‘I’m a Longevity Doctor, and Visiting This Island Changed My Perspective on What Longevity Means’

I’ve dedicated much of my career to studying the factors that help people live longer, healthier lives—I’m a medical doctor specializing in longevity science, an advisor for RoseBar Longevity Clinic in Spain, and a registered yoga teacher focused on how movement can be medicine. While researching my next book on longevity, I became fascinated by Sardinia, an island off the coast of mainland Italy, is home to one of the world’s Blue Zones, renowned for its high concentration of centenarians and remarkable life expectancy. I felt compelled to visit and see what longevity secrets Sardinia holds.

Longevity in Sardinia thrives in a few remote mountain villages. In these towns, locals live without many modern conveniences—no elevators, no take-out. Instead, frequent uphill walks and time-honored traditions make longevity a way of life set to the rhythm of their daily routines.

After a weeklong stay in Baunei, a quintessential example of a village in the Sardinian Blue Zone, my perspective on longevity—and what’s important for living a long life—shifted. Here’s what I learned, and what I hope to take with me into my daily practice.

The Sardinian formula: movement, meals, and community

Baunei is elegantly carved into the side of a mountain, goats roaming freely, with streets so narrow that driving anything wider than a Fiat Mini would be an exercise in futility. The first thing I noticed is that, despite the quiet pace of this mountain town, people stay in motion. Instead of lounging at cafés, locals stand at espresso bars or gather in public squares. Walking everywhere is their way of life. In Baunei, the daily 80-meter uphill climb (that’s nearly 25 stories) often felt like I was walking uphill both ways, and is a natural, unintentional workout that keeps the locals strong well into their 90s.

What struck me most about Baunei was the complete absence of take-out culture. In this village, food is never something to be rushed or grabbed on the go. Meals are sacred pauses in the day, moments where eating is about connecting—with each other, with tradition, with time itself. Sardinians don’t just eat; they gather, they linger, they talk.

The typical Sardinian diet is a testament to the principle of “mangiamo giusto” (“we eat right”) that, in Sardinia, means enjoying locally sourced foods. I found myself savoring each meal in a way I hadn’t in a long time, where every bite felt like a natural beat in the slow, steady rhythm of the day. Simple, nutrient-rich foods took center stage, with pecorino sardo and fiore sardo, two local sheep’s milk cheeses, anchoring the table. Packed with healthy fats, they keep the locals strong. It was a reminder that food can be both nourishing and deeply satisfying, playing an essential role in our vitality.

A highlight of the Sardinian diet’s primi portion are culurgiones, a pillowy pasta stuffed with potatoes, mint, and goat’s cheese. Simple, yet rich, it’s a dish that speaks to the island’s instinctive understanding of flavor without the need for showmanship.

Sardinians are also masters of bread-making, with pane carasau, their famous crispy flatbread, on every table. Originally crafted for shepherds, this durable bread was designed to last through long treks across the rugged terrain, providing essential energy as they tended their flocks. With each crunch of the savory, crispy layers, I imagined the countless hands that had shaped this humble staple over generations—a simple, enduring thread in the fabric of Sardinian life.

And of course, no Sardinian meal is complete without wine—cannonau, to be specific. This local grape boasts higher concentrations of antioxidants than most other wines thanks to the island’s unique climate and soil. By the second glass, I wasn’t just drinking the wine; I was embracing the Sardinian way, where indulgence and good health thrive in natural symbiosis. Meals often end with a sip of myrtle liqueur, an island specialty made from foraged berries. The power of Sardinia isn’t in what they add, but in what they let be.

Social glue of longevity

The U.S. Surgeon General recently released an advisory warning about the loneliness epidemic in America. But isolation is practically non-existent in Sardinia. In Baunei, everyone knows everyone else, and that creates an unspoken safety net for the community. Multi-generational households are common, and elderly relatives are woven into the daily fabric of life. The older generation effortlessly fits into social gatherings—not as spectators, but as active participants, often becoming the life of the party.

Friends and family gather for meals, festivals, or often just to be together. These deep, genuine connections create a bond that holds the community together, which might explain why the residents of these villages are so good at outliving the rest of us. Social ties don’t just foster happiness—they are essential for longevity.

Longevity secrets from the Sardinian mountains

When I left Sardinia, my legs were sore, but my heart was full. This island is more than just a beautiful destination; it is a living blueprint for how to thrive. The Sardinian way of life—constant movement, simple yet nourishing food, and a deeply connected community—carries a quiet wisdom that is easy to overlook at home.

On one of my last days in Baunei, something unexpected happened during my morning walk uphill to the town square. Like most travelers, I had been snapping photos at every turn, of the dramatic views, the sunlit cliffs, and the narrow cobblestone streets. But halfway up the hill, I realized that I’d left my phone behind. Instead of feeling the need to capture everything, I found myself simply enjoying it. The rhythmic hum of the town, the lively conversations in the square, and the feel of the path beneath my feet took over. It all felt more vivid. It was a reminder to slow down, to live in the moment instead of trying to save it for later.

At the top of the hill, I stopped to chat with Nicola, a vibrant older man I had befriended during my week in Baunei. We often crossed paths at the corner espresso shop, which was his homebase between errands. He greeted me with sunny enthusiasm and showed off photos of his grandchildren and goats—both of which he seemed to love with equal devotion.

We parted with beaming smiles, laughing as he playfully corrected my Italian, both of us embracing the moment of heart-warming connection.

If there’s one thing I took from my time in Sardinia, it’s that longevity isn’t just about living longer; it’s about being fully present in the life you have. Walk uphill every day, savor good food with those around you, and take time to connect with the world and nature. Sardinia’s hills may challenge your endurance, but the real lesson is learning to let go of the rush, put away distractions, and simply enjoy the journey.