Visiting Sardinia and skipping Gorropu Canyon is like going to Paris and avoiding the Eiffel Tower. This massive canyon, one of the largest and deepest in Europe, is a true natural wonder of Sardegna. So, when my friend Tomáš and I decided to tackle this magnificent geological marvel, we had no idea we were signing up for a battle—not just with the canyon, but with our limits (and, occasionally, with our common sense).
A Descent Framed by Giants
The adventure began at a plateau parking lot at the base of the Supramonte mountains. Here, tourists, adrenaline junkies, and even a few opportunistic goats gather—the latter ready to pounce on any forgotten snacks.
We did what any responsible hikers would: laced up our outdoor sneakers, stuffed our backpacks with water and sandwiches (just in case we were ambushed by hunger), and started down the trail.
The descent was flanked by ancient trees, primarily gnarled cork oaks and centuries-old olive trees. One of the oldest and most twisted caught Tomáš’s attention:
“Dude, this one must be at least a thousand years old. It looks older than my grandma.”
“And sturdier too,” I replied, earning myself a hearty dose of friendly insults.
Gorropu Canyon: Silence and Sky-High Walls
Gorropu Canyon is a place that takes your breath away. Its walls, towering up to 500 meters high, seem to scrape the sky, narrowing at points to reveal only a sliver of blue above. It’s as if the Earth itself decided to split open here. This awe-inspiring canyon, protected within the Supramonte Nature Park, is home to rare plants and animals, including mouflons and vultures.
As we descended into the canyon, we were struck by the eerie silence. No noise, just the occasional whisper of the wind and the echo of our footsteps. Even Tomáš, usually quick with his quips, was momentarily stunned into silence. But it didn’t last long. Staring at one of the canyon’s massive walls, he broke the quiet:
“If I had to climb that, I’d need not just a rope but also a mental therapist.”
“And maybe a helmet for your ego,” I added, earning another wave of mock outrage.
Boulders, Chains, and the Limits of Courage
The trail grew tougher as we ventured deeper. Giant boulders, scattered like a divine game of dice, demanded clambering and scrambling. At one particularly tricky section, Tomáš threw up his hands: “Wait, wait—this isn’t hiking anymore. This is the Olympics of rock jumping!”
But the real challenge was yet to come: a section of chains bolted into the rock face for those daring enough to go further. Up to this point, we’d fooled ourselves into thinking we were making solid progress. But standing before those chains, we knew we’d reached our limit.
A Smaragdine Pause
At a small emerald-green pool, we stopped to catch our breath. The water was so clear it invited us to jump in, but the chill quickly discouraged the idea. Instead, we perched on rocks and unpacked our sandwiches.
Tomáš wrestled with his plastic-wrapped sandwich for a solid minute before admitting defeat: “Gorropu didn’t break me, but this packaging has.”
After a well-earned break, we made the call not to go further. It wasn’t about weakness, as Tomáš pointed out: “We still have plenty of places back home to look heroic.”
And with that sage wisdom, we began our trek back.
Gorropu, Until Next Time
Gorropu Canyon left us awestruck with its raw beauty and towering majesty. Though we didn’t reach its deepest depths, we didn’t feel like we’d missed out. The adventure isn’t about crossing finish lines—it’s about the experiences along the way.
As we reached the car, Tomáš glanced back toward the canyon and said:
“Great canyon. But next time, we will crossing the chains.”
So, Gorropu Canyon, we’ll see you again someday. But first, we need to work on our technique—and maybe our confidence. 😊
