Finally, speed cameras in Sardinia – I thought to myself once.

Robber barons and highwaymen – fortunately, these sinister characters are long gone. At most, they still exist as spectacle at medieval markets.  Or do they?  We wish.  The heirs of the robber barons are still up to no good on our roads. Everyone knows them, and some of us have even fallen victim to them. Recently, they have also been increasingly encountered in Sardinia. However, they do not have an easy time there, because Sardinians are reluctant to be ripped off and know how to defend themselves. As you will see, they do not shy away from unconventional methods. As you may have guessed, this concerns the excesses of traffic monitoring, namely speed cameras in Sardinia. Because it is right and important to bring speeders and hooligans to heel, speed controls have been in place for a few decades. We are familiar with this, and we all approve of it. (I can remember that in the early days, I greeted the installation of every speed camera with an appreciative ‘Finally, it's about time.’)

Info: Speed limits in Sardinia (as of 2022)

In Sardinia, the prescribed speed limit, unless otherwise indicated by traffic signs, is:

50 km/h within built-up areas
30 km/h in traffic-calmed zones
90 km/h on country roads and motorways

Exception: On the A131 motorway, you may drive up to 110 km/h in some sections.

Signs indicate upcoming speed checks. Violations are punishable by fines of at least £15 and up to £680, depending on the speed.

(Source for speed limits: https://www.bussgeldrechner.org/verkehrsregeln-italien.html)

Unfortunately, those days are over. There is hardly anything left to praise, because today the authorities are less and less concerned with increasing road safety; what they want to increase is their coffers. Speed cameras have degenerated into a financing system for cash-strapped local authorities. They are hardly ever placed at traffic hotspots anymore, but rather where they can be particularly successful in raking in money. As if ashamed of this approach, they are designed to be as inconspicuous as possible and installed in concealed locations.

As law-abiding citizens, we grumble about it, but we don't fight back. It's different in Italy. Here, citizens have enforced regulations. For example, it is illegal to carry out covert speed measurements. Camouflaged speed cameras, as we have here, are prohibited. Every checkpoint must be indicated to drivers in advance and its necessity justified. If this is not the case, poor traffic offenders have a good chance in court. However, the Sardinians are traditionally at loggerheads with the judiciary because history has taught them that judges are not their friends, but rather the friends of their enemies. Disputes are better settled without them. This is also the case here:

Are Sardinia's speed cameras becoming targets?

I wasn't surprised when I found one of these speed camera warnings on the motorway from Olbia to Nuoro in 2015. However, I was confused by the small sign underneath that said ‘media’. So this wasn't a speed camera, but rather a device for measuring average speed over a certain distance. ‘Unbelievable,’ I thought, ‘this method is still in the trial phase here, and they're already using it there. So now you have to keep your speed down to 90. What a pain!’ Shortly afterwards, there was the mast with the conspicuous camera on top, marking the start of the measurement zone. A few kilometres after the exit to San Teodoro, its counterpart followed. In the autumn of the following year, the system was still there, but something was wrong. The camera was missing from the top of the mast! Some angry citizen had destroyed it with a well-aimed shot from a shotgun. I wasn't surprised. Vigilante justice has a long tradition in Sardinia, and unwanted measuring stations are popular targets for angry hunters.

What makes this case remarkable is not the volley of gunfire. That just takes some getting used to for Central Europeans. When I asked my friends to tell me more about the background to the story, they recounted an outrageous tale that can best be described as a ‘provincial farce’. The protagonists of the farce were shrewd salesmen on the one hand and sedate civil servants on the other. The former had made the purchase of the new-fangled speed camera system appealing to the municipality of San Teodoro: their area control would bring the municipality millions in revenue every year without much effort. The company would install and operate the system for a small fee. All the municipality needed to do was set up an account for the millions it expected to receive. ‘Great,’ thought the municipal leaders, ‘money for doing nothing,’ but then they objected that their citizens might disapprove of the system.

Resourceful salespeople are never at a loss for words. With a mischievous smile, they presented a sketch showing the planned route of the area measurement on the map. No citizen of San Teodoro need worry, explained the clever representatives. The exit to San Teodoro was located between the two measuring points on the controlled stretch of road. Anyone wanting to go there or coming from there would have to turn off at this point. This meant that they would only be recorded at one of the two measuring points. But that would inevitably mean falling outside the measurement grid. Good for the citizens of San Teodoro, bad for everyone else When the son of one of the decision-makers was also promised a job, the deal was done. The facility was built and went into operation. The lira rolled in. Until the aforementioned shotgun put an end to the nightmare.

The dangerous life of speed cameras in Sardinia

The shot hit twice: after putting the system out of action, an investigation had to be launched against persons unknown. Although the perpetrator could not be identified, it came to light that San Teodoro had no right to install the system. Instead of the unknown shooter, the municipality was convicted: it was fined a hefty million pounds, a few heads rolled and all fines had to be repaid.

My Sardinian friends were particularly pleased that the driver also got his fine back. No one would betray him. He was a ‘bravo amico’ and had taught the highwaymen the only lesson they deserved. What's more, he had acted in everyone's best interests. Did I want to dispute that?

I still owe them an answer to this day. Sardinia's speed cameras are a case unto themselves.

With a Sardinian ‘Adiosu’, I bid you farewell for today.

Joachim Waßmann