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.