Sardinia, the beach of Tuerredda and the courage of a shepherd

There is a sea of ​​dream colors: turquoise, emerald and white. A sea that returns to being itself in autumn. No more umbrellas, only the shepherds, the rocks, the white sand and the mistral blowing ever stronger remain. Another light, the autumn sea that tells of the strength of those who remain, that of Tuerredda, one of the most iconic beaches in Southern Sardinia. In summer it is one of the few beaches with a limited number of people on the island: to protect the ecosystem, access is limited to 1,100 people per day. But those who arrive here out of season experience a rare privilege, made of silence and wonder: the beach is all to themselves, and the sea returns to tell its most ancient truth.

This is where Riccardo Milani set it Life goes like this (the film released today by Medusa, which opened the Rome Film Festival 2025, with Virginia Raffaele, Aldo Baglio, Diego Abatantuono and Geppi Cucciari): the story of Ovidio Marras, the shepherd of Teulada who defends his “furriadroxiu” – the ancient rural settlement – from the concrete, becoming, in spite of himself, an icon of Sardinian environmentalism. A stubborn man, who refuses the millionaire offers of a Northern real estate group determined to build an “eco-sustainable” resort. His house “is priceless”.

Milani shows us a Sardinia far from the tourist imagination, different from the glossy one of brochures and social news. It gives us back an authentic island, which asks to be lived with respect. An invitation to reflect on another model of tourism, not the one that consumes, but the one that listens.

The real story is even harsher. In 2009, in the same area of ​​Tuerredda, the Sitas company, supported by important financial groups, built a huge tourist complex: 140 thousand cubic meters of concrete in the heart of the Mediterranean scrub. It was that pastor who opposed it. David against Goliath. When a private road was diverted to accommodate the construction site, he waged a legal battle that lasted years. He won in 2016, with the definitive blocking of the works. But he paid a very high price: the isolation and hostility of his country, where even a “Pro Sitas” committee was born in the name of the desired development. The community was divided between the dream of work and the defense of identity. Two visions that seem irreconcilable.

«Dividing a community is a winning strategy for exercising power – says director Riccardo Milani -. I believe that development can and must be created while respecting the territory, because those two visions, the dream of work and the defense of identity, should always find a balance. Despoiling and defacing the environment always diminishes its value. Ovid, with his simplicity and moral rigor, gives us a lesson in ethics and dignity: not everything can be bought, because people’s lives have no price. Today more than ever, in a globalized world where everything seems to be driven by profit, it is important to talk about roots, values ​​and a sense of belonging. The identity of places must be preserved: we must have the courage to say no.”

Behind that crescent of golden sand and crystal clear water, nestled between two promontories, time has stopped: chipped villas, window frames corroded by salt, foundations devoured by humidity. It is the ghost village of Malfatano, symbol of a model of blind tourist “development”, which has betrayed the territory and its people. «Behind that intervention – recalls Stefano Deliperi of the Legal Intervention Group – there was no idea of ​​sustainable development, but yet another attempt to transform a natural paradise into a real estate product of very poor taste. We opposed it from the beginning to prevent such a massacre from erasing one of the most precious stretches of the Sardinian coast.”

Ovidio Marras died last year, aged 86, in his seaside home. Not far away remain the carcasses of residences that were never finished and ended up at auction, awaiting a rebirth that does not come from concrete, but from memory, from a more aware tourism, which seeks the other and recognizes its true richness in the encounter. The future of Tuerredda starts again from here: from the courage of a man who loved that sea “because it belongs to everyone”. “Aitci lives well“… if we resign ourselves. But it shouldn’t go like this.