Sardinia...sea and mountains - August 29th/September 8th, 2013
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Sunday, September 8, 2013. 12:30 pm.
A little tired, we walk through the front door. We unload our suitcases. We pack our MG. We're swallowed up by the urgency of daily life, which forcefully calls us back to domestic duties: shopping to do, suitcases to unpack, plants to water, lunch to cook... but a strange melancholy slowly envelops me, and with the memories still vivid in my heart, I relive what was a special, out-of-the-ordinary vacation for me.
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I relive our arrival in Livorno, the warm and long-awaited encounter with our friends from Veneto, and above all, the surprise and curiosity we felt for those who had come from so far away. I look at the license plates of their MGs and realize, with naive amazement, that almost all of Europe is represented, from east to west, from north to south. I feel a little excited and, at the same time, intimidated at having to spend a long week with people, most of whom speak a foreign language.
With my characteristic imagination, I observe their faces, their smiles, and try to reconstruct each of their stories. But it doesn't take much creativity to grasp, deep down in every glance, that healthy madness that unites them and that drove them to cross Europe driving their wise, yet still dated, little cars, to reach the heart of the Mediterranean, probably aware of the richness of colors, scents, flavors, and emotions they would soon experience.
When you think of Sardinia, you think of the emerald hues of the sea and the coastline alive with almost lifelike shapes. But it was surprising to discover its heart, which, like the most prestigious theater, opens its curtains on marvelous scenery: a palette of colors unfamiliar to those arriving from the North unfolds across mountainous expanses; the bright green of the maritime pines gives way to the intense green of the myrtle plants, merging with the warm orange of the prickly pear cactus... a bewitching medley of scents and colors (... some people have actually gotten drunk... on the Cannonau).
The warm yet shy welcome of the people of the villages we passed through struck a chord with me, and I was most fascinated by the people, both old and young. The elderly, whose clothing and hairstyles reveal a strong desire to remain anchored to the past, a past rich in values, and the young, who, through folk dances and costumes, strive to keep traditions alive.
In a consumerist world like the one we live in, where everything passes quickly, where fashion imposes its hegemony, where if you're not IN you're OUT, I felt like I was taking a leap into my not-so-distant past where both people and objects had a value and for a moment I felt a strong nostalgia for those who are no longer part of my life, like my grandparents who I saw again in those flat caps and in their tied hair.
The present that sent me back to the past, the one I sometimes painfully miss.
An extraordinary holiday, beyond all expectations, as I was saying. Yes, because it wasn't just about getting to know Sardinia, but also about meeting and connecting with foreign and Italian friends. After some initial shyness, partly due to the difficulty of digging up linguistic memories from my past studies (which had been languishing for some time now), the ice broke and (almost) like a raging river, I found myself intrigued to chat amicably with people from as far away as Australia, who recounted and shared photos of their MG tours between Africa and Europe, as well as of their children, grandchildren, and recent weddings; to chat with those who had happily left Belgium to spend a get-together with Italians ("...who can be a lesson in organization and conviviality..."); and to discuss the challenges of raising children with a charming Dutch gentleman, and to listen with interest to a Sicilian literature professor who lovingly speaks of her homeland and her friendship with Giuseppe Tornatore, to laugh and joke with a "young" local couple and with friends whose affection we already know binds us: magnificent, I'd even say miraculous... the world at home, so far away and yet so close. We become friends, we invite each other over, we exchange addresses, and we promise to meet again.
"I wish we could become one big family..." These are the words of Piero (Fusaroli) that accompanied us on this holiday. Well done Piero, you succeeded with your calmness and great humanity, you allowed us to have a wonderful holiday: for the enchanting places, for the special people, for the emotions I personally experienced... and also for the legendary MG, which certainly helped bring a touch of lightness to a land of ancient and sometimes harsh flavors.
Last but not least, I want to take this space to thank Salvo, my great love, who takes me and our children (sometimes begging us and sometimes forcing us) and allows us to experience, through the passion for his MG, unforgettable moments like this holiday.
Teresa Chiaradonna (wife of Salvo Arcidiacono)
Car Museum on the Roads of Sardinia
Nine years after its first outing to Sardinia, the MG Car Club Italia brought its convoy of magnificent automobiles to the enchanting island—famous for the colors of its sea, the wild and unspoiled nature of its interior, the purity of its crystal-clear water, and the alluring landscapes that make it a true earthly paradise—with crews from all over Europe and beyond.
In 2004, there were 80 cars; this year, more than 70, all arriving at the event under their own power, that is, without the aid of a trailer. The oldest? A six-cylinder, 1271 cc ND from 1934, 24 of which were built, then on sale for £445, driven by German driver Gerhard Maier. It was closely followed by two PAs from the same period, one turbocharged, driven by Belgian Philip Quy, and a "production" one (only 220 were built), driven by Italian Paolo Prati. The former was the protagonist of a touching episode when, with all the cars lined up "on display" in the small square in Tortolì, he picked up a child with polio and sat him in his car, giving him the great joy of an unforgettable moment. It was a moving gesture, one of great humanity, which for a moment brought us all together and united us in an embrace of universal solidarity.
For Morris Garage enthusiasts who peacefully invaded this magnificent island over the course of ten days between August and September, there were ups and downs, punctuated by bizarre and capricious weather: arriving under relentless pouring rain from Olbia to Arbatax, and then sunny days to enjoy the sea: the beautiful Orroli beach, a boat trip to discover hidden coves for an unforgettable swim (Cala Mariolu and Cala Luna), a day at Costa Rei with lunch on the shore... And the mountainous interior with winding roads perfect for our little old ladies to climb, with visits to nuraghi, caves, and a nature still full of secrets and charm.
And the visit and tasting at the Jerzu winery? And the culinary side of Sardinia? Far from secondary, we Italians love to eat well, and foreigners are crazy about our wine... I think everyone will remember the evening at the fishermen's cooperative, where we enjoyed the freshest fish, which just minutes earlier we'd seen being caught with our own eyes!
By the way, there were two Australian crews – Dave Goodwin and Laurel and Ken Slater with his wife Sue – who, together with a group of Englishmen (about ten cars) crossed Africa last year, and they showed us the film of their incredible adventure.
Other interesting cars, moving forward in time and thus moving towards the post-war period, include the splendid TC, seven in total: among them, my usual two favorites, the two-tone red and black one by Malcom Sayers and the two-tone ivory and green one by Dieter Wagner, which they transformed into "cycle wings." There are also seven TDs and three TFs. Among the former are the interesting solutions proposed to improve onboard comfort by German Bernd Muller, who equipped his car with chrome spoked wheels, a detail that scandalizes purists.
In 1955, the MG A was introduced in Abingdon, which took first place in its class at the Mille Miglia in 1956. There are 25 of them at the rally (100,000 were produced), three of which are twin cam, or double overhead camshaft. One coupé (he also owns a roadster) belongs to Dane Tom Gustavsson, who had the engine tuned by specialist Oselli in England, increasing its displacement to 2,000 cc with double the power of the standard model. There are 15 Bs, and four Cs (same body but 3,000 cc engine instead of 1,800 cc), one on each side of the closed body, i.e., GT.
I almost forgot about the only "saloon" present. That's what the English call four-door sedans. It's a YA, black, produced in the post-war period (1947-1951), 6,158 of which cost £671. Gabriele Cadeddu is driving it, and the old lady will give him a hard time, especially uphill.
It remains to mention the exquisite hospitality of the Sardinian people, intrigued, enthusiastic, and generous, who have always made us feel at home and sometimes even treated us like stars, celebrities. Perhaps our cars are; we simply have the privilege and fortune of driving them...
Peter Noah