for thousands of years. More than 7,000 relics of prehistoric villages and tombs like this litter the landscape and are all easily accessible to visitors. Today, Sardinians affectionately regard these ancient burial chambers as fairy houses. Thanks to a history of isolation, some curious traditions are preserved on Sardinia. Some have even been afforded the protection of UNESCO in order to safeguard them. If you're visiting during one of the island's annual festivals, you may come across this mysterious form of folk music. It's known as canto a tenore and it's another nod to the shepherd farming his flock. If you explore the southwestern corner of the island, Italy's oldest city, Sant'Antioco, can be found jutting out from the coast. Here, there is a modest museum run by a local weaver named Chiara. She's allowed me to come and see her at work but I'm interrupting her at my peril because some say she's a witch. Chiara takes her art very seriously because this isn't any old thread she's weaving. She claims to be the last woman in the world to weave sea silk. It's rumored that she's been offered billions for her work. She commands respect and I need to watch my step. This silky thread is called bissus and it comes from huge saltwater clams. Already, I'm amazed. So that is the mollusk that she spins this wonderful thread from. It's a priceless material. At 60 years of age, Chiara has to dive 100 times in order to collect a mere 15 meters of thread. You have to hold and feel this delicate sea silk to even begin to comprehend just how precious it is. It not only weighs nothing but it feels like nothing. I would have sworn there was nothing on my hand. After an awkward start, we seem to be getting along. Chiara's even letting me in on the secrets of her craft. She's twisting it and then with that she then spins it further into a Z shape. That's what she calls it. Tessere, tessere, tessere filare indemoneare e denovro vida mia e andare d'ape in terra e comincia la sua pazienza in savermina mancare. E il filo è fatto. So that is the thread made and now she has to do the magic bit. It's amazing that she's made this thread in front of me. Chiara's work isn't for sale. And I can understand why. Isn't that beautiful? It would take 20 years to make a dress. No. Took five years to make that. Only presidents and popes have been deemed worthy recipients of her pieces. She says she would never sell any of this, any of anything that she makes because they are works of art that belong to the world. And so when they're ready, they're ready. Hurry has no place here. It's not just the traditions that have aged well here. It's customary in Sardinia to toast with the words may you live to a hundred years. And on this island, for some reason, many do. Astonishingly, there are currently 411 centenarians living here, more than anywhere else in the world. All of my grandparents lived to a ripe old age. So I've always believed this part of the world had something in its water. My curiosity has brought me to meet Angela Ampierino. The island's official photographers of centenarians. It's been a year since Angela Ampierino have had this project of photographing centenarians. And three or four times a week, he says he's being called somewhere to take a photo of yet another one. It's a portfolio like no other. 105 almost this month. I mean, there are some quite astonishing photos here. People who look so hale and hearty, you wouldn't believe for a minute they're over 100. There's one guy here who's still a shepherd at the age of 100, still taking his sheep into pasture. These photos give a sense of the strong family tradition that exists here. Old age is much more precious here. It's a matter of enormous pride if you manage to get to 100. It's a matter of pride for the family. These images are heart-warming to see. But some of these folk are doing more than just enjoying old age, as I'm about to find out. They're helping science in a study that could one day affect us all. The Genargento is a vast area of granite mountainous country. It's a hiker's paradise. But my fascination with the number of centenarians in Sardinia has brought me to the tiny town of Lanouzet. Because here, within an old schoolhouse, there is a world-leading laboratory full of gadgetry and scientists. A groundbreaking project named Progenia is underway, where the genes of local people are being studied to see if this region holds the answer to the way we age. Eduardo is one of the key scientists. So, Eduardo, tell me about what you're doing here. We are studying the aging of humans. We are a nice population to be studied for aging, for autoimmunity, and for longevity. So you are studying the traits that lead to longevity? Yes, so... That's right. This is the point. Who will benefit from the research? I mean, the entire population, the world population, because aging and problems related to aging... Affects everybody. Yes. 6,000 volunteers, aged from 18 through to 105, undergo routine check-ups. Eduardo and his fellow scientists are evaluating the way the aging process affects the immune system. It's mind-boggling stuff. The fact that you have a large group of people here in this area who miraculously live to a great age means that you have a bigger pool of people to use as research. Yeah. We are trying to collect their blood, their genetic information, and their immune system to define and to see why they are so... So... Long-lived. Yeah, so long-lived. Exactly, exactly. It's incredibly important work that's happening. It's another world from that in which I come from, and it's very interesting. I'm very proud of the fact I have four grandparents and none of them died under the age of 90. Can I take your blood? It's good, though. I always think it must mean that I've got good genetic... good genetic characteristics. I think it's astonishing that such an important facility is in such a small place and it's encouraged to happen here because of this particular genetic makeup of this island. Who would have thought that this little town has the potential to impact on us all? Although Sardinia has a record-breaking number of centenarians, I didn't expect to be here just as it gained another. But as the final part of my journey takes me back towards Cagliari, I've come to the nearby town of Settimo San Pietro, where I've been invited to join photographers Pierino and Angela as they photograph one man's momentous day. It's an opportunity I'm certainly not going to miss. This is our centenarian, Angelo, who's going in to celebrate with mass and church. He's in good form for 100, isn't he? I would say that we all want to look like that when we're 100. Maybe with slightly less facial hair, but otherwise exactly like that. I used to go to mass every Sunday with the rest of my family until I was 19. It is still something I enjoy doing today whenever I get the opportunity. That was really nice. It's very cheering to see a 100-year-old man surrounded by so many friends and family, by so much affection and goodwill. It's the longest time since I've been to mass and I've enjoyed it so much. The entire town has turned out to mark the occasion and the respect being shown for Angelo is incredibly moving. There's a lovely cake. There's lots of people here to celebrate. A few people in traditional costume. He's a popular man. He's lived 100 years. They live 100 more. I can still clearly remember the celebrations when my own great-grandmother reached 100, with all of us grandchildren around her. Being here in Sardinia obviously makes me think of my family, my beloved grandmother particularly, my nonna Polizzi, who I miss every single day of my life. She didn't make it to 100. I wish she'd had. It's a great comfort to me that she at least saw my daughter. I can only imagine how lovely it is for all these great-grandchildren to know their great-grandfather too. It's a really nice occasion. And it's one that I consider myself very, very lucky to have been a part of. I feel very talented. Not quite as Sardinian as maybe I should. Maybe it's a part of my culture I should embrace a bit further. Before I leave Sardinia, I receive some welcome news about my own Sardinian family. Salvatore from the archive registry has made a discovery about my darling nonna. This is the end of my Sardinian journey. But this is where my grandmother Polizzi's journey began. This is where she was born. And I thought I'd make a pilgrimage just to have one last contact with my nonna. Next time, I'll be discovering Italy's smaller islands. From the sun-kissed glamour of Capli... It's only in Italy that you get a bespoke sandal made. ...to the little-known Aeolian island of Fili Cudi. Here there'd be dragons.