Porto Cervo, Sardinia —

Ancient legend tells that way back in 1961, the Aga Kahn was aimlessly wandering the Mediterranean in his yacht and stumbled across the picture perfect bay of Porto Cervo. He liked it, he bought it, he built a luxury resort on it and the coastal culture of Sardinia would never be the same. Today, it seems that every perfectly sculpted cove boasts some form of “villagio” where people flock to while away the weeks of summer.

Porto Cervo would seem stunningly authentic if it were nestled between other Italian icons such as The Bellagio, The Venetian or Cesar’s Palace back in Las Vegas. The faux hacienda architecture doesn’t ring true to anything else we’ve seen on the island.

If you’re stuck on Sardinia and need to run out for some quick Prada, Gucci or Patek Philippe, Porto Cervo offers one stop shopping for you. Or, feel free to enjoy a 12 Euro Coke Light in the café in the “piazza”.

Now that Michael Jackson has passed and Bernie Madoff has retired, it’s hard to tell who this spooky place is actually meant for. Reinforcing this impression is the fact that on this beautiful, sun filled morning the “town” is desolate. Upscale shopkeepers loiter listlessly. Gleaming Mercedes taxis are stacked up and idle. No one is enjoying a 12 Euro Coke Light or even an espresso for that matter.

The only activity is the parade of a busload of Italian tourists, following their guide’s bright shiny flag through town as if they were listening to stories of Pompei. If I were an obscenely wealthy person, I’d be a bit miffed that someone let these yokels into my playground.

We miss Oliena.