On the homepage of his website you can read: My name is Giuseppe Bertuccio D'Angelo, I'm 33 years old and as Albert Einstein once said: "I have no special talents, I am only passionately curious." A YouTuber with a passion for reportage, in 2019 he founded Progetto Happiness, a personal journey in search of happiness around the world that over the years has grown into something larger — "a home for extraordinary stories, told with the depth of a documentary and the warmth of an authentic conversation," as he explained to us.

Aboard an electric car, the Ford Explorer, we followed him to Sardinia, braving temperatures that nearly reached 46 degrees Celsius, into the Ogliastra — the heart of the Blue zones — to retrace the behind-the-scenes story of his latest documentary, built on encounters with people who have lived there for a hundred years. The stops? The ghost village of Gairo Vecchio, Ussassai with its limestone-dolomitic bastions, Seui, the village of music, Seulo, home to around 38 supercentenarians: stories of people and daily rituals, told in an essential and human way. That longevity we have written about many times, which in this central-eastern part of Sardinia wears the time-worn faces of those who, often, passed the century mark long ago.

Giuseppe, when you talk about your journey through Ogliastra you describe it as an experience that left a mark on you. For those who, like us, might want to follow in your footsteps, what would you recommend to truly connect with what makes this land so unique?
Sardinia is a rugged land. A land unlike any other, where the mistral sculpts the mountains, and the scent of juniper, helichrysum and myrtle accompany the passage of time. A millennial time, marked by legends and traditions preserved across the centuries. Seen from above, you can make out its distinctive shape, reminiscent of a footprint. An imprint left by Zeus who, after creating the world, decided to hurl into the middle of the sea the last pieces of granite, basalt and the most fragrant plants he had at his disposal. Travelling across it from north to south, you have the sensation of moving through different continents that, brought together, incredibly give life to an island where nature and time seem to slow down.

And in some ways, they really do. It is in Sardinia, in fact, and in Ogliastra in particular, that one of the five Blue zones in the world is found. This area holds the formula for longevity — a formula made up of simple food and genuine ingredients, unspoilt nature and a strong sense of community. Contained here is the secret behind an extraordinary number of centenarians, the subject of scientific studies and research for decades. We too, in our own small way, wanted to literally get behind the wheel for a research journey of our own.

You speak of this as an exploration rather than a journey. How did the idea for the reportage "The island of centenarians: in search of the secret formula of longevity" come about?
The idea (shared with Ford from its very inception, ed.) was to create an intimate reportage, made up of unfiltered conversations, unspoilt landscapes, and a journey of discovery through a land that is rugged, yet equally precious. A journey by electric car, to respect every corner of this ancient and proud island. Roads that climb mountains wrapped in silence, small villages where narrow lanes hold the chatter and confidences of their inhabitants, accompanying the daily life of a community that cannot conceive of existing without being just that. Contrasting scenery, landscapes of contrasts, wild and authentic nature.

We passed through the homes and the lives of extraordinary people, in the most literal sense of the word. Men and women who, on the threshold of a hundred years, have managed to find the fullest meaning of this incredible experience called life. How to live long enough not to fear the passing of time. I have spent the last six years of my life travelling the world. But then you find yourself on an unpaved track in the heart of the Supramonte ogliastrino. The scent of juniper drifts in through the car window and all around there is a silence so deep it almost makes a sound. It is here that you suddenly realise you don't need to travel so far to be amazed; it is here that you realise there are incredible stories even a stone's throw from home, or simply on the other side of the sea.

For those who don't yet know it, can you tell us what to expect from this lesser-known part of Sardinia?
Forget the crystal-clear sea, the golden beaches, the luxury resorts. There is a whole other Sardinia to discover — the rugged and proud one. A land that seems to have remained locked in time, a time that here seems to have stood still. A land where reaching a hundred years of age is the norm. A journey born from a very simple question: what is happiness? But don't think that I arrived in Sardinia with the presumption of finding a definitive answer. Rather, to add a fundamental, intimate and deeply personal piece to this search of mine. My journey heads straight for Ogliastra, a small corner of paradise — rugged and wild — that is home to one of only five Blue zones on the planet. I travel through this harsh and authentic land, moving along the roads of the Sardinian interior without profaning its millennial silence.

Can you tell us about your first stop in Sennori, where every year at Carnival the Gigantes are the stars of the grand parade of floats and traditional Sardinian masks?
Everything begins right in Sennori, where the Gigantes are one of the most fascinating and imposing representations on the island. Monumental figures, covered in heavy dark skins, advancing with rhythmic, measured steps to the heavy sound of the cowbells they carry. It feels like witnessing a primordial rite. But the true beauty lies in the human encounter hidden behind the mystery: once the masks are removed, the faces of very young men and women appear behind those colossi — proud to be the custodians of their own identity. An encounter that reminded me of just how deeply this land is tied to its roots and, at the same time, how incredibly generous it is in sharing them.

This journey wasn't meant to be a simple reportage in search of a magic formula for youth, was it?
What I tried to document by venturing into Ogliastra is an honest answer to a simple question: how does one reach a hundred years of age while keeping clarity of mind, a sense of humour, meaningful relationships, and above all, an infectious joy for life? I wanted to enter their homes, eat with their families, listen to their memories, and try to see the world through their eyes. Not to understand how to live longer, but to understand how to live long enough not to fear the passing of time. Surprising encounters, mountain roads, and deafening silences.

Tell us about the encounter in Baunei with the centenarian Maria Antonietta, a hundred years old "only on paper," as you described in your reportage.
The journey picks up again here, in Baunei: a small village perched on the edge of a mountainside that has all the air of a proud, silent place, unwilling to bend to the hurried pace of the modern world. With the Explorer loaded up, the descent begins towards the coast of Santa Maria Navarrese, as if walking on tiptoe. No noise — the electric motor accommodates the intimate silence of this place suspended between rock and sea. It is just a few kilometres of bends and hairpin turns along a road carved into stone, where the harshness of the Supramonte gradually gives way to the blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

I weave my way through the village's narrow streets, curious and eager to meet a century of history. Keeping it alive, with disarming wit and warmth, is Maria Antonietta. A hundred years old only on paper. Maria tells me about past loves, memories of the war, a hard and at times merciless existence that nonetheless never managed to extinguish her sharp sense of humour. There is no trace of self-pity or regret in her stories. What comes through instead is the profound value of simplicity and sacrifice, and the rare strength of someone who has made peace with her own past, holding on only to what truly matters. It is the wisdom of one who has walked a long way and understood that, to go far, you must know how to move with lightness.

Urzulei and the encounter with Battistina and Maria, one hundred and two years old each. On the subject of the recipe for a longer life…
Leaving the coast of Santa Maria Navarrese, we pushed on towards the most rugged heart of Ogliastra. The scent of sea salt now mingles with the wild fragrance of thyme, and in just under ten minutes I find myself suspended between sheer vertical rock faces and untamed, unspoilt nature. This is the road that leads me all the way to Urzulei. Here I meet two centenarian women, Battistina and Maria, one hundred and two years old each. Two hundred and four years of life between them.

The baggage they carry is immense, and over a century of life it is inevitable that some details end up getting lost along the way: places, dates, the faces of those who were only passing through. Certain things fade, but never the ones that matter. There are bonds that remain anchored forever, capable of leaving a void that time cannot fill. When I ask Maria what she misses most from her past, she answers without a moment's hesitation: "My parents." I find it incredible to think that at one hundred and two, the void left by a mother and a father is still there.

Giuseppe, one last question: what lesson about happiness has this journey through Ogliastra left you with?
Before setting off on this journey with Ford, I imagined that the secret to longevity in this Blue Zone was hidden in something extraordinary: a miraculous genetic make-up, a particular diet, a formula impossible to replicate. Instead, I found people who have built their lives around the simplest of things: authentic relationships and small daily rituals. None of them seem worried about the passing of time, nor obsessed with the idea of reaching a hundred: they are simply too busy feeling well to concern themselves with what comes next.

I came to understand that longevity is not a finish line to cross at all costs, but the natural consequence of a life lived with balance, curiosity, and those deep bonds that keep us anchored to the present. In a world that moves ever faster, this small corner of rough, wild paradise gave me back a truth that is anything but obvious: to truly go far, there is no need to speed up. You only need to know how to slow your pace and truly savour the road ahead.