Sometimes a week away is what you need to appreciate the place you call home.
I've just come back from five days in England and, as much as I loved seeing my friends and family, having a glass of wine in a pub, and just soaking up the atmosphere, I really was glad when we landed in Olbia. Admittedly, leaving behind the dull grey skies and returning to brilliant sunshine had something to do with it.
As of May 1, Mario and I have been in Sardinia nine years. In that time we've lived in Assemini and Cagliari and Villacidro (the latter temporarily) in the south and Cannigione and Olbia in the north. I never had a problem living in the first four but Olbia is where I'm happiest, quite simply because it ticks most of the boxes for my ideal place to live.
For starters, we're a four-minute car ride away from the airport, with flights going to mainland Italy, Europe and London Gatwick. I'd quite like easyJet to add Barcelona to its routes so that I can get across to visit my brother in Barcelona more easily but since Ryanair already flies from Alghero on the other side of the island we won't quibble too much about that.
We're also a five-minute walk into the centre of town and on the main bus routes. I'm more than happy to get in my car and go wherever I need to go, be that Cagliari, Sassari or simply to get to the supermarket to do the weekly shop. But I love walking and much prefer to get places on foot. And, of course on a night out both of us can drink without arguing about whose turn it is to drive and thus turn down the second glass of wine.
Most of my earliest memories are of being at the beach. Not being able to see the coast sends me into attacks of claustrophobia so we're lucky that we can see the harbourside from our balcony and I walk along the water's edge on a daily basis. We're also less than ten minutes away from the beach and the river, so I get to go canoeing whenever I want.
Olbia may be small but it has a much more Italian feel than any other town on the island. People have moved here from all over Sardinia, Italy, Europe and the rest of the world and friends become surrogate family. Everyone is so welcoming when you arrive because they've been through the process themselves.
Sometimes I bemoan the lack of culture but then I talk myself out of it. When I lived in Liverpool, which has more galleries and museums per capita than any city outside London, I think I visited them a grand total of three times- twice to cover a story for the Liverpool Echo and once to dine in the cafe. If we did have galleries here, it's unlikely that I'd go because I'd be too busy doing something else.
My choice is surprising because on paper I'd never have chosen Olbia. I'm a city girl. I like the chaos and the buzz and the opportunities that living in a big urban sprawl offers. That's why I always thought I'd prefer Cagliari. It's got narrow, winding streets, it's ancient, it's got a Roman amphitheatre and a burrial chamber engraved with poetry in Latin and Ancient Greek. The shopping is brilliant. And, of course, it's on the coast, rising up from the sea like an amber jewel bathed in sunlight. It should have made my heart sing. But, sadly, it didn't.
So, yes, in the end it was Olbia that stole my heart. Olbia with the ugly architecture. Olbia which is an ancient town that has completely built over its past and is only just discovering it now. Olbia that, rather strangely, has its university housed on the first floor of the airport.
Put simply, Olbia makes me happy. 'Olbia polis' means 'the happy city' in ancient Greek so, perhaps, it's not so surprising that I chose to make this my home after all.
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