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.

Sciacca and amore

I left Marina Di Ragusa pretty early in the morning so I would try to beat the heat of the day as I had a few hundred kms to do. I was going via Piazza Almarina, home to a Roman Villa with mosaics from the 4th century BC, then onto Enna said to be geographically in the centre Sicily before heading to Sciacca (pronounced Sharka) where I would be staying for the next 3 nights.

I set off towards Piazza Armerina around 100kms away. Although I was in the Renault Panda, I wound down all the windows to let the breeze flow through my hair, put a CD on, Biagio Antonacci, an Italian singer similar to Cold Play and drove through the olive and citrus groves through to Ragusa then off the main highway 514, a left turn into 124 Grammichele and Caltagirone, a hill top city with shabby terraces that appeared from nowhere as I drove through the snakes of a roads into the rocky mountains. Some Italian motorcycle club guys followed me and I followed them for the 50km trip up hills and across plains with views as far as the Mediterranean. It was good to have company along the way. I stopped for a coffee at Grammichele and break from the burning 35degree sun. I took photos of the riders and talked with them for a while. They were on tour from Rome for 2 weeks and members of the Honda Gold Wing Club, though 2 were riding R1200 BMW’s. They were heading to Enna north of Piazza Armerina so they left before me.

As I drove through the many towns along the way I wondered where all these people from these huge villages worked or spent their time. Many were sitting on the steps of their terrace houses passing the time with friends or preparing their vegetables for lunch. They stare at each car as it passes. Simple lives where time seems to have stopped for the moment.

I continued on, getting a little lost, but that’s what touring is all about. Sidetracking and stopping for photo opportunities of the changing landscape. Piazza Armerina was a cool relief as I lunched with sliced meat, olives, mozzarella and champignons under the shade of lemon trees on the terrace of the Villa Romane di Casale, I had bought before I left Marina Di Ragusa. I wandered around the rooms of mosaics from 400BC in awe of the majestic art from so long ago.

Back on the road I continued across to Barrafranca, Pietraperzia before stopping for a cool lemoncello (lemon and vodka) at Caltanisetta. I still had about 150kms to go to get to Sciacca before 5pm so I stuck to the main highway from there. Nowhere near as exciting and interesting as the morning ride but I got there in time to check in to the seaside apartment I had organised a few days before. Hot and tired I swam in the sea before sleeping it off for a few hours.

The apartment, basic but clean and comfortable was one of the terraces along the promenade of the old port, a beautiful view from the front door. Pity it didn’t have a balcony but just a few steps across the road was the beach and plenty to see with the sardine fishing boats coming and going all day long. 100m away were the cafe/bars and restaurants so popular in the seaside towns.

My affitasi (rental) host was a man around 60years old. Spoke some English, but understood little of what I said. He was kind enough on the first night to take me to a supermarket, then up to view Sciacca from the Bytantine Church that stood 450m above the sea. He drove me around the port and the monument dedicated to the French from the war and most of the little streets that make up this old port town. He couldn’t do enough for me.....and I later find out why!

Next morning I am barely awake and my host Michael is knocking on my door, asking what do I need, is everything allright? He comes in and sits down at the table and I explain that a frying pan would be good and some dish liquid. Some salt and pepper would be a bonus! Then as I am in the kitchen he corners me, oo ooh! He is in love with me and dreamt about me all night.............Oh dear! I brush him off, fearing this could be a problem but make light heart of it and say its not right, I would prefer if he left me alone. Please don’t come in without asking etc. Oh I didn’t realise I had that effect on men, I was thinking, pity he wasn’t the good looking Italian man I met in Salemi!

Over the next couple of days he sort of stalked me as I was coming and going from my little apartment. He was pretty harmless and didn’t try anything again but said he was going to be very sad after I left on Saturday.

I spent most of my time in Sciacca relaxing, going for swims or just walking around the area. It was so hot and I had been on the road for almost 3 weeks so I wanted to enjoy the location. On my second day I left my excursion until the cool afternoon to go to Caltebellotta. Another interesting historic hilltop village.

Marina Di Ragusa July 5th 2010

Ahh at last the beach, the village piazza and back to Sicilian life.....

So here I sit with my Lemoncello in hand after a tiring day driving and finding an apartment to stay for the next couple of days. I am in Marina di Ragusa on the central south coast of Sicily, 100km from Agrigento and about 30kms from Ragusa. After asking for an Affitasi a camera (room for rent) at about 4 places I finally secured one in my price range. Some as in hotels were as much as 70euros a night, another 35euros without use of the kitchen, and another 40 euros miles out of the thriving village so I passed them all up. Then I walked the streets of Marina di Ragusa looking for the Infoturisto, even with the help of the Carabiniere (the local policeman) I couldn’t find it. Finally down one of the narrow oneway streets I came across a sign Affitasi and Giovanna was just across the road visiting a friend. She took me inside and sat me down to do the negotiations. I offered 30euros a night, probably more than she was expecting but of course she accepted without hesitation. I wasw happy with the price and after paying her the money and having to ask a couple of times I was finally shown the camera (room) upstairs.

Its spacious to say the least, probably hasn’t had a good clean for how long but I was tired of looking and they are few at this time of year with many tourists in the town.

Its a quaint little seaside village with a beautiful (piazza) square circled with neatly clipped leaves on its highest branches. The circle of greenery shades the piazza late into the afternoon as people congregate for a chat or just sit and watch the world go by.

I’d arrange to meet someone earlier who owned a B&B but unfortunately it was full, lucky for me though I would never had found this place. Giovanna cant speak a word of English and my Italian is very limited at this stage past a few words. I am catching onto about 3 words out of a sentence but she doesn’t care she just keeps talking and throws in capito? (understand?) every now and then. No I don’t but we get by it seems as I now have linen, shown where the local supermarket is and have her number if I need anything.

Thats what I love about Sicily, they are so friendly and offer to help me whenever I am lost or don’t know something.
Just down from me below is a gelataria, an ice-cream shop, a pink Vespa was parked out the front till just a minute ago. The streets towards the Piazza are lined with cafe’s most of them filled with people, probably tourists, its 7.45pm and the sun has finally cooled off. Its been around 30degrees today making it a hot drive. Just now its 8pm and the church bells are chiming the end of the working day. Most of the shops will be closing in a few minutes, leaving only the cafes to fill for mangarie (dinner).

Today I had stopped along the way from my overnight stop in Agrigento, at Sciogglio and Falcona where there was a beautiful beach and a castle being restored on the edge of the cliffs. The aquamarine water of the Mediterranean was a magnificent site and a relief from the burning sun. I usually try to take the coastal road where possible, deviating into the small villages that scout the coast. A popular tourist location for many Romans and Northern Italians. Most of the area is blanketed in a sea of plastic igloos, growing the world famous pomodore, (vine tomatoes). They truly are the best I have ever tasted, rich in flavour and definitely fresh enough to eat like a fruit.

Last night I stayed in The Grand Hotel dia Templi in Agrigento, a comfortable bed in an old 60’s hotel recently restored with a pool and breakfast included for 39euros. At first glance I thought it was going to be awful, but the staff were really friendly, the bed the most comfortable in Sicily so far and it was a nice change from B&B’s or homes. I slept most of my time there as the night before I had slept in my car! Yes in my car! I went to a Lido (beach club) in Marsala that had a fiesta. It was 15euros for dinner and wine and was supposed to kick on until 5am. Well it probably went till about 2.30am and I didn’t book any accommodation as I felt I would waste my money. I bought a pillow in the supermarket the day before, had my quilt and parked the car on the parking lot just outside the Lido. It was safe enough and had a reasonable sleep, albeit tucked up on my Renault Panda’s back seat with my backpack and pillow. A little cramped but comfortable enough until I awoke with the morning sun hitting a warm 25degrees around 7am. It was time enough to make an early start and I knew of a gelataria in Marsala that would probably be open with a toilet and a morning cappuccino to get me started. Oh its hard to do cappuccino and cream filled pastries at 7am, but I did need to use their toilet and washbasin to freshen up. Koleta and I had been there a few nights before, late at night for a coffee.

So I digress back in time...sorry.

I look towards the piazza about 60metres away and notice it is filling with people. The central stage has become an attraction for all the children, jumping and dancing around. Mama Giaovanna mentioned something about a discotheque in the piazza tonight but I guess I will have to wait and see.

I am heading off now for dinner now. Its a seaside village so I guess it will be seafood of some type. I am loving the seafood here in Sicily and have eaten it most nights in some sort of combination.

So ciao for now

Buena notte

xx

Now its 11.30pm and I have returned from eating my Macaroni bolognaise, the piazza is filled with families, its about 20degrees and the Gelataria is doing a grand trade with people lined up for their evening treat. The children are still parading on the stage, full of life with no sign of fatigue. Where do they get their energy? I am ready for bed! I yawn just thinking about it.

And so my road trip starts ....

Thursday July 1st, 2010

We got up early the next day and I saw Koleta off at the airport. At breakfast I had met a Swedish woman, Karin and her friend another Karin. She needed a lift to the airport and came with us to pick up her car. They were heading towards Syracuse and hiking around Etna for a few days. Another man Landers and his family were also staying at the B&B and later I dropped him at the airport for his car. He told me about a couple of films about the area I should download. So I have the site and will download them when I get a chance. One about the mafia, 100 steps, about a guy who was murdered for interfering with the mafia. It sounds interesting and happened right around the area where I was living near Palermo.

I decided to stay at the B&B another night and explore the area in my car. I randomly chose to Salemi, a small hilltop village only 30kms away. I try to use the secondary roads wherever possible and stay off the vast highways that only take you from A to B. I love to drive slowly through the villages and farmlets, you see so much more of the country and the people.

What started as a good road only a few kms from the B&B turned into a goat track so I was literally 4X4 driving in my Renault Panda trying to follow the beaten up road signs along the way. Stopping to ask farmers and passing cars for the right directions in my bad Italian I finally made it to this beautiful historic village. I again negotiated the narrow streets till I got lost heading towards the Duomo (cathedral/church). In my travels I try to find the Duomo or the Porto (port) which is usually where settlement began and the most historic parts of the towns. They are both easily spotted from a distance so I know I am heading in the right direction, if not lost amongst the one way streets.

On my way, and now completely bamboozled which direction I need to go to get to the Piazza, I eventually spot a gentleman walking through the abandoned streets. Its lunchtime and most of the shops are shut and the people inside from the blazing heat. I ask which way to the Duomo and he speaks perfect English. His name is Angelo and works for the municipal office and says he is heading that way, so he could jump in and direct me. Get in! Of course! He is probably the best looking Italian man of his age I have seen. Get and lock the door, I am not letting you out!

He directs me to the Piazza after giving me an Historic tour of the small village. He asks would I like coffee at the squares only eatery/bar. Of course! I try to shout the coffee for his assistance but he insists no. He introduces me to an Englishman who now lives in Salemi. In fact he lives in a beautiful terrace house across the square. Angleo and I sit and chat for a while. He flies light aircrafts as a hobby and has travelled quite a bit in Europe with that. A charming man, perhaps late 40’s and seems well respected in the town as a few people come to greet him while we sit.

He has to go to a meeting so we bid ciao and sadly my tall dark and handsome Italian man is gone off down the cobbled streets never to be seen again. Hmm may have to work on my “keeping an Italian man” manual! ........................Or maybe not!

I get talking to another, OMG almost too good looking to be true Italian guy called Nicola. He speaks beautiful English with a that Italian movie star accent to die for. Sadly he is only 26, half my age. Why are all these beautiful people living in Salemi? Have I come across the beautiful people town of Italy?

Nicola has been working in London as a chef and will head to work in Barcelona for the summer like a lot of young Sicilians. He says he would like to go to Australia sometime and find himself a wife over there and settle down. We chat for a while and I say how I have the perfect girl for him, Kathy, my friend back home. I couldn’t resist taking a photo of him, for her of course, not for me! Its getting hot in the sun and I want to explore this beautiful village of ruins and cobbled streets lined with terraced houses so I bid ciao to my movie star and leave wishing I was at least 20 years younger.

I walk towards my car and am addressed from above in the small terrace house across the square. Its David, the Englishman. He asks would I like some coffee or a cold drink, to come on up and view the square from his balcony. He seemed safe enough and afterall it was a small village, I could be found pretty easily if I was captured and kept like in the book by John Fowles “The Collector”!

David is from Manchester, like most of the Brits I have met over my journey the past two years. He has been living in Italy for around 20years, mostly in the North and now in Sicily for the past 2 years. He bought this quaint terrace last September and has renovated it to a comfortable 3 storey apartment. We sit on the balcony overlooking the square and beyond to the rolling hills and steep mountains in the distance. Its idyllic, I can hardly believe I am sitting here. He works in real estate here. Its the town that a couple of years ago the mayor had an idea to restore the old ruins of the historic town by selling them off for 1euro each. Yes 1 euro! However, there is a promise attached that they will be restored and rebuilt within a few years. How interesting? Hmm I don’t know anymore details about it at this stage. We talk for a while about what we are doing in life and where we have been. I explain about my 5 month sojourn and how I hope to spend most of it in Italy. How I am working now and then with helpx people, not so much for free accommodation but to actually live with families and in communities to really get to know the place.

He is interested in my concept and before long offers for me to come and stay there for a few days at least and “work” for him or others that he knows. Wow! That would be fantastic, to return to this village and get to know the area. Its such a beautiful place where time has stopped and people are not only very friendly but beautiful too!

I accept and arrange to email back as we swap cards and David needs to do some work as I have kept him long enough. He shows me through the apartment and where I will be staying and that I will return on Wednesday to stay for at least a few days. Great! Who knows what is ahead of me. He will arrange a list of things for me to do while I am gone. I hope it works out okay. He is quite a gentleman and I am looking forward to hearing more about the 1euro houses and Salemi life.

I make my way back to the B&B through the backroads again until I am lost somewhere again in the vicinity. I stop and ask the Cabinerie parked alongside a road who have pulled over a driver for a check, as usual. In my bad Italian I ask for assistance and they decide to lead me to where I need to go. Some 15kms as it turns out, I follow them until I reach the SS115, a road I get to know really well as it skirts the southern Sicilian coast line, I spend most of my driving on and off it over the next week. Home at last I am tired from the beating sun and driving and fall asleep for a few hours.

Next morning I am heading back to Palermo to Balustrate, to Antonio’s, the helpx place. I had promised to return to help with the changeovers as he has guests leaving and new ones arriving for a full house on the Saturday. He said he didn’t have any helpers or cleaners and because he let me stay on after our argument an extra night I felt it was the right thing to do. It was just an hour or so away from Marsala so I enjoyed the drive back after a quick lunch and packed up my things. I have accumulated a lot of stuff on my travels for cooking and eating al fresco. Saving money and also eating some foods I like, not as rich as the Sicilian diet contains. No ice cream, but pomodore (tomatoes) and sliced meats, pickled onions and of course the numerous jams I have made along the way. A mandatory jar of oregano. I will never eat tomatoes without it now. Just sprinkle a little on top and taste the difference! You will never taste better tomatoes than those found in Sicily, the home of tomatoes. Rich in flavour and sweet enough to eat as a fruit. To die for! So lucky I have a car at this stage to cart around my numerous belongings.

Back at Antonios, Andrea is lazing by the pool and Antonio is glad to see me back. His younger brother has arrived for the weekend. Marchello, a sad looking soul, but speaks some English and over the next few hours I get to know more about him. He was a physical education teacher but apparently was laid off with the crisis. I later find out he has suffered with depression from a relationship and that explains his sadness. He is around 45, though he said 28, but nice to talk to and a beautiful smile that is shown rarely. I say to him a lot over the time I am there to smile more and he does. I make myself at home back in the same room, then go for a dip in the pool. I want to go to Castellemmere again for dinner and ask Marchello would he like to come, but he is hesitant to leave Antonio his host for the night. He is shy and threatened by his presence I notice while I am there. So I head off alone back to the portside cafe I visited with Koleta. Its around 9pm and the port is beautifully lit like a fairy town. All the terraced houses encircling the harbour high up to the ridge of the mountain. It is one of the most picturesque harbours I have ever seen. Postcard perfect, even my camera cant capture all the magic it has to offer.

This time I try the Spaghetti with Tuna, Koleta had eaten it and it looked delicious. It was! I think its the best meal I have had in Sicily and has the true taste of tomatoes you would expect to find here. Cooked with all the love and attention as the previous time by the family chef. They were happy to see me return again and greeted me with big smiles. I returned to Balestrate for a late night coffee again, as usual to the Piazza and watched the soccer game between Uruguay and Ghana. Exciting enough because of the atmosphere of a cafe in Sicily surrounded by enthusiastic followers of the game. Not Collingwood and Essendon’s, Anzac Day match, but nonetheless exciting! Andrea and his friend joined me for a drink and offer to head to a nightclub, but I was tired and had to work for Antonio the next morning so I passed on the offer. I found my way back to the villa around midnight.

Next morning I wake to hear voices of the cleaners returned to do the changeovers! OMG this man is incredible! I was slightly annoyed that I had bothered to do the “right thing” and drive the 100kms back to help, especially after he told me I wouldn’t do a good job like they could! So I soent the morning pottering around and trying to make myself look reasonably useful. I strip the beds, iron some sheets and arrange the cupboard of linen.

Antonio has some plums for me to make more jam with, so I do. Marchello loves my jam and watches carefully over me as I make it. Asking questions and saying how he loves fruit and only eats a little meat. He scoffs all the fruit residue from the colander as I strain the juices from the plums.

Its almost lunchtime and I am given the task of going to the supermarket and pescheria (fish shop) with a list of supplies for lunch. Scibbled on a piece of scrap paper, I am to get 2kgs of Cozze (mussels) cleaned and should be around 2.34euros, 500g of Sardina not more than 3.00euros for the gatto (cat). Directions on how to get there scribbled with a few lines in a main street drawing and told not the little 6mtrs wide street but the street 16mtrs wide. He doesn’t know the name of the street or the shop but to look, use my eyes. An impossible man! Also a few things at the SISA supermarket, I knew it, I went with Andrea on Monday for supplies (before the ice cream we had). I am to buy 1 Spiedino, classico its basically a skewered kebab shape of Mozzarella cheese and wrapped in prosciutto ham, I ailio (garlic) 1 romana lettuce. If there isn’t any spiedino I must get trinka! The thicker one not the thin one. Thankgoodness they had spiedino I didn’t have enough information about the trinka! I head back with my all my shopping pleased I was A)Finding the right fish shop B)able to get all the right ingredients, though the fish was slightly more expensive for the cat than he expected to pay C)I had none or little that is trouble in shopping by myself. A job well done I thought, but no “thanks that was a good job you did” nothing..... Antonio is not one for saying thankyou much! Marchello and I washed the mussels again then I watched as he cooked the mussels, taking note for my future reference and posting his “secret recipe” on here for all to read!

Antonio’s Secret recipe for Mussels! (all his recipes are secrets apparently!)

Wash the mussels in cold water and remove all the beards. Rinse again in cold water before putting them in the pot. Dont add any water to the pot. There is enough from the mussels to broil them. Now this is something I didn’t know. I have always added some water, fearing they might burn but there is enough that comes out naturally. Dont add any salt either. Lace on a low heat and steam them for around 15mins. It seemed too long for me, but its his secret recipe!

Slice thinly an onion (I was able to do this “perfecto” he said) and sauté in some extra virgin olive oil until transparent. Add a can of baby tomatoes (the best in the world he says.... from Sicily of course) and simmer away until they are cooked.

Drain the steamed mussels to remove the juice, then remove most of the mussels from the shells, leaving just a few good looking shells for presentation on the plate. You can add just a bit of the juice if necessary to make a soup and serve with stale bread to soak it up. Dont think about adding any pepper, herbs or spices! “You vill not taste the mussles”! It was delicious! So we ate complete with two glasses of wine, it was a long lunch with a discussion afterwards about how he should be nicer and not so aggressive to his helpxers. I don’t think I got through to him but I tried! After lunch a swim then a sleep before I packed and dressed for my drive to Marsala and the Lido Fiesta!

I drove the almost 80kms to Marsala and found the Lido. Luckily I had done a reconnaissance drive the day before as I would never have found it in the dark, to arrive at around 9.30pm. On arrival I parked my car in the carpark and saw just a few people there. Not much of a fiesta and definitely not the wahoo party I was expecting. However I paid my 15euros to Clara the manager and she directed me to a table of her friends I could join for the dinner.

They were a group of 3 couples and two children, obviously from the 25+ upper class of Marsala, and members of this private club. They were all sweet. Lucca introduced me to his wife, Marilana, his friends Viledia, Alessandro and their beautiful 3yo daughter Asia, Elvira and Danillo and their son Auroura. They all lived locally and Viledia could speak quite good English. They made a place at their table, filled a plate full of pasta and poured me a wine. The DJ played mostly English speaking songs from Michael Buble to House music. Next course was again mussles, the same as I had for lunch followed by fresh fruit salad. We sat and talked and I showed them photos from my iPod of my son and his girlfriend and pictures of my cottage. It was difficult to communicate at times between my lack of Italian and the blasting music. They were intrigued at my gypsy life journey, where I had been and where I was going. They stayed until around midnight and had to go. I stayed a while longer but felt a little uncomfortable by myself so I made my way to my car. My accommodation for the night! You see I hadn’t booked anywhere to sleep because I was led to believe the fiesta would go to the wee small hours of the morning, perhaps 5am. So I bought a pillow the day before, had my quilt and made the back seat of the Fiat Panda sort of comfortable enough, though a little cramped in the legs. I slept on and off as the fiesta continued on below me on the beach. It was safe enough, on a main road and well lit, so I wasn’t too worried about it. It was hot and the windows fogged up blanketing the inside of the car like well made curtains!

I awoke with the sun streaming in around 6.30am, a little worse for wear with aching legs wanting to stretch out. I knew I would need a toilet in the near future so I lay dozing off until at least 7am when I knew the gelataria Koleta and I visited, with the DJ playing, would open for business. Idrove around there, not too far away, luckily it was...being Domenica (Sunday) I feared all would be closed. A cappuccino and a pastry, a quick use of the bathroom and wash up, was cheaper than a hotel. Hmm note to self, may look at the same thing later on my journey!

Cleaned up it was time to head towards Agrigento. I had booked to stay in a hotel (luxury after the car) the next three nights and I could check in after 12noon. A swimming pool and comfortable bed awaited me so I could spend the next 4-5 hours getting there, about 70kms away. I drove along the coast road (SS115) most of the way, sidetracking to beachside villages looking for possible places to stay after Wednesday till Saturday. David had emailed to say we had to delay my arrival until Saturday as he would still be in Trieste until Friday afternoon.

I drove through Mazarra Del Vallo, an awfully uninteresting town mostly industrial and oil refineries. I guessed that people around here had to work somewhere and that must be it. Then onto Selinunte, built on a promontory overlooking the sea, now an Archeological Park to wander around in with ruins of the huge city built in 628BC. I parked the car and wet to buy my ticket, it was only 8.30am and it didn’t open until 9am. I grabbed a copy of a book about the Mafia and sat and read until it opened. There were only a handful of people before opening which as it turned out was perfect for exploring the site and photographing the ruins without Hawaiian shirted tourists climbing all over the ancient relics. It took me almost an hour in the hot sun to walk around the site.For two and a half centuried it was one of the richest and most powerful in the world. It was destroyed by the Carthaginians in 409BC, then finally fell to the Romans around 350BC. I marvelled at how they would have built these huge structures and lugged them up these hilltops all those years ago. Massive columns, most of them unearthed by archaeologists, and are still discovering relics where the areas are taped off. Fascinating to see the remains of an old village, planned cobbled streets and hewn out stone troughs. Eerie to walk around by myself knowing that almost 3000 years ago it would have been a thriving metropolis.

Next I drove to Sciacca. Another seaside city that has been overtaken by many civilisations since 300-400BC. It has a busy port famous for the worlds best sardines. (I guess I will have to try them). I made my way again to the port to take a short rest from the drive so far and get out of the sun for awhile. I lay on the stone sea wall, just beyond the street market, made some cornflakes and dozed for a while. I liked it here. I felt safe and wanted to return for at least a few days. I noticed some affatasi signs along the street overlooking the Mediterranean azure blue water and asked someone who owns them. Luckily the owner, Michael as it turns out, was walking just down the street. He showed me through a basic but comfortable apartment and to my surprise said it was only 20euros a night. Wow! I jumped at the chance to stay there and arranged to return on Wednesday. Yes another idyllic spot. Almost what I had in mind, short of a balcony was all.

I headed off again towards Agrigento just 50kms away, I was getting tired and ready for a swim in the pool. I checked into the Grand Hotel Dia Temple, after spending almost an hour and numerous round about here and there directions from people I finally found it. I swam, cleaned up and went for dinner at San Leone another beach resort 10kms away. I find it much better by myself to eat at resort places where people are friendly and happy to chat away. It had a night market and so many restaurants to choose from, I spent an hour or so before returning to Agrigento. It had been a long but eventful day. I love Sicily!