A few daredevils even dare to wear a swimsuit. But that's the exception. This time, Cagliari residents flock to Poetto Beach in search of the sun, the great absentee from the city sky for at least a month. Maybe two.

It's clear from the morning that Centomila Beach is the destination of dreams. Whichever route you take, there's a line. A queue. A wait. Cars line up under Ponte Vittorio. The same goes for those arriving from Amsicora. The same story for those arriving from the Asse Mediano.

For once, the traffic isn't the equal of the honking horns. The reason for the seaside ritual is almost a religious one after Harry and endless weeks of bad weather. Silence, therefore, is mandatory.

Anyone stopped in the street for a comment simply says, "Finally, our life at Poetto." Young men, women, and men. There are bare-chested runners, wild skaters, children unleashed in the sun, and even many strollers with parents under 40.

At Marina Piccola and Prima ferma, the main attack occurs: the parking lot, overrun by Senegalese, sniffing out a Sunday bargain, is full to the brim. The same goes for the Cavalluccio Marino area, home to the "caddozzoni." At Lido, the most damaged part of the coastline, the only hope is that shops are open.

The first packed weekend makes you think Poetto has been deserted all this time. But from the bars comes a different story: "Not like today, sure, but we never stopped working."

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