Introduction: Ancient Memories Woven by a Mining Town
In the west of the Italian peninsula, floating in the Mediterranean Sea, lies the island of Sardinia. Located in the southwest of this island, Iglesias is a small town with a population of about 27,000, but its name carries deep historical significance. “Iglesias” means “churches” in Spanish, and numerous churches built during medieval times still watch over the town today.
The true charm of this town lies in its centuries-long history of mining. Blessed with mineral resources such as silver, lead, and zinc, this region has been mined since ancient Roman times, and particularly from the 19th to 20th centuries, it flourished as one of Europe’s leading mining areas. Even today, abandoned mine sites dot the town’s surroundings, quietly marking time as industrial heritage.
The landscape surrounding Iglesias is filled with the distinctive dry beauty characteristic of Sardinia. White limestone cliffs, the deep blue of the Mediterranean, and a mosaic woven by wild macchia (Mediterranean scrubland). While the town itself is located inland, a few minutes’ drive leads to beautiful coastlines. Nearby stands “Porto Flavia,” a former mining port built on sheer cliffs, creating a unique landscape where industrial heritage and natural beauty unite.
As can be said of all of Sardinia, this island is dotted with mysterious ruins of the ancient Nuragic civilization. The nuraghi, conical towers built by stacking stones, are evidence of a distinctive civilization that lasted from around 1500 BC to 500 BC. Several nuraghi remain around Iglesias, quietly speaking to us modern people about the lives of ancient peoples.
Day 1: Arrival - Welcomed by Stone-built Memories
After an hour’s drive from Cagliari Airport, I arrived in Iglesias in the late afternoon. What greeted me at the town’s entrance was a cluster of old stone buildings. The sun was beginning to set westward, and the white limestone walls were bathed in warm golden light.
My accommodation was a small hotel in the town center, converted from a 19th-century building with impressive thick stone walls and high ceilings. From my room’s window, I could look down on a narrow cobblestone street where locals occasionally passed by. Even the sound of their footsteps echoing on the cobblestones seemed somehow musical.
After dropping off my luggage, I decided to take my first walk through the town center. It was evening, and while many shops had closed for the day, cafes and bars remained open. The sight of locals downing small glasses of espresso while standing was a quintessentially Italian slice of daily life.
I visited Santa Chiara Church in the town center, built in the 13th century in beautiful Pisan Romanesque style. Though the doors were already closed, the grandeur was fully apparent from the exterior alone. The stone facade featured intricate decorations, deeply carved shadows illuminated by the setting sun.
In the small square in front of the church, several elderly men sat on benches, conversing quietly. Whether they spoke Sardinian or Italian, I couldn’t understand the words, but their peaceful tone was comforting. One of them noticed me and gave a gentle nod. In that natural friendliness, I felt the warmth of this town’s people.
For dinner, I went to a small trattoria recommended by a local. The interior, surrounded by stone walls, was dimly lit with red checkered tablecloths covering the tables. The menu focused on Sardinian regional cuisine, particularly dishes featuring pecorino cheese.
As an appetizer, I was served sliced bottarga (dried fish roe), a Sardinian specialty. Its rich oceanic flavor paired beautifully with white wine. For the main course, I ordered “malloreddus,” handmade pasta shaped like small shells, served with saffron and sausage sauce. The aroma of saffron filled my mouth, evoking the blessings of Sardinian soil.
When I stepped outside after dinner, the town was completely enveloped in nighttime tranquility. Street lamps gently illuminated the cobblestones, and the white walls of buildings emerged in the moonlight. Distant mountain ranges drew silhouettes against the starry sky. Walking back to the hotel, gazing at the warm lights leaking from the windows of stone houses, I was already beginning to feel the unique charm of this small town.
Back in my room, I opened the window to enjoy the night breeze. The air was dry, carrying the scent of macchia plants. In the distance, church bells marked the hour. This sound, too, had likely told time to the town’s people in the same way for centuries. It was such a peaceful and welcoming night that I almost forgot I was in a foreign land.
Day 2: Tracing Mining Memories and Ocean Treasures
I woke to birdsong in the morning. Opening the window, the sun was already high, and the stone buildings were wrapped in bright light. The hotel breakfast was simple but delicious - local bread with pecorino cheese and rich caffè latte.
In the morning, I decided to visit the mining museum that tells the town’s history. Housed in a 19th-century building, this museum displays detailed exhibits on the mining history of the Iglesias region. Old mining tools, mineral samples, and photographs of miners from that era were on display. Particularly striking was a collection of photographs documenting the daily lives of people working in the mines. Despite harsh working conditions, the people’s faces showed dignity and pride.
A female curator at the museum explained the mining history in fluent English. “Mining in this region began in ancient Roman times. The 19th century marked its heyday, when minerals were supplied throughout Europe.” Listening to her story, I realized anew that this small town had actually been a historically important place.
In the afternoon, I drove toward the coast by rental car to visit “Porto Flavia,” about 30 minutes from Iglesias. This site was a mining port built in 1924, where minerals were loaded directly onto ships from facilities built into sheer cliffs. Though no longer in use, it’s preserved as industrial heritage.
What first struck me upon arrival was the contrast between white limestone cliffs and the deep blue sea. The cliffs rose about 50 meters high, with crystal-clear waters spreading below. The abandoned mining facilities stood like ancient ruins. The wind was strong, with sea breezes from the ocean caressing my cheeks.
I joined a guided tour to explore the facility’s interior. Remains of belt conveyors used to transport minerals and massive silos for loading ships were preserved. The guide was a local man whose grandfather had worked in these mines. “My grandfather often said the sunset from here was the most beautiful in the world,” he shared.
Indeed, the late afternoon scenery was breathtakingly beautiful. As the sun moved westward, the sea’s blue shifted from deep turquoise to purple. The rusted iron frames of the mining facilities, illuminated by the setting sun, created the melancholic beauty characteristic of industrial heritage.
Before dinner, I stopped at a small fishing village nearby. Colorful fishing boats were moored in the harbor, with fishermen tending to their nets. This scene represented timeless Mediterranean daily life. An old fisherman spoke to me in Sardinian, and though I couldn’t understand the words, his friendly smile and gestures clearly indicated he was describing the size of fish.
For dinner, I savored seafood at a small ristorante in this fishing village. Fresh sea urchin spaghetti, grilled local fish, and Vermentino, a white wine specialty of Sardinia. The rich flavor of sea urchin harmonized exquisitely with the wine’s refreshing quality.
When I stepped outside after the meal, the sky was already filled with stars. In this area without urban light pollution, even the Milky Way was clearly visible. Harbor lights reflected on the sea surface, creating a fantastical scene. On the drive back to Iglesias, I stopped the car several times to gaze up at the beautiful starry sky visible through the windows.
Returning to the hotel, the day’s fatigue settled into a pleasant sense of fulfillment throughout my body. This day made me realize that Iglesias was not merely a mining town, but a place with unique charm where sea and mountains, history and nature harmonized. It was a day that revealed the town’s distinctive appeal.
Day 3: Ancient Memories and Doors to the Present
On my final morning, I rose leisurely. Though my luggage was already packed, there was still time before checkout. Climbing to the hotel’s rooftop terrace, I could see all of Iglesias spread below. Red tile roofs stretched out with church bell towers standing among them. In the distance, the mountain ranges of former mining sites drew beautiful silhouettes in the morning sun.
In the morning, I decided to visit ancient ruins on the town’s outskirts. Called “Nuraghe Seruci,” these ruins date from around 1200 BC and represent typical structures of Sardinia’s unique Nuragic civilization. Located about 15 minutes by car on a hill surrounded by olive trees.
The nuraghe, a conical tower built by stacking stones, amazed me with its sophisticated construction technique. Built entirely of stone without any mortar or adhesive, it has stood without collapse for over 3,000 years. Inside, I found spiral staircases and small rooms where I could sense traces of ancient people’s lives.
Around the nuraghe, “giants’ tombs” - collective burial sites - also remain. These semicircular structures built with large standing stone slabs hint at ancient burial rituals. Though weathering has obscured details, their scale suggests the strong bonds of ancient communities.
On my way back to town after visiting the ruins, I stopped at a morning market in a small village. Local farmers had brought fresh vegetables and fruits, handmade cheeses and bread. An elderly woman selling Sardinian saffron let me smell the fragrance from a small bag. Its deep, complex aroma spoke of this island’s rich soil.
At the market, I could observe local people’s daily shopping routines. Everyone seemed to know each other, chatting about daily matters while selecting products. Though I couldn’t understand the language, the harmonious atmosphere was comforting. The sight of a young mother shopping with her small child was a heartwarming scene of daily life unchanged anywhere in the world.
For lunch, I had a light meal at a small pizzeria in the town center. Sardinian-style focaccia with local beer made for an enjoyable final meal of my journey. The focaccia was generously topped with rosemary and olive oil, simple yet deeply flavorful.
In the afternoon, I took one final walk around town. I noticed detailed decorations on buildings and small churches I hadn’t seen yesterday. Particularly impressive was a traditional pottery workshop where local artisans worked. The elderly shop owner showed me how he shaped vessels on a potter’s wheel. His skilled hands transformed clay into beautiful forms before my eyes.
In the back of the workshop, finished pieces were displayed. Patterns painted in Sardinia’s characteristic blue and white colors represented the sea and sky of the Mediterranean, he explained. I purchased a small plate as a travel memento. The old man explained in broken English, “This is made from Iglesias soil.” Holding this item that embodied memories of this land filled me with special emotion.
In the evening, before checking out of the hotel and heading to the airport, I stood once more in front of Santa Chiara Church. Though it was the same place as my first day’s arrival, this time the doors were open. Inside, I could see beautiful frescoes painted in the dim sanctuary. Before the altar, a local elderly woman prayed quietly alone. In her devout figure, I sensed the deep faith of this town’s people.
Leaving the church, I took one last look over the town. Stone buildings, narrow cobblestone streets, distant mountain ranges. Though my stay was only two nights and three days, this town had certainly carved out a special place in my heart. Mining history, mysteries of ancient civilization, Mediterranean nature, and above all, encounters with warm people. I would never forget the charm of Iglesias woven by all these elements.
In the car heading to Cagliari Airport, I occasionally gazed at the ceramic plate on the passenger seat. It was not merely a souvenir, but proof of time spent in the town of Iglesias. When this small plate is used someday in my daily life, surely memories of this journey will come flooding back.
Conclusion: A Journey That Felt Real Despite Being Imaginary
Sardinia, viewed from the airplane window, looked like a green jewel floating in the blue sea. As I left the island, I questioned whether the experiences of these three days had truly been real. The memory of my feet walking Iglesias’s cobblestones, the sensation of Porto Flavia’s sea breeze, the feeling of touching the cold stone walls of the nuraghe. All of these remained vivid.
In reality, this journey was a product of imagination. However, the essence of travel that etches itself in the human heart may not necessarily lie in physical movement. Rather, it might exist in contemplating a land’s history, culture, and people’s endeavors, and in extending thoughts toward the daily lives of those who live there.
The small town of Iglesias does indeed exist on the island of Sardinia. Mining history dating from ancient Roman times, medieval church architecture, mysterious ruins of Nuragic civilization, and the beautiful nature of the Mediterranean. All of these are real facts that remain part of the daily lives of people still living there today.
Even in imaginary travel, maintaining respect and interest in that land. Learning about the place’s history and culture, exercising imagination toward the lives of people living there. By doing so, imagination becomes not mere fantasy, but a means of deepening understanding and affection for that land.
Perhaps someday I will actually visit Iglesias. When that time comes, I hope the emotions and discoveries felt during this imaginary journey will enrich the real experience. Travel may not necessarily be about moving, but about the heart being moved. And thoughts toward this small town have certainly moved my heart and opened doors to new worlds.
