Torre Doria

You climb toward Casteldoria along the granite ridge of the monti di lu Casteddu. Ahead of you, the Coghinas valley opens wide, fertile, shaped by water and time. The Doria castle still dominates this borderland. Of the fortress remain stretches of wall, a chapel, a large cistern carved to collect water. But it is the tower that holds you. Twenty metres high, pentagonal in plan, built of massive granite blocks bound with mortar. The entrance opens on the north-eastern side. The openings are irregular. A broad window looks out over the valley from the first floor. Inside, you picture three wooden levels, a mezzanine, the rooftop walkway.

Around this tower, legends are not decoration. They are history itself. Tales passed down by word of mouth and gathered by Grazia Deledda in Racconti sardi in 1894. She writes of underground tunnels linking the castle to the chapel of San Giovanni di Viddacuia, on the opposite bank of the river. She tells of hidden rooms, an iron door, the Doria treasure. She speaks of the conca della moneta, where money was said to be minted, and of a golden bell made to ring by a stone thrown from above. Here, literature enters the rock. And never leaves it.