Sardinia is out of time and history
(David Herbert Lawrence)

But this morning in the omnibus I realize that, apart from the great rediscovery backwards, which one must make before one can be whole at all, there is a move forwards. There are unknown, unworked lands where the salt has not lost its savour. But one must have perfected oneself in the great past first.

…Usually, the lifelevel is reckoned as sea-level. But here, in the heart of Sardinia, the life-level is high as the golden-lit plateau, and the sea-level is somewhere far away, below, in the gloom, it does not signify. The life-level is high up, high and sun-sweetened and among rocks. We stood and looked below, at the puff of steam, far down the wooded valley where we had come yesterday. There was an old, low house on this eagleperching piazza. I would like to live there.

The real village or rather two villages, like an ear-ring and its pendant lay still beyond, in front, ledging near the summit of the long, long, steep wooded slope, that never ended till it ran flush to the depths away below there in shadow. And yesterday, up this slope the old peasant had come with his two brilliant daughters and the packpony. And somewhere in those ledging, pearly villages in front must be my girovago and his “wife”. I wish I could see their stall and drink aqua vitae with them.