Supramonte Campsite and Restaurant

In the Heart of Barbagia: Off-roading, roast suckling pig and the songs of shepherds in the Supramonte forests.

When you leave the turquoise coastline behind and head inland, Sardinia sheds its holiday resort façade and reveals its true, untamed soul. The journey to Camping Ristorante Supramonte, tucked away in the dense, ancient forests near Orgosolo, is no ordinary drive. It’s a journey back in time to a place where nature still dictates the rhythm of the day, and hospitality tastes of meat roasted over an open fire and strong red wine. For our team of thirteen, hungry for authentic experiences, this was an absolute must-see on the trip.

Off-road through the Foresta di Montes and the limestone giants

The adventure began long before we took our seats at the table. To reach the heart of Supramonte, we hopped into off-road jeeps. The route took us through the Foresta di Montes – one of Europe’s last primeval oak forests. It is a mystical, sombre place where mighty, gnarled trees form a natural canopy, and the all-pervading silence was broken only by the roar of engines tackling the gravel-strewn wilderness.

The highlight of this off-road journey was the majestic Monte Novo San Giovanni. Rising to a height of 1,316 metres above sea level, this limestone monolith looked like a natural fortress with its vertical rock faces. A short trek to its flat summit made it all worthwhile – the 360-degree view of the entire Gennargentu range, the wild valleys and the distant bays was simply breathtaking. It was the perfect place to feel the majesty of the Sardinian mountains before we set off for our final culinary feast.

An oasis beneath the oak trees and a culinary indulgence

Don’t be misled by the word ‘camping’ in the name of our destination. This is not a campsite with neatly mown grass, but a rugged, rustic settlement blending into the mountain landscape, run by local shepherds. Massive wooden tables tucked away in the deep shade of ancient holm oaks, the scent of smoke from campfires wafting through the air, and a complete lack of haste. As we sat down at the long table with our large group of 13, we immediately became part of this big, boisterous and incredibly warm-hearted Italian family.

A feast with the shepherds is a ritual to be celebrated. Huge slabs of hard Pecorino cheese, homemade ricotta, thin and crispy Pane Carasau shepherd’s bread and local cured meats were quickly brought to the tables, and we washed it all down generously with deep ruby-coloured, full-bodied Cannonau wine, poured straight from bulbous jugs.

However, the absolute highlight of the meal, which everyone had been waiting for, was Porceddu – a Sardinian suckling pig roasted slowly over an open fire, resting on aromatic sprigs of myrtle. The meat was incredibly tender, and the crackling perfectly crisp. In keeping with tradition, we were also served boiled mutton (pecora bollita) with potatoes. The scent of wood-roasted meat combined with the crisp mountain air is pure culinary bliss. The feast was rounded off with homemade dolci, strong coffee and a glass of Mirto – a traditional berry liqueur – which brought the feast to a close.

The magic of Canto a tenore and circle dancing

As the tables slowly emptied and the wine continued to circulate in the glasses, a moment arrived that sent shivers down the spine. The shepherds paused their conversations, stood in a tight circle, placed their hands on one another’s shoulders and closed their eyes. Suddenly, the forest filled with deep, resonant, almost hypnotic sounds.

We heard the Canto a tenore – the traditional polyphonic singing of Sardinian shepherds. Four male voices intertwined, creating a raw, guttural harmony. It is said that these sounds are the echo of nature itself: the lowest voice mimics the lowing of a cow, the next the bleating of a sheep, and the rest the wind howling through the mountains. This singing is so unique that in 2008 it was inscribed on UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage. Hearing it live is a mystical experience that literally makes time stand still for a moment.

Immediately after this melancholic interlude, the atmosphere suddenly picked up pace. An accordion came into play, and the shepherds, beaming with broad smiles, invited us to join in the Su ballu tundu – a traditional Sardinian dance. There was no room for excuses here! All thirteen of us joined hands with our hosts, forming one huge circle. The steps seemed simple at first, but the tempo increased with every passing second. Dancing together, laughter, loud music and the blurring of language barriers – this was integration at its very best, after which we had to catch our breath.

Treasures from the larder

Before we bid farewell to this forest oasis, it was time for something for those seeking authentic flavours. The shepherds opened their pantries, giving us the chance to buy local, artisanal produce – no commercialism, no glossy labels, straight from the makers’ hands. We quickly stocked up on top-shelf goods:

1. Pecorino Sardo – hard, matured sheep’s-milk cheeses,
2. Homemade cured meats – air-dried, with an intense aroma,
3. Pane Carasau – packets of that irreplaceable, crispy bread,
4. Mirto – bottles of traditional liqueur, perfect for reminiscing once back home.

Leaving Camping Ristorante Supramonte with full bellies, our heads filled with incredible music and our rucksacks stuffed with mountain delicacies was the moment when we all agreed – it was absolutely one of the best days of the whole trip. We saw, heard and tasted Sardinia in its purest form!