After the crush in Rome on Saturday, we set sail back West, and our next port of call was Cagliari on the Italian Island of Sardinia; quiet as a mouse on a Sunday morning. Just a few tourist shops open and locals lounging in cafes or heading to morning mass.
My lasting impression of Cagliari, sadly, is of a run-down town where every available vertical surface appears to be tagged with graffiti. What makes these people want to put their “art” on show on someone else’s property is just beyond me. Much of it is not actually “art” in the “Banksy” mode; kissing constables are acceptable to me as free public art if they are well drawn or say something.
I can live with that.
Tagging seems just so much scrawl in a language that escapes me, or just goes over my head. While not quite “Kevin 4 Sharon” as you might get in some of the more run down areas of England, it just seems as much pointless vandalism; an expression of frustration with a society where the majority already have far more than our grandparents ever dreamed of, and, at least in the European Union, many more opportunities to better themselves.
Cowering between the graffiti, Cagliari has a few nice touches; churches, cafes, little squares and statues to distract you, but we soon returned to the ship and left it behind. Sardinia’s mountainous inland is meant to be worth spending some time exploring, but that would have to be left for another trip.
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