This hillside town is just a pit stop on the way to ancient walled city of Cefalu. Sicily so far has been an interesting mix of ups and downs (ups being climbing 200 steps to top of town to see a cathedral that's closed - D'oh!). Here's what we've experienced so far in brief:
THE GOOD: Plates groaning with fresh seafood, delicious pasta, light smooth red wine from local grapes and creamy dangerously addictive gelato. Friendly people in shops and restaurants making sure we don't starve. Clean trains that run on time, rolling through hillsides covered with olive trees, grapes, clusters of sheep or wildflowers, and clear acqua water that is unfortunately too cold to swim in (it's torture looking at seaside and being unable to dive into 15 degree icebaths. Wimps!) Ancient greek temple ruins, and colourful streetlife - families straight out of The Godfather or The Sopranos with men in shiny suits and women with too much makeup in towering high heels. Ancient faces of old men in dapper caps and suits, strolling with canes on the narrow cobblestone streets. Also little old couples that are about the size of garden gnomes, walking or riding the train in their Sunday best, sometimes with a large bundle of fresh artichokes and a plastic gas can full of red wine in tow.
THE BAD: Garbage strewn everywhere. People shouting at each other and pushing on the bus to Palermo, with a bit of racial tension thrown in between Italians and darker African or Arabic peoples. Everything served in plastic throwaway containers or packs. The rule in Sicliy is that if you are done with it, throw it down wherever you are and keep walking. Crumbling sidewalks, seawalls and buildings - apparently with the corruption, they never pour enough concrete so everything falls apart. Also everything closes in the middle of the day from about 1.30 to 4 so you can be caught with nothing to do and no food! The only remedy is to repair to a restaurant and eat and drink - it's hard but someone's got to do it.
THE GOOD: Plates groaning with fresh seafood, delicious pasta, light smooth red wine from local grapes and creamy dangerously addictive gelato. Friendly people in shops and restaurants making sure we don't starve. Clean trains that run on time, rolling through hillsides covered with olive trees, grapes, clusters of sheep or wildflowers, and clear acqua water that is unfortunately too cold to swim in (it's torture looking at seaside and being unable to dive into 15 degree icebaths. Wimps!) Ancient greek temple ruins, and colourful streetlife - families straight out of The Godfather or The Sopranos with men in shiny suits and women with too much makeup in towering high heels. Ancient faces of old men in dapper caps and suits, strolling with canes on the narrow cobblestone streets. Also little old couples that are about the size of garden gnomes, walking or riding the train in their Sunday best, sometimes with a large bundle of fresh artichokes and a plastic gas can full of red wine in tow.
THE BAD: Garbage strewn everywhere. People shouting at each other and pushing on the bus to Palermo, with a bit of racial tension thrown in between Italians and darker African or Arabic peoples. Everything served in plastic throwaway containers or packs. The rule in Sicliy is that if you are done with it, throw it down wherever you are and keep walking. Crumbling sidewalks, seawalls and buildings - apparently with the corruption, they never pour enough concrete so everything falls apart. Also everything closes in the middle of the day from about 1.30 to 4 so you can be caught with nothing to do and no food! The only remedy is to repair to a restaurant and eat and drink - it's hard but someone's got to do it.
THE UGLY: Nothing opens or runs at all during Easter Sunday and Monday, so we had to walk about 4 kilometres back to our B&B because even the bus wasn't running. Yippee. Oh well, that's the way the concrete crumbles. We no doubt needed more exercise after pasta, pizza, gelato, etc. More from Sicily soon. We're off to the Lipari Islands soon for volcanic mud baths and we'll give you all the dirt, so to speak.
Bon Jour! We've been so busy travelling we haven't had time to blog. The rest of Bali and Singapore went by in a sweaty blur and now we are in Paris. It is a big change from wearing a swimsuit and boardshorts all day. Now we are in beanies, jeans and jumpers. I've discovered as the French already know, that even polar fleece looks chicer if you add a scarf.