In the Goceano hills of north-central Sardinia, a low cliff of pale volcanic rock above the village of Anela hides one of the island's more striking prehistoric cemeteries. Sos Furrighesos is a cluster of domus de janas, the rock-cut tombs whose Sardinian name means houses of the fairies, carved into the face of the stone by Neolithic farmers some five thousand years ago. Some of the chambers are simple niches; others open into several rooms, and a few still carry carved reliefs of bull horns, a symbol you meet again and again in Sardinian prehistory.
The name the locals gave such places tells you how later generations explained them. People who found small doorways cut into rock imagined tiny women living inside, sometimes weaving with golden looms, sometimes stealing children. Archaeologists credit the work to the culture of Ozieri, named after the town just to the north, whose people were skilled potters and clearly had a great deal of patience with stone tools.
Getting here is half the pleasure. The Goceano is quiet, rolling country between the Tirso valley and the higher ground of the Marghine, with cork oaks, pasture walled in dry stone, and small towns that close their shutters in the early afternoon. The roads that link Bono, Anela, Bultei and Burgos are narrow, mostly well surfaced and properly twisty, with blind bends where a herd of sheep can appear without warning. Above Burgos the ruin of the medieval Castello del Goceano sits on a rocky spike and makes a fine detour, with views over the whole district.
There is not much in the way of facilities at the necropolis itself, so treat it as a quiet stop rather than an outing. Bono is the nearest town with a decent range of shops and bars and a little over three thousand people; for a more certain choice of fuel stations, Ozieri, about twelve kilometres away, is the town to aim for. Carry water in summer, when the hills bake and the light turns everything the colour of straw.
Spring is the season to choose. In April and May the Goceano is green, the roadside verges explode with flowers, and the temperatures suit a riding jacket. The autumn months are almost as good, and you will share the roads with farm vehicles rather than tourists. Either way, stand for a while in front of those little doorways and think about who carved them, and why.