A valley opens up before us and we catch sight of the ocean at last. Three hours on the road, Alghero far behind us. We’re heading towards Baunei – a tiny mountain town on the east of the island. The wind picks up by the time we reach our little house in the hills. The weather has nothing to hide up here. It rumbles and shifts; the clouds bruised, battered and heavy.
We walk into town for dinner, to a restaurant tucked away atop a bar. There are paper tablecloths and the wine is cheap (but as it turns out, a revelation). We eat culurgiones (potato and cheese stuffed dumplings) and pizza. The walk back home is silent, blissfully silent. 
Day four: Baunei
To The Table 