Deep in the mountains, we find two small towns, part of a living museum where, at its centre, for thousands of years, has stood a prehistoric tower, the nuraghe of Armungia. This town has grown around it, stone by stone, and to visit it feels like going back in time, to relive ancient crafts and new emotions.
The scent of the myrtle leads us along a path trailed by miners and peasants, before arriving at the fields and the old mine of Villasalto, the neighbouring town where each family still owns a vineyard and raises goats without a hitch. Some one thousand inhabitants live here, surrounded by mountains where mouflons, foxes and wildcats still roam.
We visit places where the past and the present barely meet because time does not seem to ever pass. We open the wooden doors of old houses into flowered courtyards, to find old cellars and kitchens inside, and to sit at the table with men and women who have been waiting to meet us and share food with us.