Bonjour, Bonsoir and Bon journee

Oh my French is coming along! Well here I am back in France, have in fact been here since late July but have been busy working on my cottage inside and out before winter sets in. It is expected to be officially here tomorrow with snow expected bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh.
So here is a snippett of my renos before I get a chance to fully update this page. It is a work in progress that I hope to have it mostly finished by late December. Just so you remember what is was like before here are the original photos.

I started digging out my downstairs area (the cave) to increase my accommodation to 2. Adding a studio apartment for me to live in when I have upstairs rented or rent out both areas during the summer periods. It has always been called the green room before because as you can see it was green with moss and frogs (not French people) living there. My frog prince was still there until I kissed him and relocated him to the garden before works started. Sadly one day I saw there was a squashed one on the road out front but thankfully I noticed my Prince was still in the garden.

Quite an ordeal digging it out with my French hired help hitting the mains water pressure and flooding the area for three hours while I waited for the water board to arrive!

 Meanwhile I have had my "Handy Andy" build me a terrace and stone steps, install the drainage and guttering so my cave is no longer green!

 I have yet to upload some more recent photos of the progress, hopefully in the next day or so as well as some side trips I have had with friends to various places around France since I have been back. So I will update them too.
Bye for now
xxmaz

Rome.........all roads lead to Rome. And so does the train!

This is still in progress. Will update asap.

Life on the Amalfi Coast

(its a long read but a great adventure....amore Amalfi)

Sea blue umbrellas with blue and white striped chairs line the private beach with a backdrop of a tall castle the Hotel San Chemeno?? A replica at the top of the original historic hotel that collapsed, yet the lower fortress still remains. Less than 100m away is the villa owned by Sophia Loren and the ruins of Torre of Vetteca, a castle built “maybe 100 years ago” I am told by the gelataria owner who sits lazily outside his shop. One day must seem like the next as nothing much happens here except for the passing trade ciao ciaoing or stopping by for an ice cream. Its only 10.15am already got to be around 30+degrees, the small beach filling with day tripping sunlovers from the nearby hotels or Naples, just 45mins away. Hidden from the snaking road 150m above, its down about 300steps, a secluded beach, both private and some public areas. Families and couples soaking up the morning sun before it gets unbearably hot. I retreat to a small cave area in the shade, about 4ft high but plenty long enough to stretch out under the rock cavern amongst the white and grey pebbles, while Domenico goes off and ciao ciao’s his friends. It overlooks the tiny marina of bobbing blue and white fishing boats. An Italian gozza, a pristine timber varnished boat, one that you see in the movies of the 1950’s, floats elegantly outside the hotel begging for someone to drive it along the picturesque coastline. I can imagine Jacqueline Kennedy or Sophia Loren in their scarves and dark sunglasses sitting on the boat, champagne in hand. Unfortunately no celebrities here at the moment mostly overweight Italians on a summer vacation. I did spot someone on the Loren’s Villa castle though too far away to recognise who it was.

The village is Conca, the next village along from Amalfi and lower down the mountain from Furore. Jacqueline Kennedy also had a villa here but I wasn’t sure which one. This coastline, playground for the rich and famous, oozes with money and it costs here too. What may be 1 euro for water anywhere else is 1.50-2.00 euros, a coffee I’d been drinking for 1.30euros is 3.00 euros here......”its Amalfi” they say!

My host for the second day, Domenico had promised to bring me here yesterday. 56 years old he was born, and spent most of his younger years here until he was acclaimed as the top mechanic at the mechanical school then selected by Ferrari to work for them, has done ever since. He moved to New York around 25years ago and has been the head mechanic for Ferrari racing team, not the F1’s but the nascars, but now consults for them in the US. He is well respected in the area, everyone knows him as the “Ferrari man”, any wonder each day he wears a supplied Ferrari different coloured T shirt, almost his uniform, so he is recognised I think. He “deals” in tshirts it seems.

I’d met him the night before last when I went down to the local bar/cafe in the village of Furore. I’d gone to have a lemoncello, grab some cigarettes, then head to the pizzeria a few shops up. The owner of Bar Della Mare Tony, had introduced me. Domenico spoke quite good English with an American Italian slant to it. We sat out front on the terrace, he telling me about Furore and where he came from in New York. He was here for a month this time because it’s too hot in New York in summer. At first it was hard to decipher his accent, he hadn’t spoken that much English for some time as where he comes from is an Italian neighbourhood. My very own Vinnie Barberino (John Travolta). Most of the people originally came from here or from Naples, with cafe’s and clubs from the old country. He was the president of the Salerno Club because he was popular and “You godda know how to do it”, I chuckle to myself at his expressions. He had never been married “too busy widda Ferarri racing team .... you know wad I mean?” 35 years and too many countries a year to name, he is pensioned off by Ferrari for the rest of his life. He managed the mechanics at each race circuit, arriving 3 weeks before to organise the accommodation, race garage and receive all the requirements for the race. He had to test the car before the race “to make sure its okay....you cant take a chance on raceday!” he said.

Yesterday we arranged to meet at 9.00am and he would show me around the area. First he took me to a cafe for coffee, standing on one of the ramparts overlooking the Med. Then we were off to the Grotto della Smereldo, a blue grotto which he claimed “you aint seen nothin’ like it before in the world”. Now I have got to get you in the picture with him....He is about 5’4”, older looking than his 56years, small in stature, impeccably dressed in black pants, shined leather shoes and sporting the mandatory Ferrari emblem T shirt. He has a typical Italian New Yorker accent, with all the classic “tv sitcom” lines to boot. “Yu never gonna see it anywhere else”, “Am I right or am I wrong”, “Yu godda do what yu tink is right”, I could go on forever, he makes me chuckle to myself every time I hear one of them. Yes, a real life Vinnie Barbarino type, without the looks of John Travolta of course.

So we park the car and make our way over to a Ceramica shop across the way. Again a perfect gentleman, he woiuld walk around and open my door. “Yu godda treat a woman with respect” he said. Walking straight through, no time to stop and look at the wares for sale and up to the main counter where a well dressed man is greeted with the usual kissy kissy, ciao ciao. It’s obvious he is the proprietor, a warm greeting, a few words exchanged and we are escorted across the road again to the steps leading to an elevator to take us down the 100m shaft to the grotto. The man, I learn later, is the mayor of Conca and caretaker of Grotto Smereldo. Its entrance is guarded by two t-shirted men with bum bags collecting the 5euro entrance fee from the many tourists lined up to visit the grotto. They greet Domenico with respect and all I can understand is “Ferrari” every now and then throughout the conversation. “We pay nothing” Domenico informs me with a wry smile and a wink then we are led privately into the left elevator, not crammed into the right with the other “tourists”. He tells me, gesturing to the guard “He has been told to look after us...guests of the mayor” and I start to feel like a VIP. We walk from the elevator down the stone steps leading to the inlet of water ahead and the grotto to the left, still escorted by one of the guards. We approach the entrance, I am still not sure what is I am about to see, then a few steps below, inside the dark cave we are greeted with a blue lake with 3 small boats bobbing alongside the tiny wharf. A good looking young man with movie star looks and a cheeky smile, beckons us to sit at the front in his perfect English. He is to be our guide and skipper on the small boat. He leads us in and we sit just below him as he jokes about “skippy the kangaroo”, while he leaves the “tourists” to find their own way to the back of the boat. “We don’t gonna pay” says Domenico with that ‘I’m the man’ smile again.

I have got to know he is well respected and we don’t pay for anything along the way over the past two days. Not sure why and I insist that I at least pay for the coffees, lunch or the cold drinks but in his Italian American accent he says “You no pay, I pay, this is my country and de woman no pay. Am I right? ” I chuckle to myself again often when he says these typical American Italian sayings. He lives in Yonkers NY, an Italian middle class area where it’s like going back in time and you would be forgiven if you thought you were actually in Italy.

Along the way Domenico is driving my rental car, no way was I going to drive this busy winding road that snakes its way around the coast practically vertically. Passing buses, with the need to pullover or back up or more often off the road completely. Those drivers are incredible how they manoeuvre the huge bus along this route. Now I know why Italians make good racing car drivers. He promised to take it slowly, afterall it was a rental. At each of my gasps around the tight bends he’d say “You scare? Doan worry ‘bout nothing, you godda do it. I been here a thousand times, this is my town”.

We stopped a little further along the coast at Furore beach, at least 300 steps down into a deep canyon with a small beach between the rocky cliffs. In winter, a river bed from the mountains high above. A small restaurant is shaped into the crevice with a terrace and offers lunches, ice creams and soft drinks. It’s preparing for a buffet lunch, we have coffees, Domenico says “we no eat here, you wanna eat here? We go to my “cousins” in Praiano”. I make my way into the water of the beautiful beach, its hot at around 10.30am. The water is cool and aquamarine with the white pebbled rocks below. Deep from around 3m from the shore, I swim to hang onto the cliffs on each side. Its magic, the view, the boats entering to peer inside the inlet. An hour or so later we make our way back up the stairs to the roadway, and drive the 4kms further onto Praiano.

It’s another inlet with a semi private beach, lined with a lido of umbrellas and sun lounges, again restaurants circling the small bay. Making our way down we are stopped by people greeting Domenico again, the usual ciao ciao, kissy kissy.

I say I’m going for a swim, it’s so hot. He tells me where he will be and when I am ready to come over for lunch. I swim and enjoy the sun on the beach, then doze off in the warm sun.

I gather my things and wander over to the restaurant where Domenico is already seated at a table inside beside the windows overlooking the beach lido. Wide folded back windows and white table clothed tables all set for lunch with probably about 3 tables full.

OMG now I do feel like a VIP. No menu as the cousin Alfonso snr and Domenico discuss what appears to be our lunch. “No garlic or chilli” is mentioned and I am asked do I eat fish? “yes no problem”, I answer not knowing what it is going to be....Who cares?

An orangey bitter ice filled glass appears before us, fresh water and a carafe of wine with floating peaches. A few minutes later a bruscetta placed on a plate as a starter, I am told. I am not sure what beverage to drink first so I juggle between the aperitif and the water, saving the wine for the main meal. Moments later Alfonso jnr, the owner, around 28years old who was left the restaurant by his grandfather to continue it on as it has been since the 1930’s, served us a gastronomic delight! A round plate of steamed mussels, with a mountain of cockles, with a centre of 3 upright bright red shrimps. Two juicy local lemons, to be used as a seasoning, “If ya wanna do it”. I couldn’t bear not to photograph the presentation, the ambience, with a picture window looking thru to the blue umbrellas and the Mediterranean in the background. It was a coffee table book picture I’d so often seen and wondered if it was staged or not ... and in this case not. It was delightful, too beautiful to eat and destroy the picture perfect meal. “Eat! Eat!” I am commanded by Domenico, and so I did, all of it till I was bursting! Taking it slowly, every morsel delicately steamed open and flavoured with home grown olive oil and parsley. “Everything fresh, yu donna get anywhere else. Am I right?” Domenico’s sentences blending together like one long word. “The mussels and cockles captured off the rocks closeby, the shrimps in the bay this morning. “Yu don’t gonna get this anywhere else in the world” he reiterated to me at least 3 times.

We talked all through the lunch, mostly about his Ferrari stories, interesting stories of his clients in the US. One of a woman who owned a Ferrari who he’d often been to consult and analyse what was wrong with her car, if it was not working properly. She’d died and in her will her lawyers had written in that she was to be put to rest in the Ferrari! Two seats to be removed and her coffin laid inside then the car to be placed in the concrete tryste in the chosen cemetery. “Too much money” Domenico would say as he retold some of the stories to me.

The wine drenched with peaches floated in my glass as I sipped slowly, not trying to embarrass myself after all it was only 2.00pm! I was already bursting when our “main course”, arrived. A plate of tortellini with locally caught calamari, tomatoes drizzled with parsley and quality olive oil from the family olive grove. OMG where was I going to put it? I’m already so full to the point of feeling ill. I courteously try to stuff down as much as possible, washing it down with the peach wine. I’m bursting and before long another course of swordfish arrives. I am ready for a siesta to sleep off the food and wine. I return to my cave to sleep it off for an hour or two.

Its almost 5pm and Domenico returns from his socialising with his cousin to announce “Lets go” and I am ready...I’m hot, sweaty and so full I can hardly move, but looking forward to my hotel for an afternoon snooze and shower. No way can I eat another thing for days, not even a coffee and I have to prepare for my ‘date’ with Tony from the bar......Oh no Pizza? How can I eat again! What will I do?

I sleep it off for an hour or two......I’m still full from lunch so I’m not up to eating pizza with Tony. I drove down to the bar, where he is all dressed up ready for the ‘date’. I apologise that I am feeling too ill for tonight and could we make it tomorrow night? He is a bit annoyed but says “Ok”. I retreat to the hotel and a bowl of cornflakes and a cup of tea and slept till morning. I have arranged with Domenico for “A better day than today” promised.

Another day, another guided tour, another “cousin”? We arranged to meet at 8.15am, we were going to Conca by bus via Amalfi. Its expensive to park in Amalfi, sometimes 35 euros for the day. The bus stops out front of the Hotel Bacco and much easier to get around. Its a 30 minute ride that costs 1.10euros, even I don’t pay for that, Domenico has pre-bought the tickets. “I know the right price” he winks as we ride along the narrow road, dodging other buses and scooters, snaking its way, overlooking the bluest of seas with a sheer drop below, to the coastal popular town of Amalfi. Beautiful Amalfi with its lively centro square. A water fountain and the basilica church surrounded by cafes and restaurants already busy at 9.00am with holiday makers sipping on their morning short blacks. Domenico hasn’t contacted his friend, not a cousin, that he is definitely coming today so he needs to telephone ahead to arrange a pick up in a boat. These private beach lido’s have taxi boats to collect the patrons from Amalfi and Positano and the hotels that line the coast to bring them to the restaurants, probably why they are so expensive to eat! Unfortunately the restaurateur isn’t answering so we decide to catch another bus to the location only a few kms away in Conca. A 15 minute ride after a quick coffee at an Amalfi cafe and we are there. We get off at the Hotel Belvedere ready for the walk down the narrow stone stairs to the village 150m below. Its a tiny village built into the rockface with 3or 4 tall granite and white washed villas, with blue shutters and a tiny basilica church. Now this is the beach of the rich and famous, Sophie Lorens villa 100ms away, other prestigious villas on each side, I couldn’t afford even the chlorine for their pools on an annual salary!

So here we are as I said at the start of this blog, at the foot of the Hotel San Chemeno? An elegant beachside restaurant with two or three other smaller cafe style restaurants, still with outrageous prices, on a private beach, a small area dedicated to the public, with clear blue water below a rocky gorge up to the coast road above. Another lido sits on a platform built on one of the rocks where you need a small boat to take you out to, waiters delivering your lunch or drinks by boat.....only on the Amalfi coast!

I headed for the beach as Domenico chats with some of his old friends. About an hour later Domenico calls out to me to come over and we are greeted by Franco and his two beautiful daughters, Philomena and Marianna, along with his wife, sorry I cant remember her name. They are all beautifully tanned with perfect teeth, welcoming hosts. He needed to catch up so I again headed back to my towel and the glistening Mediterranean sea. I swim and tan, swim and tan, its hard to stay out of the water for much longer than 15mins as you dry quickly and the sun starts to burn so its time to return to the water. While swimming in the shallows I watch amused as 3 young boys probably 8-10years old, definitely future construction magnates, carry heavy rocks from the shore on their surfboard to about 15mtrs into the water. It appears they are building a mountain of rocks, as if there aren’t enough on this coastline, it keeps them busy transporting them, dumping them. One dives down into the deeper than them water to strategically placing the new load one at a time on an already 3ft high pile. He is the ‘engineer’ of the future, another is the ‘Grollo’ supervising the build, the other already heading to shore for the next shipment. Perhaps they will be the next ‘Grollo’ and I wonder if this is how he started as a young boy on the Italian coast?

I hadn’t seen my host for over an hour, “yu know where I am if ya need me. Yu come when you want something. Ok?” he’d said. I retreated again to my towel for a doze before lunch with only the babble of children laughing and playing, or the occasional tap, tap, tap and hammering of yet another blue beach umbrella into the sand and rocky earth filling the beach’s rocky amphitheatre. Tanned bikini clad girls, tanned muscle bulging Italian 20 something Italian males chatting in groups, it was very distracting but I managed to doze for who knows how long?

It must have been at least an hour later when a girl is hovering over to me, “Signora, mangierie”...lunch is ready! I awake with squinty eyes wondering if it was me she was talking to. It was beautiful Marianna, she guided me through the maze of tanning bodies to La Ristorante Latonella where Domenico was again waiting for me. It was around 1.30 by now, his usual lunchtime. We were seated by Franco at “the best table” again overlooking the beach with perfectly set out tables, surrounded by huge pots of bougainvilleas. Again our hostess Philomena, discusses with Domenico our menu. Again he stresses no garlic or chilli. Strangely I haven’t had any problems in Italy or Sicily with my garlic allergy. “I am a small eater” I say, “Just pocco per favour”. “Ok” she replies and heads off to the kitchen inside. Marianna returns moments later with water and a carafe of white wine. Franco struts over and a few obviously terse words and the carafe is snapped away. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of “Ferrari Champagne”! OMG I cant drink that at lunchtime, but I’ll try to! It was beautiful...obviously expensive...I’ll google that later I thought as we toasted to the day and my chance meeting with Domenico. The rich velvety flavour showed it must have been a quality drop ....hiccup!
I sit there almost pinching myself at how wonderful the past two days have been with my own private guide, Domenico, “the man” ... how does this happen to me? I am so grateful for his time I mention two or three times and he answers “hey I got plenty of time for nothin” with that cheeky grin.

Marianna delivers our appetiser, a platter of delicate thinly sliced poached salmon, halved sardines drenched in lemon, tarragon and olive oil and tiny rings of calamari the size of a 10c piece. It was delectable and even now my mouth waters at the very thought of it! I have never tasted such delicious seafood. Next we are served a plate of pasta and tuna and tomato ragu. Little do I know this is an entree, as a tuna steak and green salad appear a short time later. I struggle through it, how could I leave any ... it was delicious! I had seen Franco help carry a large, like 1m long fish from the boat while I was basking in the sun, I wondered if that was it. “Yu cant get fresh fish like this anywhere else” Domenico says...again! By now I have basically topped up my omega 3’s from the day before and wondering if I am growing fins with all this seafood, starting to feel like a bloated beached whale. Was it me that wanted to be a mermaid when I was a child? Not anymore! I need some beef ..... not today though!

The champagne is perfect with the lunch, too perfect perhaps because I am now ready for another snooze. Its time for me to sleep it off, I am never gonna make a good VIP ......its gonna take some practice to eat and party on without my snooze!

Its warm in the sun and I am awoken by the revving of yet another boat and a lather of sweat as I am now out of the shade and like a red prawn on a barbie here on the beach. I venture into the water for the last time before I head to find my host. I’ve been dozing for about an hour. Domenico is still sitting at the table and had been chatting with his friends but was now ready to head back. We thank our hosts and they award me a memory tshirt of their restaurant. Grazie. Domenico said to our hosts, Franco and family that we were ready for the boat ride back to Amalfi so we are guided to the small wharf where a bronzed hunk with no shirt and pants, one leg rolled up to his knees, the other down takes my hand and sits me down in the gozze. Oh where is my scarf, yes bought one along, cant do the Amalfi without a scarf!

We manoeuvre between the many luxury cruisers and small fishing boats, 6 other passengers on board and drop some of them off at the Hotel Belvedere wharf about 200mts away. Turn and make our way to Amalfi, the spray for the boat refreshing me with the water. We cruise past Sophia Lorens Villa and I get a chance for some more photos, just for my dad. She has a cable car to take her down to her wharf I note as we cruise past. Its a 15min boat trip along the coast past the ‘beautiful peoples’ private villas with their own beaches and luxury boats parked on the way to Amalfi’s marina. What a wonderful day I thought as we rode the boat back to Furore. Domenico got off at his stop down in the village and I about 2kms higher up at my hotel. I had ‘the date’ with Tony, OMG pizza, what a comedown from lunch but I was still going.

My ‘date’ with Tony was uneventful apart from heading up the mountain to Leonardos in San Lorenzzo, a small village about 15kms away. I was tired and not very hungry, he was boring, hard to communicate with, spent most of the time checking his mobile phone and I didn’t care that it was over in a very long two hours. C’est la vie! I didn’t want to cancel again.

I told Domenico I was going into Amalfi in the morning and wanted to go by myself to just wander around. To be honest I felt awful for not paying for anything and didn’t want to wear out my welcome. He was disappointed but I arranged to meet him around 3pm at Priano again for coffee.

It was Saturday I wanted to enjoy the Hotel Bacco’s buffet breakfast and I needed to organise my flight to Paris from Rome and a hotel near Rome. I spent the morning on the net after a well earned rest and sleep in. It was overcast and cool, a relief from my past 6 weeks of heat and 38degrees. Around 2pm I thought I would start making my way down to Praiano, it was only 7kms away according to the hotel owner and the bus would be coming in around 20mins. I bought my ticket and made my way upstairs towards the bus stop. It was so pleasant walking I thought I might start off down the numerous stairs to the next level of road down and meet with the bus along the way. The old stone stairs, hardly used by the way they looked, snaked their way vertically down amongst the terraced villas and lemon groves. I reached the next road level in no time, still no sign of the bus, so I walked some more. Another set of stairs, down again, purple bougainvilleas and lemon trees contrast against the white washed villas and the blue Mediterranean backdrop 500mtrs below. Again the road, I estimate I have descended about 150m from the hotel that sits 650mts above sea level. So I keep going looking out for the bus as I go, ready to hail it down, as the locals do. Hmmm, no steps and its a sheer cliff face below from this level, so I must walk along the road close to the stone wall as each car or motorbike passes. Still no bus?? Its not too hot and I have water, so I keep walking. A few toots and strange looks, I hadn’t actually seen anyone walking this way in the past few days either, I thought! Its too hot and its steep...they probably think I am crazy! A kilometre later a Mercedes passenger van stops and pulls over. A sweet looking driver, I later find out is Salvatore offers to give me a lift, “Im going to Praiano” I say, he’s going to Tovere, sort of on my way but offers to drive me to the Monastery in Conca. Great its not far from there and I’m already late for the meeting with Domenico, I have been walking for over an hour. He drops me off after we chatted all the way. He has a tour guide and transfers company, Naples to the Amalfi etc. Really lovely and we swap cards to keep in touch. “Who knows maybe I will return someday as I leave tomorrow”, I let him know. Ciao Salvatore and thanks for the lift. So sweet, charming and very good looking...Cest la vie!

He dropped me off and I knew the bus came along here, when I didn’t know it was a different bus line towards Positano. I knew the area, well sort of, the steps lead down to the next road alongside the monastery and I could see the Med just down there...and down there....must be close to Praiano soon? I walk again for probably another kilometre, gotta be around the next bend, surely. Then a sign, Praiano 4kms!! OMG it cant be I have been walking for an hour and a half!

So I keep walking, hoping for the bus to come any minute. I could have got another lift but I thought it was just around the next bend. As I got closer I walked past the coffee shop we had been to, the Smereldo Grotto and Ceramica shop, the Loren Villa below and the others, enjoying the view, the cool breeze, the ability to photograph the coastline, but not the walking too much, all the time ready to jump on the bus. I didn’t think it was this far when we drove! The bends just kept coming then wouldn’t you know it ... about 100mtrs from my destination, 2 and a half hours later, first the bus goes by then Domenico passes me in a blue car, heading down into the carpark. He didn’t recognise me, I was wearing a cap I had ‘picked up’ along the way to shield me from the sun.

I finally got there 2 hours and 40 minutes later! Domenico had been looking for me for an hour. “Whaddayadoingtome. I tink somethink is wrong wif yu. Alohra hav you eaten?” “No”. I could hardly talk all I wanted was a swim and sleep on the beach. “My journey had taken me so long I just had to sit down. The bus didn’t come. I’ll see you on the beach” I said as he parked the car. I made my way to the beach, swam and lay down to sleep exhausted for about an hour.

I awoke and went to look for Domenico as I had expected him to come over to the beach to find me. I noticed the car was still there and asked his friends where he was. He was looking for me they said. I found him and we had a coffee and cake, by now far too late for him to swim as he had promised he would that day...its Saturday! He had to get back so we left and he drove me back to the hotel. I thanked him so much for all the fun I had over the past 2 days or so and how grateful I was for his time. He seemed disappointed that I was leaving the next day but graciously gave me a Ferrari Tshirt as a memory of him, red of course! Grazie Domenico, you have been a wonderful host and I would never have had the opportunity to see everything you showed me around ‘your town’, ‘your Amalfi Coast’.

Amalfi..........Bellisimo

La Cote d’ Amalfi

I know its French but I am not sure what it is in Italian so that will do for the moment. Words cannot explain how beautiful the view from my hotel room balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. I am at the Hotel Bacco in Furore, on the Amalfi Coast, halfway between Positano and Amalfi. At 350euros for 5 days it was one of the cheapest I could find on the internet along this coast that may have a view or glimpse at least of the sea in the distance. I wasn’t expecting much, though the internet photos showed some great shots. Mine was the cheapest single room possible and I expected a garden view at that price, but when Domenico led me up the to the second floor, opened the shutters and doors onto the balcony it took my breath away. Here I am perched on the side of a steep mountain, in a picturesque village with a sheer 100m drop to the village and the sea.

A million dollar view, If I lay on my bed and look straight out all I can see is the Mediterranean with multi million dollar yachts, private charters and ferries sailing by. I cant wait for the sunset......it should be spectacular.

I was so hot and tired, restless from another 5 hours of driving through tunnels, highways and snaking roads through the mountains. I haven’t stopped for any tourist locations since I left Sicily, I guess I am either “temple and ruin”-ed out for the moment and probably a little disappointed with Southern Italy after the beautiful, interesting Sicily. As I drive I play Andrea Borchelli up loud on the car CD, which echoes through the tunnels so perfectly acoustic.......its brilliant.

The landscape is beautiful, such a change from Sicily with its fertile soil, green mountains and valleys, lush rainforests I was not expecting as I drove through to the coast yesterday. I have crisscrossed the laces of Italy’s boot, up the southern coast. Going from coast to A3 autostrade, out of necessity than preference. I tried to stick to the coast road as much as possible but time and very basic roads at times forced me to “highway it” for 80+kms yesterday. I went off, according to my basic map to go through the mountains but when I got to a small village and the signs ran out, as usual, I asked a local which way was the road to the coast......Gasp! they were shocked that I would want to go that way, “the road was too narrow”, “it takes too long”, “it maybe fallen away in parts””You must go on the autostrada....Mama Mia!”. No matter how hard I tried, stopping 3 different people along the way, I just couldn’t convince any of them to let me go that way. Finally one man I asked from the electrical company, insisted on me following him to the right way, he was on his way home to the very town I needed to go through. Little did I know it was at least 30kms away. So I followed then he waved me goodbye when he directed me to turn right here for the coast. Grazie........they are so friendly and helpful in Italy.

The road trip through the mountains was beautiful, so similar to the Dandenong Ranges around Melbourne, but steeper, much steeper, swap the gums for the tall pines and oaks I think they are. The terracotta roofed villas dotted between the valleys and the Basilica’s with their bell towers in each small village on the way, beware of snow signs, its a blanket of snow in the winter. It was the first rain I had seen since I got to Italy, a storm was brewing and the lightening strikes were incredible in the distance.

Finally through the many tunnels of rocks to get to the coast, I am blinded by the sunshine and the spectacular coast below. I am headed towards Scalea without any accommodation booked for the night. Previously in Sicily, there were always hotels and affitasi signs everywhere so I thought I would chance it. Not in any of the beachside “resort towns”, so much like Rosebud and Rye in the summer with their camping sites and beach lidos lining the coast. The main streets crammed with icecream eating vacationers, beach chairs in one hand, toddlers and blow up dolphins in the other. No I wanted something quiet, typically seaside Italian, a B&B with a pool.

I stopped at a place called Marina di Maratea, it was beautiful. I have no idea when I am driving, using my basic map as a guide, I just venture off the main road and explore any little village that looks sort of interesting as I drive through. Generally those with a port are from the old settlements and its those I choose to stop at. Marina di Maratea was one of those ports, a steep narrow winding road down to the port itself with multi million dollar cruisers you see all the movie stars on, parked in the Marina. A semi circle village and its pastel coloured terraced villas hanging precariously off the mountainside, numerous cafes and restaurants with their potted bougainvilleas’ and striped awnings circling the piazzas. Idyllic location, but no hotels or B&B’s in the village. The smiling waitress with good English informs me of one just up the mountain that does have vacancies for the night. She had just checked for two other guys a few minutes before. B&B Liano, set amongst beautiful gardens with a refreshing swimming pool and another beautiful view of the Mediterranean was perfect at 50euros a night. I was hot, tired and in great need of a swim and shower after my 300km trip from Coccorino the night before. I had a fungi pasta and lemoncello aperitif before hunting for the B&B.

Coccorino was a stopover village with not a lot to offer apart from the rocky seaside I had a chance to visit for a short time with the hotel owner. Going beyond his call of duty he had ridden his motorbike in front of me to direct me to a “special place” he knew. We were to swim in this multi coloured private rocky beach, but in for just a second and stung by the tiny medusa’s (small purple jellyfish” I was out of the water again quick smart. It was a beautiful spot, a circular pool of quartz rocks, pity about the jellyfish so I returned to the comfort of the hotel pool. Camello was a great host, bringing me complimentary wine and fruits from his orange and lemon tree. I had a relaxed night, no dinner, just the Arrancina rice ball I had purchased on the ferry, it was enough.

So here I am day 3 of my Italian Road trip, the Amalfi Coast....stunning. I am settled here for 5 days and will make use of the local bus to Amalfi and ferry to the Isle of Capri. I will head to Pompeii and Mt Vesuvius one of the days for my bit of historical culture but generally indulge in the coastal lifestyle. So far on my trip here I was kind of lost, so I stopped for milk and a cafe freddo (iced coffee) at the Furore Della Mia bar. So friendly was the proprietor Antony, well spoken in English, very popular it seems as other people dropped in while I was there, introducing themselves to me as they entered the bar. I know I am going to like it here already. Its slightly off the beaten track for “motto tourismo” many tourists, so they are still warm and welcoming. I will get to know it here a lot more over the next five days.

Ooooh 6 canon shots blast out 200m below to the sea, disturbing the cicadas’ and the local dogs begin howling, then the church bells tolls 6pm, so its aperitif time........gotta love it ........... life on the Amalfi.........bellisimo!

Till soon,

Ciao xxMarilyn

Back to Roccanere

I ended up in Salemi, and then after 5 days and a change of plans I decided to rehire the car for another 2 weeks and drive via the coast to Rome, taking my time and spending some time in the Amalfi Coast and go to Pompeii.

I thought I would stop by Danilo’s for a night on my way to the ferry crossing at Messina. I couldn’t drive almost past and not the extra 20kms without saying hello to his family I had grown to love so much almost three weeks before. It was my birthday on Saturday, today in fact, and Danilo’s just a few days before so I thought it would be good to stop over for one night. On my arrival I was greeted with surprise by his aunt, grandmother who I have since learnt is Josephine, and Clara, Danilo’s mother. They had only been told by Danilo a half hour before my arrival that I was coming so hurriedly prepared my room. Such beautiful Sicilian hospitality it didn’t bother them that he hadn’t informed them until now. So typical of Danilo, he is very casual. I was slightly embarrassed but they said don’t worry.

Danilo was gone, he had a diploma party to go to in Catania. I had arranged to be there earlier and go along as well but the trip was long and slow along the highway from Palermo. Full of tunnels, for some 80kms. Some as long as 3kms, without illumination, it required intensive concentration driving through them. At times you would become mesmerised by the continuous yellow reflective signs on the side of the tunnel walls. It was hot, perhaps 38-40 degrees in the sun but the relief of the cool tunnels was enough to keep the windows down, the CD up high and the sounds of Simply Red echoing through the tunnels was incredible. I chose to drive in the early afternoon, as I have learnt the roads aren’t so busy while the Sicilians enjoy their siesta time. I feel a lot safer and at times I would be the only car on the massive highway for km after km. It was probably one of the most picturesque and interesting drives I have ever done. A highway lined with pink and white Oleanders, Canadian vines, olive and citrus groves with a backdrop of the aquamarine Mediterranean Sea to the left and enormous rocky mountains to the right. Breathtaking at times, I wish I could have stopped to photograph the beautiful landscape. At one point I was in awe of a village 100m above one tunnel, its pastel coloured terraced houses and quaint Byzantine churches clinging to the rocky outcrop, it seemed as though it was waiting to be gently nudged over the side. It was just a glimpse between two tunnels so I didn’t have the opportunity to photograph this incredible architectural accomplishment.

Driving through Sicily has given me a new appreciation of all the Italian concreters and engineers we have in Australia. It is a labyrinth of concrete structures, soaring bridges with spans 100mts above the natural earth below, snaking their way between mountains and valleys. Incredible.

After my arrival, Antonella, Danilo’s aunt, Mama and I sat and chatted about my trip over the past two and a half weeks, following the map I had. We sat drinking some Baileys Antonella had made from the recipe my mother had sent me on the internet...delicious. She offered to take me to the Bingo again with her friends, Cossimo, Mima, Maria and Giacomo, later that evening, so after a dinner of green beans and pasta soup with Clara and Franco I headed downstairs to freshen up and head out with Antonella. We spent another night in Messina at the Bingo Hall, unfortunately not at all lucky this time so we arrived back around midnight, I was really tired from my journey that day so fell asleep in moments.

It must have been about 2 hours later that I heard Danilo come back from the party and enter the house. I am on the ground floor where the entry to the house is, so people usually come and go from the door in my small two roomed apartment. Its split by an old wardrobe and a cane three sided divider, little privacy but it’s perfectly fine. They are not intrusive people and usually pass through without notice.

Danilo whispered “Maree-lyn? H-are you awake?” His voice is gentle and has a melodic tone about it every time he speaks. So sweetly Sicilian. His English is good, even with his extra “h’s” on some of his words, like “h-are you?, “h-age”, “h-afternoon”, “h-aunt”, “h-angry”, “h-oats”, “h-owl”. From a small village, a good looking young man who has travelled quite a lot and has spent a lot of time with English speaking people, some time in Finland and France, in fact he says, he doesn’t fit into Sicilian life anymore and he invites travellers to come and stay to “keep his piece of mind”. His English is soft spoken with a beautiful Italian accent. Standing at the end of my bed, he asks again “hey Maree-lyn , h-are you sleeping?” “H-Are you ti-red?”. Well I was, but now I am not, I wanted to say but I was glad to hear that beautiful melodic voice again. “I have bought you a pistaccio and chocolate croissant, do you want to h-eat it?”

Ha, so funny I chuckle to myself. “Well no but I will in the morning. How are you? I have missed you.”

“Yes me too” he politely replied and sat at the end of my bed. I said “by the way, happy birthday”. His reply of “t-hankyou” reminded me of how sweet he was.

He went to bed and I ate some of my pistaccio and chocolate croissant he had bought for me.

Next morning I woke early to grab some cornflakes and earl grey tea, before long I knew Danilo would be coming downstairs and announcing our usual pilgrimage to Maria’s bar for “coff-ee”. And he did, but not until after 10am. He was “ti-red” after his rare late night out. He doesn’t socialise around here very much. Many of his old friends have moved away for university or to Rome and Northern Italy as most of the early 20’s to late 30’s do in these small villages of Sicily. He had studied engineering but it seems he dropped out a few years ago, “not free enough and I want to be free. One day I will t-hink about what I want to do. But now I want to be free to travel and learn about the world”. His brother Maximillian, Max as he is called, is a perpetual student and at the age of 32 is still at University, living on the handouts from his parents. It seems they are not alone in this life in Sicily, they all do that.

We finally have the coffee and head to the country house up the hill. Antonella is already there and I feel guilty that its almost midday before I can come and help to earn my keep. I offer to clean the pool as I had done it before, but she insists that we swim first, prepare lunch, eat, rest and we will clean the pool when its cooler in the afternoon. So we do. Danilo doesn’t swim but just plunges in and out of the pool. Then retreats to the sunlounge for a while before he goes off fidgeting and pottering again. We eat lunch, delicious hamburgers with melted cheese, sort of broiled in oil and water and baked under aluminium foil on top of the stove, some salad and bread of course. Antonella and I have wine, Danilo beer, but only 1 small bottle. He doesn’t drink much at all and often waters it down. Mama has water, as usual. Antonella had planned to go to Castelmoro, a small hilltop village above Taormina that night with her work colleagues and asked would I like to join them. I was thrilled to visit the town so talked about with its bar of phallic symbols, known around the world...but not to me. We were to leave around 7.45pm to be there for dinner at 8.30pm.

A few hours respite from the sun and dressing up for a night out was something I looked forward to. We drove to Taormina and met with Josephine (Phina) standing along side the road at a prearranged spot. Maria and Nino were there as well, but on a scooter, leading the way up the narrow road and saved a parking spot for us closest to the village centro. We parked and walked only a few hundred metres to the village square with its terrace overlooking the valley some 500mts below and further to the sea in the distance. Another hilltop village from 400+BC, another breathtaking view with Mt Etna in the distance, narrow oneway streets and skinny terraced houses cramped along the hillside. I wonder at the work that would have been involved all those centuries before us to build and maintain these villages. How lucky was I that Antonella and her work colleagues were all local tour guides. Some with English, Dutch and Spanish languages to their resume. I had no shortage of historical information given to me as waited for the rest of the dinner party to arrive. As we walked through the village, it was just turning dark, no lights at all. All the shops were operating on battery power, candles or nothing but still open to any passing tourists that still remained in the village. It was a blackout apparently, had been for just on half an hour before we got there. Such a shame for the village which totally relies on tourism. It’s difficult enough with a crisis and the lack of tourists in comparison with previous summers, let alone a blackout scaring off what few tourists were there that evening. We walked along and down the narrowest of streets to a pizza restaurant prebooked by Phina.

Two very well rounded men and apparently quite famous, so they say, greeted us at the steps up into the narrow alfresco dining area. It was on a slight incline so all the chairs are lined up along but slightly leaning downhill, as were the tables. Very quaint. In darkness we could barely make our way to find a chair, let alone read the menu. As every good tour guide is prepared, Nicola, one of Antonella colleagues had a torch in her handbag and each of us were given the opportunity to use it to decide what to eat. The menu was limited of course due to the lack of electricity, claimed one of our two fat hosts. Mine was again limited by my allergy to garlic. Spaghetti Salmone was perfect for me, Antonella and Maria joined me in the same. The others ordered various pastas, and side salads. Bottles of natural or sparkling water and local white wines flooded the table. Our hosts found some candles for our tables, but left the “tourists” sitting in the dark negotiating their way through their meals. I asked why they didn’t supply candles for all? Hmmm maybe because they didn’t ask for them?

Soon we were also given some complimentary bruscietta, deliciously tasty Sicilian tomatoes and onion on toasted bread as the “tour guide” stories seem to flow, of course in Italian with Antonella occasionally translating the gist of the stories. It was great fun. I liked these peoples company and listening to them all talk was interesting and a great way to familiarise myself with the accents. Domenica, was from German/Italian parents and spoke a little English she claimed, Maria spoke quite good English and her husband Nino none, but had a cheerful disposition and smiled a lot. Nicola and her husband, who I think was Guiseppe, none at all. They have one of the many gelataria’s in Taormina. We had met up with them the few weeks before on our night out there. Phina, very good English, so I wasn’t forgotten during conversations, though I did insist they didn’t need to translate everything to me, I was happy to just listen and learn.

Not long before we were to leave and we had finished our meal, voila! the lights came on and showed us that we were the only ones left in the now empty restaurant. However, people started coming out of the woodwork to eat, it was near on 10.30pm but they do that in Sicily, eat late.

The others all had work the next day so we ciao, ciaoed them off in the usual manner before Antonella and I headed into the main square, now lit up like a fairy tale village towards the “Phallic bar”, called “T something?” There it was so tastefully decorated, if you could call it that, all done out in “phallic symbols”, a sign of fertility Antonella explains as we climb up the narrow staircases to the second level overlooking the church and quaint central square now filled with tables of late night diners. Its still hot so we head for a balcony table to observe the interior of the restaurant/bar. Even the curtain holders! Haha...pity its too dark for my camera, ....true, I am always sorry its not a good night camera picture taker! A lemoncello for me and a ghastly medicine like nightcap for Antonella and we tiredly make our way back to the car and home for bed. Its been another interesting visit to another place in Sicily.

Antonella and I head out early to buy a pool umbrella from the “Umbrella Shop” in Santa Theresa some 6kms away. She had seen them there earlier that week. On our way we travel down the narrow main street where it is “certainly taking your life in your own hands” territory. A Sicilian standoff occurs at one narrow intersection where there are at least 10 cars, us included, locked up where no one can go anywhere for at least 5 mins. Its jammed, One car cannot move because another has blocked his way, thus backing up the traffic behind us for almost 100mts. The side roads both blocked with cars zig zagged, begging for position entering the main road. Cars in front of us too wide to squeeze past those on the left. Hahaha.......all TOOOTING their horns loudly and most of the drivers shouting abuse at each other. People are stopped on the street to watch, shopkeepers standing out front their stores, signalling to the passing trade who was at fault but no one prepared to direct the cars into some sort of order. It was hilarious! I couldn’t believe it...........only in Sicily! Or perhaps Italy in general would this happen? Eventually we were on our way again. Too hot to stay outside for too long by 11.00am we were back at the country house for a swim in the pool. Danilo had joined us and after lunch we retreated to the coolness of the village house for a sleep, then an icecream of course.

Danilo and I were going to “The Godfather” town, not too far away for dinner that night so we rested up and didn’t eat too much in the afternoon. Its Savoca, where they filmed the Godfather movies, I and II representing Corleone, which is near Palermo. Its another hilltop village, beautifully positioned above Taormina with a narrow winding road. I was to drive in my rental for the first time in this area. I had driven all over Sicily but for some reason, this area is crazy drivers, narrow one or two way streets you have to pull over to pass another car so I was nervous driving. Luckily Danilo is very patient and not a lead foot, so he was comforting and encouraging in my driving skills up to the top. We parked and found a beautiful pizzeria set amongst the treetops like a tree house. Not yet part of the centro township but beautiful all the same. We selected a seafood menu of cozze gratinee, mussels with a breadcrumb cheese topping baked in the oven as a starter, then calamari and a mixed fish platter with scampi and swordfish, more calamari, a mixed salad, bottle of white local wine, not so good, and bottled water. It was all pretty delicious but the mussels were to die for and I will be looking out for those again on a menu sometime. Totalled 37.50 euros, just under $50 for the lot.....amazing! We ate and then headed into the village where the movie was shot all those years ago. The restaurant/bar Bar Vitelli, an attractive building called Palazzo Trimarchi with a balcony and bedecked with plants, featured in the opening scene of Francis Ford Coppolas famous film “The Godfather” I believe is still exactly the same. People standing out front, cameras poised for that memorable photo of their visit there. Danilo and I walked up the hill to the Castello taking in the breathtaking view to the Mediterranean, I chose an abandoned house that I would buy if I won lotto. It was derelict but had a vine covered terrace that looked down onto the village, towards the Castello and out to the sea in the distance. Money probably couldn’t buy it.........but one could dream! Sadly it was too dark for the photos!

It was still hot and around midnight so we headed back to the country house. His brother had called and said he was heading up there to have a swim. Danilo claimed “its almost your birthday and we should do something crazy like this for your birthday?” Why not? We stopped off at the village house and grabbed our swim suits, change of clothes and towels and headed up there. The house was still dark but illuminated the whole hill as we turned on the lights of the pool area. Danilo and I couldn’t resist the coolness of the pool, it was still about 25degrees, its midnight and the pool thermometer read 27degrees........voila! My son BJ called on my mobile with birthday wishes a few minutes after midnight, my phone out of credits cuts out before I have time to really thank him. Now this is a great start to my birthday. A little after that fireworks go off as we can see in the distance from Santa Theresa and the fiesta that filled the streets with market stalls earlier in the night. Soon a chill fills the air around me as I am cold from the wet clothes I am wearing, so I am keen to head back down to the village house for a warm shower and sleep. Its been a long hot day. Im loving it!

Today is my birthday and I have rested most of the day. I went down to the little bar and Maria greeted me with “il Compleanno” meaning happy birthday and insisted my morning Cafe Freddo was on the house for my birthday. Almost everyone I have met today has wished me happy birthday with the kissy kissy each side of the cheek. Word travels fast and I’m sure Danilo is passing it around, he is so sweet. Tomorrow I am leaving and heading off to Calabria along the coast on my way to Rome.

It’s Sunday and we finished off my birthday last night with a trip with Danilo’s cousin to “The Twin” pub in some town, forgotton the name, close to Taormina. It was a lively place in a town filled with young and not so young party goers. Heaps of late night revellers, mobile vendors that you can sit at your table and buy almost anything I am sure as they come up and sell anything from roses to childrens toys, watches and illuminated lamps. That’s the funny thing about Sicily, perhaps Europe, I have been in some remote village and all of a sudden a street vendor comes along or truck laden with goods from fish or water melons, to folding chairs and sofas bellows out from his truck about his daily specials he has on board.

It was a great night, we had dinner earlier with a friend of his, Abel, now a resident of Sicily, but originally from Columbia, a lovely funny man, but unfortunately a Sagittarian, so we were doomed from the start, we all laughed about that. Danilo, and his cousin and I are all Cancerians....we don’t do Sagittarians well we agreed!

My attempt to leave early was forgotten when my lovely Sicilian family encouraged me to stay for a last lunch and swim in the pool. It was just midday and already the temperature had soared to in the late 30’s. The ferry from Messina runs every 40mins and my two hour trip to the Hotel in Coccorino wasn’t too hard to do from off the main highway. My last meal was just as delicious as the first and all in between. Clara so thoughtful as always of my allergy to garlic and chilli, directed me to the peppers cooked without garlic to one side. Green peppers sautéed in home made olive oil till just tender, sautéed spinach, tomato and onion salad drizzled with home grown grape vinegar and olive oil, a frittata of onions, egg and grated cheese. Fresh bread and watermelon as usual to finish. I am certainly going to miss her cooking.

I stood on the terrace overlooking Roccalumere for possibly the last time ever and looked out to sea about 2kms away in the distance and saw a yacht sailing by in the choppy waters. I thought how appropriate as I reflected on my past 5 weeks in Sicily. How lucky I was to be “dumped” on this gem of an island, the diamante buckle on the end of the boot of Italy. How amazing that it was my destiny to see, learn and love Sicily so much. The people, the landscape, the history, the food, the wine and the language I have absorbed in such a short time. How fortunate that I got the opportunity to experience all I have here, and to think I could have just sailed on by not getting the chance. It has taught me we all need to get off the boat, out of our cars and houses we live in, jump off that horse and walk around at a slower pace a bit more often.

So it was sad farewells and thanks to Antonella for her lovely birthday gift, a pendant necklace, to Mama, a loving hug as usual, to Clara and Franco for their hospitality and of course Danilo, my kindred spirit.

As I boarded the Messina to Calabria ferry I bid a fond farewell to Sicily. It really has been as unexpected surprise of an island. I knew nothing about it, rarely discussed on travel shows or in conversations, except with its association with the mafia. By the way I didn’t see or hear anything on the mafia goings on except in jest. I have read pages of books, Midnight in Sicily by Peter Robb, visited the Godfather town and even lived mot less than 20kms from one of the biggest “hits” in mafia history, the judge Giovanni Falcone near Palermo, but I haven’t met one “Don”. Suspicions of some but nothing ‘concrete’, pardon the pun!

So Grazie Sicily, Grazie Danilo and the many people and families I have met along my journey, you all have a special place in my heart.

Ciao and ci vediamo dopo

xxxMarilyn

Salemi (to be posted soon)

I will post this in a day or two.

Caltabellota a mystical city

A hot day of around 38-40 degrees the Meteo (weather) man said on the Italian tv in my apartment, so I decided to leave my day of touring till after 5.30pm. I had seen a hill top city in the distance on my way here and wanted to visit wherever it was. I Googled the area map and discovered it was Caltabellota an historical village just 20kms away. I studied the web site for information before heading off.

The hill climb from Sciacca has taken almost an hour but is worth every minute of the snaking road and bends. It was a hair-raising experience driving up this road. I pull over at the first opportunity to photograph this hill top village with terracotta rooftops of the sun bleached houses and bell towers around the mountain peak. The village stands around 800m above sea level. Originally the village was surrounded by a forest of helms and oaks, now a rich vegetation of almond, citrus and of course olive trees and vineyards.

Nearing the Centro I see a cafe/bar “La Prefienta” and decide to park the car rather than negotiate the narrow one way streets. A large group of young men are gathered on the terrace for a refreshing drink in the late afternoon. I need a cool drink too, its 6.30pm and still around 30degrees, though slightly cooler up here than in Sciacca some 20kms away.

As I walk further into the Centro I sight the tourist information board and read:

“Caltabellotta appeals to the visitor like a small jewel set in a natural precious frame, rocks and mount” its very true, a perfect description.

The village is a hotch potch of very new, new, shabby and ancient terrace houses, many with blue and white shades draped across the iron railings as protection from the burning sun. They sit proudly amongst the rocky outcrops, some even built into the rocks to be used as shelter from the heat and cold. One car has used the cave of a rock as a sort of carport!

Left of the verge of the “Pizzo Castello”, (Castle Mount) stands a little Episcopalean the “Pieta church” small in stature compared to the large rock beside it overhanging the village. I walk further into the Centro to the Church of St Maria di Monte Camelo the focal point of the main Piazza Umberto. Cobbled streets (though I believe these are not original) with terraced villas surrounding the piazza. People talk, children circle the village square on bikes or scooters, the men play cards while the day is about to end. Many of them are sitting outside the various clubs and cafes that encircle the area, sharing the days news and drinking coffees or nothing at all. Not a woman in sight except for me, they must be all at home preparing their evening meal ... poor things!

The Circolo Democratico, appears to be a club of some sort, to the right of the square proudly showing its crest. Things must be tight in the club because floors 2&3 have an Affitasi sign (room for rent) stuck to the iron balcony railings above. A small gathering of 4-5 older gentlemen sit on the chairs out front. The Cultura Club, next to the Municipio, is obviously more popular with 10 middle aged men all lined up sitting in shiny new chrome chairs along the wall and in the doorways, observing me and all the passing cars. Its funny to watch as all heads turn to the right then follow the car to the left down the one way street. Comical from a distance. Another cafe alongside the church is livelier with umbrellas, music and plenty of laughter.

Its a relaxed village, where it appears time has stopped. I find out later from a local resident that generally the village is mostly aged people and young families that once the children leave senior school they flee to either Palermo, Rome or Northern Italy for university, work and pleasure. There is little employment in the local area. Also apparently the government have compensated the residents of these old ancient cities with no taxes, rates or payments to keep the old cities inhabited and not turned into ghost towns. People spend most of their hot summer days in the shade of a tree, or in front of their houses in groups chatting and woman doing embroidery. I stop for a while to observe the goings on then continue on through the narrow streets, steep stairs and rocky mountain track to the top of the rock. I wish someone would come along and guide me through the sights as there isn’t a map or information booklet available at the shops, so I am straggling along at my own pace.

The walk up the 164 steps to the top of the “Pizzo” is difficult and tiring. Its now I wish I didn’t smoke as at almost 960m its hard to breathe the air in. I stop ... often as the stairs turn to a rocky narrow track and think why don’t they weed this tourist pathway? All those out of work youths in the village could do it instead of lazing around in the bars all day.

As I reach almost the top there is the remains of a castle fortress, gothic in architecture. I read later it is all that remains of a tower with a door which was the refuge of Queen Sibilla and her son William III hid in the fortress against the arrogance of Henry the VI of Swabia. He only made her come out through a diabolical trick. It seems Caltabellota is revered for its myths and legends. “Camico” the powerful and mythical fortress of Sican, it was previously called Triokala after King Kokalo, where in the 2nd century servile war 104-99BC the rebel slaves barricaded themselves under the leadership of Trifore. Trikola became the first Episcopal see of the isle with St Pilgrim defeating the dragon and ending the heathen rites that were celebrated here......Your right means nothing to me but I thought I would throw that in for a historical note!

As I take just another rest, its hot and hard work! I look over towards the Norman Church on the East side of the rock. I hear a commotion going on as I noticed a modern day shepherd (Why?....because he has a car), the sheep are munching away around the car on the small open plain on the summit. Another man, obviously a local resident is shouting at him to move on, his dogs rounding up the sheep and scaring them off bells ringing around their necks. It seems to be an Italian standoff as a heated discussion pursues and echoes around the natural rocky theatre.

I slowly head back down towards the little church, directed along the way by local women, dressed in aprons, sitting out front of the terraces waiting for the menfolk to return for dinner. As I approach the small church I come across a group of people chatting away. A dog is scampering around all of them begging for attention. “Skippy” they call as I get closer. I ask is his name “Skippy”?, because I am also a skippy from Australia. As it turns out the couple chatting to the women were from Germany, Maryann and Mario. Maryann spoke excellent English so we talked for a while. Mario has a brother in Noble Park in Melbourne who they visited Melbourne some years ago. They were on their annual visit back to Marios birthplace to stay with family.

The church was closed but the Signora lived right there and he offered to show me through the historic church. It was built into the rocky mountain and the grotto columns were each carved out of the rock itself. Ancient frescos are painted on the walls, still slightly visible. It was incredible to see. We walked down again from the church and they invited me for a cool drink at his sisters house a few metres away. Here the view of Caltabellotta and the distant Mediterranean is breathtaking, you can see for miles. We sat for a while and drank fruit juice and had an offer to stay for dinner but I wanted to drive down the mountain road while it was still light. Lovely friendly hospitable people. Grazie.

I drove back to my seaside apartment with the fairy lights of Sciacca in the distance. A beautiful night now around 10.30pm I wander down to the port cafe/bars just 100m away. The port is packed with young people, numbering at least 1000 I would think. Its the most popular place in town. Large entertainment areas with pool tables, amusement games and bars. The legal age for drinking is 18 apparently but either I am getting old but some of them don’t look much over 14. They are all dressed to impress, most on scooters and motor bikes, but surprisingly no trouble just a lot of love going around it seems! I wander past, its dark of course and that would explain a few looks and whistles....hahah if only they knew how old I was....old enough to be their grandmother! Well almost!

I head to the gelataria for a cappuccino and crepe with nutella and of course icecream. Watch the radio video show on tv a while before heading back to my little apartment.