Off Course: Asylum Seeker Transfers from Trieste to Sardinia and the Hidden Borders of Italy’s Reception System

The journey of those travelling along the Balkan Route does not end when they enter Italy. After crossing forests, enduring pushbacks, violence at the borders, and nights spent sleeping rough, a second journey often begins—one that is less visible but no less painful: the journey through the Italian asylum and reception system. The report Off Course. Transfers, Isolation and Discontinuity in the Protection and Reception Path between Trieste and Sardinia, published in April 2026 by No Name Kitchen in collaboration with the Italian Consortium of Solidarity, reconstructs precisely this internal trajectory. It is not merely about deteriorating buildings or inadequate services; it is about people transferred hundreds of kilometres away, separated from the relationships they had built in Trieste and placed in remote facilities where waiting for a decision on their asylum application risks becoming a suspension of life itself.

The report opens with a particularly significant finding: according to monitoring conducted between February and September 2025, approximately 85% of the interregional transfers observed in Trieste were directed to Sardinia. The research is qualitative in nature and is based on daily monitoring carried out in Trieste, a subsequent field mission to Sardinia, ten individual interviews, five focus groups, direct observation, administrative documentation, and an analysis of the relevant legal framework. The authors themselves acknowledge certain methodological limitations: they were not always able to access the reception centres, the sample consists predominantly of young Afghan and Pakistani asylum seekers, and part of the information regarding the facilities derives from photographs, videos, and testimonies. These methodological caveats should also guide public discussion. The report does not constitute a judicial finding, nor does it automatically establish liability on the part of individual reception providers. Nevertheless, the recurrence of similar accounts across different facilities makes it difficult to dismiss them as isolated incidents.

The starting point is Trieste, a border city and one of the principal gateways along the Balkan Route. According to the report, access to the asylum procedure and reception system has been characterised by prolonged delays, an insufficient number of reception places, and lengthy periods during which asylum seekers were forced to remain homeless. Following the eviction of the Silos warehouse in June 2024, many people dispersed into abandoned buildings in Porto Vecchio, lacking water, heating, and sanitation, giving rise to what humanitarian organisations described as a "diffused Silos." According to figures cited in the report, in 2023 approximately 4,450 asylum seekers were unable to access reception immediately, while by August 2025 nearly 500 people remained without accommodation. These figures originate from civil society organisations working on the ground. For this very reason, public authorities should publish official, transparent, and disaggregated data to allow independent verification.

The right to seek asylum is not a discretionary concession granted by public authorities. In Italy, it is enshrined in Article 10(3) of the Constitution, as well as in European Union and international law. During the period examined, the asylum procedure was primarily governed by Legislative Decree No. 25/2008, while reception conditions were regulated by Legislative Decree No. 142/2015. The mere expression of an intention to seek international protection should trigger the asylum procedure and should not leave individuals trapped in a legal limbo without documentation, assistance, or information. Legislative Decree No. 142/2015 remains the principal domestic legal framework governing reception, supplemented by the Ministerial Decree of 4 March 2024 establishing operational standards for reception centres.

One of the report's most troubling findings concerns the manner in which transfers were allegedly communicated. Every Wednesday afternoon, lists would reportedly be posted inside reception centres in Trieste, while departures were scheduled for the following Thursday morning. The destination was often indicated only as "Sardinia," without specifying either the municipality or the reception facility. Some transfer orders examined by the researchers consisted of pre-printed forms, in certain cases even lacking the recipient's name. Although applicants theoretically had the possibility to submit written observations by email, the extremely short timeframe, the exclusive use of the Italian language, and the absence of legal assistance rendered this safeguard largely ineffective. At the same time, applicants were allegedly warned that refusing the transfer could result in the loss of reception benefits.

A transfer is not unlawful simply because it is unwelcome. Public authorities must retain the ability to redistribute asylum seekers where this is genuinely necessary to ensure the proper functioning of the reception system. However, administrative efficiency cannot erase individual circumstances. Physical or psychological vulnerabilities, ongoing medical treatment, family ties, social relationships, language courses, concrete employment opportunities, and integration pathways should all be assessed before any transfer takes place. The new EU Reception Conditions Directive (EU) 2024/1346 expressly reiterates that transfers between reception facilities should occur only where necessary. Administrative practices that appear largely automatic, based solely on numerical considerations and lacking genuine individual assessment, therefore raise serious concerns regarding proportionality, transparency, and respect for human dignity.

A common feature identified across many of the Sardinian facilities examined in the report is geographical isolation. Several centres are described as being located along rural roads, far from inhabited areas and poorly connected by public transport. In one documented case, the nearest village could only be reached after a one-hour-and-forty-five-minute walk, while accessing a larger town with essential services required more than two and a half hours on foot. Only one morning bus was reportedly available, with two return journeys early in the afternoon. A daily return ticket costing €6.20 would consume the entire monthly allowance of €75 in just twelve days. Geographic location is therefore not a minor logistical issue: it directly determines whether asylum seekers can realistically reach doctors, lawyers, schools, post offices, or workplaces.

The report also documents allegations concerning inadequate food quality and quantity, repetitive menus, expired products, bedbug infestations, irregular replacement of bedding and clothing, sporadic distribution of hygiene products, and cleaning duties assigned to residents without adequate supplies. In one facility, residents allegedly received only half a litre of drinking water per day, even during the summer months. In another, residents reportedly organised two hunger strikes. Some individuals described cooking secretly in abandoned buildings in order to supplement their meals, exposing themselves to disciplinary sanctions. These accounts undoubtedly require careful verification. Nonetheless, they concern obligations that lie at the heart of reception standards: adequate nutrition, hygiene, safety, and respect for cultural, religious, and health-related needs are not optional benefits but fundamental components of dignified reception conditions.

Access to healthcare appears equally affected by geographical isolation. The report describes reception facilities lacking regular medical services, delays of several months before registration with the National Health Service, an absence of cultural mediators, and frequent reliance on over-the-counter medication instead of proper medical assessment. In certain cases, ambulances reportedly struggled to locate remote reception centres, while requests for medical attention were allegedly filtered or minimised by management staff. Particularly alarming is the reported lack of psychological and transcultural psychiatric care, despite the fact that many residents have experienced war, torture, detention, repeated pushbacks, and other severe forms of trauma. The constitutional right to health under Article 32 of the Italian Constitution cannot depend on the availability of private transport or the goodwill of individual managers.

The report further highlights how inadequate information undermines the effective exercise of rights. Some asylum seekers reportedly waited months without understanding the status of their application, without completing the official registration procedure, or without receiving accurate documentation. Researchers documented cases involving incorrect tax identification numbers, interviews conducted without qualified interpreters, legal advisers available only once a month, and applicants unable to obtain information about the scheduling of their asylum interview. One particularly illustrative case concerns a young asylum seeker identified only as "B.", whose experience allegedly combined administrative errors, documentation delays, improvised translations through Google Translate, geographical isolation, and fear of immediate eviction following the recognition of refugee status. The right to information cannot be reduced to handing someone an incomprehensible document. Without qualified interpretation and effective legal assistance, the right of defence risks remaining purely theoretical.

One of the report's most sensitive sections concerns employment. Interviewees describe recruitment through lists posted inside reception centres, minibuses collecting workers before dawn, agricultural work lasting ten to twelve hours per day, cash payments of approximately €4–5 per hour, and widespread informal employment. They also report unpaid wages, immediate replacement of workers who complained, and situations in which only a few members of a work team received formal employment contracts. These accounts do not, by themselves, establish criminal liability. However, they describe indicators that warrant investigation under Article 603-bis of the Italian Criminal Code, which criminalises labour exploitation through the abuse of workers' conditions of vulnerability. Administrative insecurity, geographical isolation, lack of transport, and economic dependence together create an environment in which labour exploitation can flourish.

The reception centre in Monastir exemplifies another dimension of the problem. Formally operating as an Extraordinary Reception Centre (CAS), it reportedly also accommodates newly arrived migrants following disembarkation in Sardinia, thereby performing a hybrid function. The report describes overcrowded dormitories, rows of beds or mattresses, almost complete absence of privacy, and only six bathrooms serving approximately eighty residents. At the same time, a relatively small municipality finds itself managing significant numbers of asylum seekers without corresponding public investment or institutional support. Framing the issue as a conflict between local residents and migrants would therefore be misleading. According to the report, both groups ultimately bear the consequences of centralised decisions that are not accompanied by adequate planning, services, or integration measures.

As a Sardinian who now lives in Trieste, I believe one point deserves particular emphasis: the problem is not Sardinia itself. The island is not inherently a place of exclusion. It becomes one when its geographical isolation, internal distances, limited public transport, and depopulated rural areas are used to relocate hundreds of asylum seekers far from public scrutiny and essential services. Sardinian communities themselves become peripheral territories within a national reception strategy. Properly organised, community-based reception could instead represent an opportunity for integration, lawful employment, and social regeneration. Concentrating people in isolated facilities produces precisely the opposite outcome: dependence, exploitation, social conflict, and exclusion.

Perhaps the report's most significant conclusion is its suggestion that the combination of prolonged delays in Trieste and systematic transfers to remote reception centres may have functioned as a deterrent, discouraging people from pursuing asylum claims in Italy. This remains an interpretation advanced by the authors rather than a proven institutional policy. Nevertheless, it deserves serious attention. When administrative practices consistently result in homelessness, social dislocation, geographical isolation, and withdrawal from reception programmes, it is no longer sufficient to invoke administrative necessity. Article 97 of the Italian Constitution requires public administration to operate with efficiency, impartiality, and legality. This demands transparent criteria, publicly available data, independent oversight, genuine individual assessment, and clear accountability.

Since 12 June 2026, the legal framework has evolved further following the implementation of the EU Pact on Migration and Asylum, including Directive (EU) 2024/1346. Italy has begun implementing these reforms through Decree-Law No. 100 of 12 June 2026, which is currently undergoing parliamentary conversion. Yet the publication of Off Course remains highly relevant. Rather than becoming obsolete, it now serves as a benchmark against which the new legal framework should be assessed. Future reforms should not be judged solely by their legislative ambition but by their capacity to ensure that registration, reception, and transfers do not become mechanisms of administrative exclusion.

Ultimately, reception cannot simply mean assigning someone a bed. It must guarantee healthcare, legal information, mobility, education, lawful employment, and living conditions compatible with human dignity. It must enable people to build a future rather than repeatedly uprooting them. When asylum seekers are transferred as administrative numbers, without knowing where they are going and without any meaningful opportunity to have their personal circumstances considered, reception loses its protective function and instead becomes a system of invisibility. This is the internal border denounced by Off Course: a border that does not run through mountains or seas, but through the gap between the formal recognition of rights and their effective enjoyment.

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