Reviving Stintino

By Josie Anne Maltinsky Gaitens
Photos by Leeni Laasfeld

In the furthest northwest corner of the Italian island of Sardinia, sits the small village of Stintino. Founded in 1855 by just 45 families pushed from the neighbouring island Asinara, it has never boasted a large population. For most of Stintino’s history, the lives of its residents have been dominated by piscatorial activities, with one of the town’s local tuna processing stations being over 100 years old. As the years progressed the fishing process became more advanced, more productive, and more demanding. Decades of overfishing lead to an inevitable collapse in the bluefin tuna population—and subsequently the industry that relied on it.

This catastrophic loss of livelihood could have signalled the end for Stintino, but the village possesses a gem that turned the tide on its economic fortunes: La Pelosa. A beach of stunning beauty, it is situated at the very tip of the narrow peninsula that Stintino is located on. With the rising popularity of tourism from the beginning of the 20th century, Stintino found itself beginning to play host to well-to-do families from the larger Sardinian city of Sassari. This interest in Stintino’s natural beauty rose to a roaring torrent from the 1960s with the emergence of a mobile middle class with disposable income, and the improved accessibility of air travel. The tourism boom had officially arrived. 

Tourism: A Lifeline and a Challenge

But, like many of those remote and beautiful places that were ‘saved’ from the brink of economic collapse by the intervention of tourism, Stintino’s relationship with its itinerant population is far from simple. Today, the village’s stable population is around 1500 people. In the summer months, however, tens of thousands of visitors pass through its streets. The impact is striking and far reaching. Economically, Stintino’s income is almost entirely reliant on tourism. Environmentally, the constant wear of thousands of feet, towels, plastic shovels and deckchairs on La Pelosa has caused immense damage to the delicate white sand that covers the beach, degrading it to a critical degree. And of course, socially, there have been major consequences, with many young people seeing no future for themselves in a place that predominantly functions as a theme park for visiting holiday makers for one half of the year, and an empty ghost town for the other. 

Despite the host of challenges that Stintino’s small population faces, there are those on the ground who are determined to take action and build new opportunities for the community. One of these individuals is Fabrizio Contini, who founded the organisation ‘Absentia’. Their tagline is, “exploring the absence,”—crucially, Fabrizio and his associates do not seek to provide the answers alone. Instead, they work with the local community, as well as external collaborators, to investigate different ways of living and doing things in Stintino, through creative and innovative means.

Breathing Life Into the Off-Season

East of Moon joined Absentia in Stintino in early November 2024. With the tourist season long over, the town felt like it was entering into hibernation mode. A few restaurants remained open to serve the locals, as well as the iconic Bar Meloni—an inconspicuous looking establishment with tiled floors and walls and a long, fake marble bar. It seemed to serve as the extended living room for half of the village, and we quickly learned that if someone couldn’t be immediately located, Bar Meloni was the first place you should check.

Despite the quiet streets and shuttered b&bs, something was quite different about this November. Thanks to Fabrizio’s efforts, Absentia (and by extension, Stinino) was hosting a cast of international creative and remote workers as part of the pilot of ‘Pescatori Digitali’, a project aiming to “revitalise the local community and redefine sustainable tourism.” The upshot of this was that the tourist office, normally closed for the down season, was functioning as a hot-desking site. Two local houses, which would have otherwise likely have sat empty for the winter, were full to bursting with people from every corner of the globe. And Bar Meloni was packed with both locals and visitors every day, a myriad of languages and accents ringing out and echoing off the tiles.

Building a Community for the Future

From the privileged position of being invited to both participate in, and observe the results of, the project, one thing seems acutely obvious: the success of an intervention like this relies significantly on the relationship that the interventionist has with the community they are trying to support. Fabrizio grew up in Stintino, chose to make it his home when many other people his age preferred to seek out a life somewhere else, with bigger shops and schools and restaurants open year round. Fabrizio cannot walk 5 metres down the street without being stopped by someone who wants to talk to him. The trust and faith that the community is willing to invest into his ideas is clearly something he repays in full. While outside forces are welcome to come and invigorate and innovate, Absentia are key as the inciting agent. 

While the complex challenges of Stintino’s future will not be solved by one co-living project alone, the promise of projects like Pescatori Digitali lies in their potential to connect people and inspire change. In particular, individuals from other small, tourism-dependent communities are able to establish a meaningful dialogue through initiatives like these, allowing the exchange of information and ideas that can support development in not just Stintino or Sardinia, but many other locations around the world. There is so much to be gained. What is clear is that the gentle, intuitive integration of local knowledge and global collaboration can lead to sustainable solutions that honor Stintino’s heritage while preparing it for the future.