Sella del diavolo, Cagliari — Round trip

The parking lot at Canale Palma was almost empty. It was an October morning. The wind smelled of the sea, the sun still seemed as if it didn't have to exert itself. I set off. First to Cala Bernat. The water was turquoise green, smooth as glass. Only the gentle lapping of the waves tickling my feet. Otherwise, silence. My shoes stayed in the sand. Here, time moves at its own pace. Then on. The Torre del Prezzemolo appeared as if it had been waiting for me. An old watchtower from the days when people were more afraid of pirates than selfie sticks. The path was steep, the ground crumbling. But at the top, the view was rewarding: Cagliari in the distance, the Golfo degli Angeli glittering, and beyond, only the vast blue. The path wound on to Faro di Capo Sant'Elia. The lighthouse stands there like one that has seen it all. The wind tugs at our jackets, seagulls screech as if they wanted to tell us what happened here. At the top: a panoramic view. Freedom. You simply stop. One last detour to the Vista sulla baia viewpoint. Poetto Beach stretches out like a sleepy dragon, with the Devil's Saddle in the background. A setting like something out of old stories, only here you can still feel it. Finally, the Torre del Poetto. The tower struggles to stay upright. In 1597, a sentry stood here, while now I gaze out to sea. No enemy sails in sight. Just water, expanse, and wind. And this quiet premonition: Some places tell the most when they're silent.