My last weekend in Rome

This was my last weekend in Rome. I had three nights in the city to fit in any last adventures and see any last sights. I was really excited to return to Rome which was funny because I was so excited to leave Rome back on April 1st when I headed south. I was feeling overwhelmed by the city back then. Coming back felt comfortable and familiar.
I don't know that I did a lot with my remaining time but it was a nice weekend just the same. I saw friends from Seattle that have lived here for the last year and who are also returning to Seattle at the end of May. I saw a couple of my former classmates too. I got my fill of all my favorite foods and even discovered some new favorites. I did a lot of shopping. I finally got on the archaeological bus and saw some sights that are different than those on most tour bus agendas. In the end, what I did most, was just walk and walk and walk around all the various areas and see things for the last time.
I felt sad to be leaving. I didn't expect to feel that way. I've gone through such a roller coaster of emotions over the last three months. Even in my final days in Rome, things weren't all rosy. The city doubled it's population while I was away. So many tourists have come into the city for their vacations. It was unbelievable. I think as a result, the locals were cranky...more so than usual. They were short with you and irritated when you couldn't respond as fast as they were moving.
Even with all that I am sad to say good bye to my time here. However, I'm also ready to go home. It's a nice place to be - equally happy to be here and equally happy to go home. I don't think I've felt that sense of balance when on a trip. I'm not sure what got me here but I like it and I'm working on more of it in other areas of my life.
So tomorrow I will get on my very early flight and return to the states. I look forward to seeing all of you and thank you for joining me on my journey. It was so much fun and I loved writing about it. I will miss writing a blog. I might just have to come up with something interesting to write about while I'm home.

I'll leave you with one final item. When I was on my tour bus, I captured a video of a bunch of Ferrari's going down the street. It took me awhile to realize that it wasn't just one Ferrari but a parade of them! The street was shut down and they had a police escort. An Ambulance can barely get cars to move out of it's way but for Ferrari's they close the street! I'm sure it was something "official" or special. Either way, enjoy some images from the last 3rd of the parade.

My Last Day in Palermo

My last day in Palermo was emotional. I felt tired of being here. I was tired of the noise, traffic, pollution, and people. I also witnessed two very intense sights here. I decided to leave town once again to visit monte pelligrino, outside of town. I took the terrifying bus ride up a hillside to the church of Santa Rosalia (makes me think of the Los Lobos song “Rosalie”). The bus driver was flying up the narrow streets, honking his horn at every turn, and cranking the bus around hairpin turns. Ack.
St. Rosalia is the patron saint of Palermo, credited for getting rid of the plague in Palermo. She is super important to the people here and it is believed that her remains were found at this location. I walked up the stairs to the church. It’s situated at the top and is built into a hillside. You walk through the church door and the rock is visible everywhere. It definitely felt spiritual in this church, one of the few that feel this way to me. There are gutters along the rock to catch water that is dripping down. The locals believe it has special healing property. I looked to see if they sold it but didn’t see anything for sale. I didn’t want to stick my hand in the trough in case that wasn’t appropriate. I considered it but didn’t do it. People could leave notes in a plastic case for the saint. Some took to writing their notes on the rock wall. At the entrance to the chapel there were also cards and notes of thanks to the saint for listening to their prayers. It was really interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this with a catholic church. I went to Our Lady of La Salette in France when I was little but I don’t remember what it was like. It is believed that Mary appeared here and cried a pool of tears that is still there and never freezes even though this is in the mountains and covered in snow. I don’t remember it feeling spiritual. In fact, after posing by the pool of tears and collecting my sample, my brothers Joe & Allan, and my sister Megan and I all went “snow gliding” down the hillside. This was something we had watched days before on bad local TV. I laughed so hard doing this with them that I peed my pants. So either it wasn’t too spiritual there or I was too young to notice. Apparently Joe & Allan didn’t feel spiritual either, and they are older than me.

After my visit here, I returned to the center of town, only to decide that I had to leave again. It’s too much!!
I hadn’t seen the catacombs and I heard and read interesting things about them. They contain the bodies of 8000 people. It begun as a place to bury monks and then expanded to regular people – men, women, children. As you walk in, the walls are lined with skeletons that are sort of tied to the walls. The skeletons are all clothed in their burial attire. There are also some that are in open coffins lining the walls. I don’t think I breathed at all while I walked through there and tried to not walk on top of the tombs that were lining the floor. There were two French women walking along with me and one of them said “mon du”. I looked at her and said “yes mon du”.
The place felt so intense. Some of the bodies were just skeletons. Some had a little hair and skin still! There is one little girl who died at two years old. Her body is perfectly preserved. She looks like a little doll. Her name is Rosalia. Coincidence? There is a picture of her here if you want to see http://www.lifeinitaly.com/tourism/sicily/catacomb.asp

I finished the night off by treating myself to a Michelen Star Restaurant. Well, I tried but I didn’t have a reservation. It’s located around the corner from where I’m staying so who would have thought I couldn’t get a table for one?
So I wandered around the corner where on previous nights I had seen a couple of places that looked decent...meaning something more than a bar to get a quickie panino. I ended up at the first place I came to – Na Bucco. I quickly looked at the menu outside and decided to not think too much and just go for it. They asked if I wanted the English menu or Italian and I said “both”. This goes back to my issue with the English translation of Italian food. It’s never anywhere close to accurate. I’m looking through both menus but had pretty much already decided three days ago that I was having a steak. It had been forever. The owner came and asked me what I would like and I told her I was torn between the strudel of cheese, honey, and apples or the tuna tartare. This would have been a simple decision weeks ago – the tuna. Being that I was heading back to the west coast in 5 days (who’s counting) I figured I could have this again in no time. She gave me an explanation (in Italian) about each. Blah, blah, blah – local cheese, blah, blah, blah, fresh tuna. Her preference – the tuna. Okay. Done. I got the tuna tartare. It was sooooooooooooooooo good. I haven’t had this in ages and this is a local thing. I have either (a) not been going to the right restaurants or (b)???? Granted I haven’t eaten a lot of dinners out, opting instead for a big lunch or choosing the cheaper choice. Stupid mistake. Never again.
My next course was the filet of the house cooked in Avola wine, which is a local wine similar to a big Tuscan. My favorites. The filet came out and looked amazing. I dug in and couldn’t believe the meat was so tender. I had them cook it medium. It really was the most tender, moist, light pink,…hey wait a minute. What did I order? Think back. What did it say? I think it was “Filletto di manzo in Avola vino”. Right. Beef filet in Avola wine. Oh no. Is that what it said? Am I eating…I look up and see a picture of a horse. Nuts. Horse meat is fairly common in Italy. I’ve seen it available in Tuscany and it is a specialty of Catania, Sicily. Oh crap. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Am I eating horse? I’m not the biggest horse-loving friend but I do have a feeling about them that extends to not eating them.
I am sorry to all my horse-loving friends – Bridget, Pam, Allida, my niece Hanna, anyone else I’m missing?
I don’t know if it was horse meat but I have never had beef that was like it. I also realized I had my last piece of beef around my 2nd week in Rome. Maybe I forgot what it was supposed to look and taste like.
Either way, I opted to finish off my meal with a warm death by chocolate (which is what they call it in Italian too) and grappa. The grappa was kind of an afterthought. I asked for some other things first and landed on it. I do like grappa but less for the taste and more for the ability it has to burn everything you just ate into a pile of ashes and allow you to go to sleep without a full stomach.
The grappa that was served to me was so good. First, it smelled good! What grappa smells good? I couldn’t get over how it smelled which made my server laugh and talk about how the grappa in America is “forte”. Understatement. Second, it tasted good. I still couldn’t drink it all but it was a lovely finish to the best meal I’ve had in along time and a great way to finish off my roller coaster day and visit to Palermo.

Now, I am back in Rome and I am giddy to be back. Yippee!!

Never get involved with a Sicilian when death is on the line.

I’ve wanted to come up with a good reason to use this line and I never really found one. The closest I got to “death” was being locked in the bathroom. It was a far stretch to death. I think I would have just lost a few pounds, which would have been good. However, in that moment, I had loads of help from Sicilians. Getting involved with them actually helped me.
I’m glad I spent the whole month in Sicily. It gave me a chance to really explore the entire area and see almost everything. I could have probably seen everything if I had my own transportation and a desire to race around. I wasn’t really sure my intention when I came down here. Sightsee, relax, a little of both? I wasn’t really streamlined for quickly getting around and seeing all the sights. I think that squashed my desire to see more places. Spending a week in Cefalu came out of being done with the whole sightseeing thing and just wanting to stay put and relax for a while. I really enjoyed that week. I saw some sights but I also did nothing on a few days. I loved Taromina and Agrigento. The two places are very different. Taromina is almost like Disneyland where everything is perfect, happy, and sunshine. I love Disneyland. Agrigento was a bit dirty and I was semi-stalked, but I loved the history and the cultural diversity there.
I’m not sure if being in Palermo last is a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t love this city. I’m definitely here too long but with day trips out of the city it helps to not feel overwhelmed by the chaos. I don’t know why I booked so many nights here. I had it in my head that I couldn’t return to Rome until May 1st. I’m not really sure why I was stuck on that idea. It didn’t even dawn on me that I could do something different until I was already here and committed to my lodging and plane ticket. It’s changeable, but for a fee, so how important is it to return to Rome a day earlier. I kept thinking be flexible, be flexible but I never saw how to be flexible. I thought I could change my trip plans but I didn’t know how to do it. How silly is that? What is that about?
During my time in Palermo, I have seen some sights in the city and also made two trips out of town.
Saturday was mostly aimless meandering followed by passiagiata with the owners of the B&B. The owner is from Catania (I left out how I feel about his town) and moved here two years ago. I don’t know why he is here so I might ask. This neighborhood, where the B&B is located, was formally the seedy underbelly of Palermo…probably one of many. However, I think it’s of some importance because I saw a whole beautiful coffee table book on the area at the bookstore. The book was filled with photos of people shooting up drugs, living in squalor, and other depressing images. The area hasn’t become this gorgeous shiny new neighborhood. It’s still pretty run down and dirty. Dirty is a relative term here though. It’s beat up. That’s probably more accurate. The education level of people here only goes to about the 7th grade according to my host. Why he chose to buy here and start a B&B, I don’t know. He’s very proud and is trying to change some little things in his building. Hopefully he does some good. I can’t really tell what he is all about or his intentions.
Anyway, our walk through the neighborhood was interesting and he pointed out lots of old buildings and gave me a few facts here and there. There is this one building that was bombed during WWII and what’s left of it still stands. It’s all boarded up and no one has ever done anything with it. It’s not a special memorial nor are there any signs telling you anything about this destroyed building. From what he told me I don’t have the impression that it was planned this way.



Sunday I went to a local outdoor market called Ballaro. There are a few of these here. Vendors sell packaged food, fresh fish, cheese, olives, bread, and a few household goods. The mix of cultures was fascinating and something I really wanted to capture with my camera but wasn’t able to accomplish. There is a big mix of cultures in this town, with people coming from all around Asia and Africa. The first image is of sea urchin. It's very popular here. The huge fish the man is cutting is Toro tuna.



Monday I took the bus out of town to Monreale. It is a hillside town with a beautiful church. It was peaceful up there too. Palermo really came alive on Monday after a holiday weekend, which felt good in one moment and stifling in another. Getting out of the city proved to be challenging as the bus fought it’s way through traffic. The bus itself was incredibly crowded, hot, and stuffy and I found myself yet again getting nauseous.
Tuesday was spent in the beach town of Mondello. I got one more beach fix before I return to Rome. It was a great beach and a cute little town.

I’m not sure what I’ll do for my final day in Palermo. I might venture out of town one more time to Monte Pellegrino. I hear it’s gorgeous up there. There is also one more tourist attraction in town that I haven’t been to yet and it’s supposed to be the top attraction here.
At this point I am really excited to return to Rome, which feels like a home away from home right now. When I first got there, I don’t think I thought I would feel that way about it. I’m excited to return to “my neighborhood” of Trastevere for three final nights. I’m excited to catch up with familiar faces. I’m thinking about places to eat and hang out for my final three days. There are sights that I put off for these three days too so hopefully I can see one or two of them. I’m definitely glad that I planned a last hurrah in Rome before returning to my other home.

Cefalu - Day Five

I’ve been in Cefalu for five days now. It’s a great little town and I don’t really feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome yet. I’m not doing a whole lot here. That was the plan: read, write, sleep, and see some sights. I think a week is a really good amount of time if you have the same agenda as me.

One thing that I’ve really wanted to do on this trip, and I didn’t think would happen, was to go to the Aeolian Islands. I got talked out of it earlier in my trip. I was told the weather could be bad up there until about May or June, when their tourist season opens. I was sad about this but figured I would try to go from Cefalu or it wasn’t going to happen this trip.
The office that I rented this apartment from had advertised tours to the islands so I signed up for one. The tour only went one day and the boat was departing from the town of Milazzo instead of Cefalu. Milazzo is about an hour ½ away, on the northeast corner of Sicily.
I met the driver very early in the morning and he took me and three other people to another location where we got onto a large tour bus that would take us to Milazzo. Shortly after the bus departed, a tour guide got up and began speaking…in French. I’m on a French tour of the islands. As if my head isn’t boggled enough with language? I tried listening for maybe the first few minutes and quickly gave up. I zoned out and read my book a little.
Once we got to the port, I realized I had to find out if anyone spoke English or Italian so that I could at least find out what times I needed to be at the boat for departure from each island. The tour was to take us to Lipari and then Vulcano and I had no idea of the schedule. I found one woman who had taken over as the French tour guide and I asked her if she spoke English (forgot about Italian). She quickly introduced me to Giuseppe who would be one of the tour guides on this trip. He was the German-speaking tour guide. Oh, I’m on a German & French tour. I feel like “Its A Small World After All”. An Italian tour would have been good practice. At this rate, Italian is out the window and I’m now working on my French and German. Thankfully, Giuseppe says, “okay English” and makes a mental note to add that to his repertoire for the day. If I could only have that much talent.
We all pile onto the boat, German, French, and me. The boat speeds out across the sea for the hour or so long journey. I initially sat up on the top level of the boat. After about half way, I decided to head down the main level and use the facilities before we got into port. Once I was down there, it was a pretty hairy idea to try and climb the stairs back up to the top level. The sea was really choppy. Waves were crashing onto the back of the boat by the stairs. I didn’t really care if I got wet but I didn’t want to go flying overboard. I’ve had enough excitement on this portion of my trip.
So, I decided to just stay put on the main level. I sat down on a bench that faced backwards in the boat so that I had a nice view of where we had been. It was actually a good spot because there was lots of fresh air. This became very helpful.
I was sitting there watching the wake of the boat and enjoying the feeling of being on a roller coaster. We would go flying through and over waves and catch air and come back down again. I was having a blast.
I slowly started to notice that people weren’t feeling so great. First, this woman came staggering from the bow of the boat towards me, which was by the bathroom. She gets help into the bathroom. She looks Bad. She comes out and plops right next to me. There are about three boat workers who are now standing around in this area. One of them gives her a plastic bag. Next, I notice that there is a very tall man in front of me that doesn’t look very good. He decides to sit on the floor of the boat. (Is this a good idea? It didn’t seem like it to me.) He is sweating buckets. His girlfriend brings him a towel. He also has a plastic bag. On my left side, there is a very pale woman with a plastic bag. The moment I look over at her, she convulses into her bag. I quickly turn away.
Then I notice that the workers are collecting filled plastic bags. Yucky. That almost makes me throw up writing it. The woman behind me has a sick child throwing up. I am literally sitting in the middle of “Barf-o-Rama”. I want to get up and move but I can’t really go anywhere. Getting upstairs would be a major challenge. Moving to the bow is possible but it’s further away from the nice fresh air, which I think is really more helpful than I know, plus the boat is really rocky. I feel a bit like a scene from a movie when the camera focuses on the main person who is sitting very calmly while everything is chaotic around him. I was really having so much fun and didn’t feel sick at all. That was an accomplishment. I felt bad for these people because I’ve definitely been there. I was really grateful that I wasn’t sick.
It was really total comedy but we couldn’t laugh. Finally, Giuseppe and a couple of the workers start clapping their hands and break out into a John Phillip Sousa song (I know it was one of his songs because Jill always hums it). It made us all laugh…at least those of us that weren’t throwing up.
Once we got to Lipari, I had opted to join a bus tour around the island. I figured the tour would be in French or German but I didn’t care. It would give me a chance to see everything. Well, it was in French, German, Italian, and English. Bravo tour guides!
The tour took about an hour and gave us a chance to see all sides of the island plus get out and take a few photos. Afterwards, I had about an hour to walk around the main center. There wasn’t a lot to see but some cute shops and evil pastries.
Next, we took the boat to Vulcano. They have mud baths and thermal springs here. I really wanted to do this but my guidebook said to not wear your best bathing suit because you never get the smell out. Well, I only brought one swimsuit and it was one of my better ones so I opted against it. I watched some people attempt the bath. It wasn’t what I thought. I just looked like a mud puddle versus some thick muddy pool. Apparently it’s very hot too. You aren’t supposed to stay for more than 20 minutes but I saw people barely in there for 2 minutes.

I decided to have lunch and wander around the really small town. Only 700 people live here and I know why. It stinks! The volcano is constantly releasing sulpherous gases. Pee Ewe!
The boat came and picked us up after a few hours and we headed back to Milazzo and to return to our hotels. The ride back was very smooth by comparison and no one needed a barf bag.
I don’t feel too bad that I didn’t see the others, except for Stromboli. I really wanted to see it at night. I think another long visit to the islands would be a very relaxing trip. There isn’t a lot to do there and they are pretty small. Stromboli doesn’t allow motorized vehicles so it would be a very peaceful visit. I’m glad I saw at least two of the islands.
I leave Cefalu on Saturday for Palermo. I have a lot of time there. I’m a bit nervous about spending so much time there, especially after such a relaxing time here. I’m going to do some day trips to places outside of the city and make sure I don’t get too bogged down in the city hustle. It’s surprising to me but I am excited to get back to the chaos of Rome so maybe Palermo will warm me up for it.
Photo is of Vulcano blowing steam.

Viva Liberazione!

I arrived in Cefalu around 5pm, after another boat & train transportation day that started at 10am. I headed straight to the rental agency to check in and pick up the keys to my apartment. After checking in, a boy brought me to the apartment and reviewed everything in it. He showed me where all the dishes were stored, how the lights worked, and how the washing machine worked. Then he was off. The apartment is amazing. It is the top floor unit of a building basically on the beach. There isn’t anything in front of me so I have an unobstructed view.
There is a great terrace with chairs too. That is why I chose the place. That and the screaming deal. I was so excited to be here. The town looks incredibly cute too.
I decided that I would take care of business first. I needed to go to the bathroom and then I would head to the grocery store and pick up some supplies. I wanted to celebrate my great spot.
I popped into the bathroom and shut the door. It didn’t shut so I pulled the door shut. I don’t know why. I’m the only one here.
I did my business and then went to leave. The door handle just spun. It wouldn’t engage and open the door. I thought maybe it had come loose and needs to be turned a few times in one direction and it would tighten up. I tried that and it didn’t work. Okay, no problem. I’ve been able to open doors with a driver’s license. I don’t have my purse with me though. I surveyed the bathroom and there is Nothing. All I see is a cardboard box with a hairdryer in it. I pull off a flap of cardboard and try that on the door. It’s too soft and bends too much. I try pulling the door handle or twisting it. I move it in all sorts of directions. Nothing. Okay. I’m starting to worry.
Door hinges. Right. I could pull those out when I was a little girl. I put my fingers around one of them and it’s covered in rust. All the sea air has rusted them completely. Okay. Starting to worry more. How am I going to get out of here? I go to the window. All Italian windows have shutters on the outside. I can’t open the shutter portion of the window. The handle is also rusty and incredibly stiff. I am really worried. No one knows me here. The agency won’t check on me. They won’t notice anything until the day I check out which is a week from today. I am incredibly tired, hungry, and still fighting this stupid cold/cough. At this point, the thought does cross my mind that I could spend the entire week in this bathroom.
Now, I’m really mad. I just got here. I’ve literally been here for 10 minutes. This place is exactly what I was wanting and I’m stuck in the bathroom.
I go to the window again. I adjust the shutter slates to open and I see a man on the balcony, across the street, at the same level as me. I don’t know what else to do so I start to yell to him in my most polite Italian. “Scusi! Auito! Auito!” It takes him awhile to see me threw the shutters. “La porta in il bagno, non funzione!” This is all I got. I really don’t know what else to stay or more importantly how to say it. I yell “il solo” and repeat my statement again. He’s acts like “what do you want me to do”. I yell again, “parlo un poco Italiano” and repeat my statement. I tell him that there is another person on the first floor, thinking he’ll ring their bell and maybe they can let him in the building or help or something. He kind of has this look like, “oh man, do I have to”. He begrudging leaves his balcony and heads down to the first floor and across to my building.
In the meantime, I am racking my brain for the name of the company I rented from. It was a vrbo.com rental that is managed by an agency and I can’t think of the name. I’m starting to think that the only option is to tell them the address of the agency and hope they are willing to go there for me.
I look out the window again and there is a woman on the balcony below the guy who’s helping me. She starts rapidly speaking to me in Italian/Sicilian. It sounds a bit like she’s yelling (which it does most of the time). Sicilian sounds like an auctioneer speaking Italian with marbles in their mouth. I tell her I only know a little Italian. She makes some motion about my hands sticking out of the shutters. She does this a lot. I copy it once because I thought maybe they needed to see what floor I was on. Then I start to think that she thinks my hands are stuck. I repeat my same sentence to her a few times. She rapid fires Sicilian at me again. I have no idea what she is saying. I lose it. I just start sobbing. I don’t know if anyone is helping me. I can’t understand anyone and they can barely understand me. I’m exhausted, sweaty, hungry, and sick.
She can tell I’m sobbing and seems to mellow out. She’s still trying to tell me something but I can’t understand her.
I keep trying to get the stupid window open too figuring that it will give me more air and maybe more access to yelling at other people on the street. Maybe someone down there speaks a little English and we can work this out with both languages.
I finally get the window open and it is a huge, huge help. I think the woman across the street things I’m going to crawl out of it though. She gets a little more worried and concerned and rattles more Sicilian at me. I don’t understand any of it and I tell her. She gives the Italian hand gesture of two hands forming a triangle that you motion back and forth near your stomach. This isn’t a good gesture.
She is talking to people in my building on the floors below me now. I can’t see them. She says to them that she thinks I’m French. Ha! I understood. She says some more and I understand “agenzia” and “aspetta”. Ha!! They telephoned the agency and I just need to wait. Yeah!!! I didn’t think you were going to help me!!
Then this man leans out of his window, one floor below me and speaks to me in English that it’s okay and the agency is coming. I’m saved!! I want to cry again.

The agency boys arrive and the first one is very young and opens the door for me and then proceeds to come into the bathroom and close it behind him with me still in there. I guess he wants to see what’s going on. Normally, I would have freaked but I could hear another person coming up behind him. I should have hit the kid though. I think he thought he was funny. The other guy comes and opens the door. I run out. They start talking and working on the door to fix it. They are having a grand time and I am just so excited to be out of the bathroom. They fix it and ask me to come into the bathroom to check. No thanks. I believe you. I won’t be closing the door all the way anymore anyway.
I hear the neighbors downstairs yelling for me. I don’t know how I figured that out. I can’t even remember what they said. This is the same man who leaned out of the window and told me in English that it was going to be okay. I ran down there and told them all thank you and shook their hands. I wanted to hug them but I didn’t know if it was appropriate. I wanted to cry again too. They asked if I wanted coffee and I didn’t, but I said “yes”. I went into their home. It was the man and his wife and the neighbor from the first floor. They all retold their stories of hearing me. The wife of this man offered me her homemade strudel that I didn’t need, but I said, “yes” to having a piece. I learned my lesson in Rome, that you never refuse an Italian woman’s food. Plus, it was their way of making me feel better and I gladly accepted those terms.
I told them I had only been here 10 minutes. They spoke in Italian/Sicilian and an occasional English word here and there. The boys that were fixing my place came down when they were done and had coffee and cake too. Of course everyone knew everyone. They young boy is trying to set me up with the older agency representative, Stefano. He keeps asking me what I’m doing that night and if I’ll be in the piazza. At this point, I’m exhausted and tell him I don’t know what my plans are yet.
The strudel maker kept saying that it was “liberazione” and we had to have cake and coffee to celebrate. I agreed!
I don’t think I’ve ever been stuck like that before at least not in a foreign country or in a situation where the chances of getting out felt very slim. I was really, really worried and didn’t know how it was going to resolve itself. I’m so thankful that man was on his balcony watching the people go by. I’m so glad that Italians are the types of people who get involved, talk loudly, and help out. Lastly, I’m so thankful to the man downstairs speaking those few words to me in English, “you are okay”. I felt so good that they brought me into their home and shared their food with me. I feel that I have friends in Cefalu and in this home away from home.
I saw my friends/neighbors tonight as I was walking to the internet cafe. They live in Palermo and just come to Cefalu on the weekends. They will be back on Friday and will call me. It felt so nice to think about someone in this little town being that nice, friendly, and sweet to me. I'm looking forward to seeing them again.

I love my hotel & I love Favignana

I love my hotel. This isn't supposed to be a travel tips blog but I have to go on for just a bit about it. If you ever come to Sicily and can make it to Favignana, which I highly recommend, you have to stay here. It's called Albergo Egadi (www.albergoegadi.it), albergo means hotel and egadi is the name of this chain of islands.
From the moment I walked in I felt like I had come to a spa. I love spas. Nothing I've been staying in has felt anywhere near spa-like. It smelled like roses in the reception area. They brought me to my room which is so cute and so girly. I think the rooms used to be pink or maybe some of the others are but mine is blue. The whole theme of the place is shabby chic/Anthropology, which I do love. I don't know if I could ever decorate this way but I always love it when I see it. My bathroom is massive and the shower is very spa-like. It has a rain shower. I was so excited to see it. I've had some pretty boring showers since I've been over here and there is nothing like being doused by hot water in a shower. I was so excited to take my first shower that I took it shortly after arriving. Unfortunately the shower head wasn't so much a rain shower as a sprinkle. There was another mini hand held shower head that had more impact. It was still a pretty good shower experience.
The hotel also has a restaurant and I decided to eat here both nights. The island is SMALL and this is supposed to be one of the best places on the island. They just serve one prix fix menu so I didn't have any say in my dinner. My first night, I had a salad with shrimp. My first course was pasta with tomatoes & a pate of sorts made from the local favorite - tuna. My second course was grilled swordfish, and ricotta filled canoli's. Yum & Yum.
My second night I started with this insane fried goody. Thin sliced swordfish that is rolled up with ham, cheese, and zucchine. It's rolled in a light coating of bread crumbs and fried. For my pasta course, I had penne with zucchine and shrimp. My second course was a mixed plate of fried items: artichoke hearts, calamari, and some sort of sardine like fish with fish eggs in it. This wasn't my favorite course. Dessert was a local cake that is bright green. It's a cake with a sweet cheese in it, probably sweeten ricotta, and then it is generously covered with a very thin and very sweet frosting like a petit four. It was pretty good. Each night they served Marsala wine with dessert since the town of Marsala is just south of Trapani. I was hoping that local Marsala wine would taste totally different, and thus better, than any I had tried before. It doesn't really. It reminds me of my grandpa and church.
Other than the great hotel and the great dinners, I haven't done much here. I was hoping for a really quiet and relaxing experience and that is what I got.
I rented a bicycle so that I could take in more of the island and it was such a good idea. I think I would have had the biggest grin on my face but I didn't want any bugs landing on my teeth. I did have the biggest grin on my face when I walked my first lap around the center of town. This place is so Cute. It's just really storybook like but not a sugary story. Just really simple and beautiful.
I was hoping to hang out at the beach a bit but the weather was a little coo-coo and not good for hanging on the beach.
This island is famous for tuna fishing and every May they have a big festival where they re-enact the "camera della morte". This involves a series of nets being put in place with the purpose of moving the tuna into the "room of death". Once all the tuna are stuck in nets there, the fisherman stab them with huge spears and bring them on board. The tuna industry isn't really supporting them anymore so they do this festival for the tourists and you can join them on the boats. I didn't witness any tuna fishing but I did watch the men bring in their nets which was a fun site although it brought me more attention than I wanted.
Today I head to Cefalu for a week. I am excited to stay put in one place and explore the sights from there.

Ecco li, ecco la, ecco mi, ecco qua qua qua (sung to the tune of "Valerie, Valeri")

I’m tired of trying to speak Italian. I want to have a conversation in English. I haven’t heard any English speaking people in awhile. There are only bus loads of German retirees. I’m not much good with the German language outside of the basics: “bitter”, “danka”, “Alles klar, Herr Kommissar”. I know that this good for learning Italian and I have had improvement since leaving Rome. After awhile though you just want to have a normal conversation.
I had a car ride to the bus stop, which turned into the train station, by a member of the hotel staff in Mazara. (Long story regarding the transport change and not interesting.) The driver/employee was really cute to the point that I felt not cute and awkward in my “travel clothes”. We tried to talk a bit and found that the other one only new a little of the others language. I kind of deflated a bit and really felt “what’s the point”. I didn’t expect him to speak English but I kind of hoped so that we could talk more “easily”. I didn’t feel like trying to talk to him. It’s hard. He actually did try, so I tried and he’s going to San Diego next summer to visit his mom and brother who are living there. We exchanged email, just in case I can go to San Diego.
This happens to me often. Sometimes I do want to try but I’ve just gotten to that point where I’m tired of trying. When I do try, I usually have an interesting conversation, although a weird one, and it turns out to be a nice experience.

I went to Erice, which is a small town just outside of Trapani. It was a bus ride away and I had been recommended to go there. The bus ride was worse than the road to Hana and worse than the ride to Positano. The road was better than both places but it was a long, steep climb, along the edge of a mountainside with frequent switchbacks. I thought I had missed my bus stop before this climb started so I moved up behind the bus driver to ask him. He said no that we were on our way there. Once I had moved up behind him, we started to chat. He couldn’t believe that I was traveling alone and keep saying that I should have someone with me. This is a common response from the men here. The women usually say “brava” and that I’m courageous. Anyway, we are climbing up this hill, and I am trying to convince myself not to throw up. I am trying to keep my eyes straight ahead. He keeps asking me questions, which should be a good distraction (it’s not). He asks me what I do for a living and I tell him and then he asks what kind of products. Chatty Cathy. I tell him consumer products. He asks is it something you eat. No. So I’m trying to figure out how to say this so I go with “Microsoft”. He doesn’t know the name. Ha! I found that funny. I thought about saying Xbox but I know that Xbox doesn’t resonate in Italy and I couldn’t bring myself to say Playstation, which they understand as a universal word for a video game console. Some stupid old loyalty to my past work wouldn’t let me do it. I ended up saying what I thought was a made up word, “tecnologico" He responded favorably and said, “si tecnologico”. I really thought I made that up and I was hoping it would fly as something close to the real Italian word, enough that he’d understand what I was saying and say the right word.
I was so entertained, but not enough to forget my stomach and motion sickness. The cure for that was found not too long before my bus ride down the mountain. Thank goodness. I was looking for French fries, which you can usually find on menus here. I couldn’t find them in this small town. I then looked for potato chips. Nope. I found a cross between the two – Freeky Fries. Potato chip like substance shaped into a French fry "with a tunnel to please me". They were the miracle cure. I made it down the mountain and back to my B&B without throwing up.
Today I am off to one of the islands you can see in the distance of the photograph, Favignana. There are three islands out there, close to the mainland. There are a couple more islands further out but I’m not going to make it there this trip. I am taking the hydrofoil over there, which should be fun. I haven’t been on one since I was like 12.
These are pictures from Erice.

There's a new kid in town

The last couple of stops have been in pretty small towns, population of about 50,000. That sounds like a pretty good size still but it's small enough to be noticed and small enough to know that you don't live there. Plus, I don't think that they are used to seeing as many tourists. Taormina has a population of 10,000 and Giardini-Naxos was 9000 but these towns see tourists all the time. They could have cared less about me.
I have gotten a lot more attention in the last two places.
When I arrived in Agrigento, shortly after checking into my B&B, I went for a walk down the main drag to see the town. I was just wandering but decided to look at my map and see where I was. As I was reviewing my position, a guy showed up and started to talk to me. I told him I only spoke a little Italian and he told me the Cathedral was behind me and up the stairs and started to rattle off some other sights for me. I said thanks and that I just wanted to know where I was currently. He asked where I was from and when I said the U.S. he then asked New York or San Francisco. When I said no to both of those options, he walked away. He kind of gave me the creeps and I couldn't figure out why. As I was walking back towards the center I realized I'd seen him before and I think it was when I first arrived and walked down the street. So then I was wondering, did he follow me or is this just random. A couple of days later, I made my way to the bus station. I had to buy a ticket to get to Mazara and thought I'd get it done first thing since everything is closed and I had nothing else to do. Well, the ticket office was closed too. I started to head back to the main drag (all of this is maybe a quarter of a mile apart). As I was walking this car starts to slow down along the road and the driver is craning his head back to look at me. I'm totally used to this here. It happens ALL the time. They have to check me out. I am wearing a rainbow colored afro after all so I'm a peculiar site. Anyway, the driver of this car continues to crane his neck around and is driving/crawling along the road. Cars are passing and honking. It's a Sunday morning. No one is out and everything is closed except for a couple of coffee shops. At this point, all the 1980's Lifetime movies I've ever seen start flooding my memory. He isn't driving a windowless van at least so if he does try to kidnap me, people will see me. His windshield isn't cracked either which was always a dead giveaway of a kidnapper. Vans without windows & a broken windshield. (I'm sure I saw some after school special when I was little and the bad guy had this car.) I decide to cut through a parking lot, thinking I'll evade him this way. He turns up the road along the parking lot. He is honking his horn and still looking back at me. I continue along the curb and walk straight towards a police officer. I look him straight in the eye and give a little "buongiorno" along with the international look of "some crazy guy is following me". I walk past him and into a coffee shop where I figure I'll order something and sit down. I've eluded him. He'll never find me here, in one of the two coffee shops in town and opened on Sunday. Well, he never did find me in there unless he came in and turned around and left. I have no idea who it was in the car. I don't know anyone in this town. Well, after I leave the coffee shop and head back down the main drag for lap number 5, I see the same crazy guy from my first day, or actually he sees me and says "ciao". Ewww. Was he the guy in the car?? Who knows. I am leaving.
Now I've been in Mazara the last two days and this town is the same size although it's more spread out. I am definitely an interesting attraction for everyone but I haven't had anyone following me. I was supposed to meet up with Antonello who is a friend of Antonello from Vienna who is from this town. He is the reason I came to this little spot. I had hoped that he would come to town while I was here and maybe I'd have a more local influence to my visit but it didn't work out. Anyway, Antonello #2 came by my hotel this morning and we made plans (in Italian) to meet at 5pm for a walk. I went to meet him and he wasn't there. So, something didn't translate or something happened. Anyway, I did my 3rd lap of the main drag and called it a night. There isn't a lot to see here but it's a nice little town.
Today I am off to Trapani for a couple of nights and then I am going to one of the Egadi islands off the west coast, Favignana. There are so many islands I would like to visit around Sicily but I don't think I'll make a small dent in the list. I haven't felt like rushing around on this trip so I will see what I see and maybe I come to visit again.

Valle dei Templi (or Valley of the Temples)

I went this morning to see this site. Now this is what I call a ruin! It was incredible and expansive. It reminded me a little bit, in scope, of Balbek in Beirut.
The photos are of the Tempio dei Dioscuri (Castor & Pollux), Temple of Hercules, and Temple of Concordia is the big one. It was built around 440bc, transformed into a Christian church and then reverted back to a temple a long time ago. I can't remember when but it was during one of the Pope Gregory's.
There really isn't a lot to say so I'll just post pictures. I also added some photos of the surrounding area which is beautiful. The whole place smelled like jasmine and there were olive and almond trees everywhere. It was really, really lovely.

Agrigento!

I arrived in Agrigento early this evening, around 5pm. My train ride across Sicily was actually really nice. I wasn't in a nasty regional train but something that they call "minuetto". It's about 3 cars and is more like an airport express train, except that I had a 3 1/2 hour trip. The ride was really pretty and the countryside was beautiful. I was in love with the view so I attempted some pictures out my train window.
I've only seen a small stretch of this town so far but what I've seen and felt, I love. I was curious how much African influence I would see along this coast. I wasn't sure if it was just certain towns, a little bit everywhere, or something unexpected. The moment I made my way onto the main street to get to my B&B, I saw a very gorgeous and tall African woman wearing a beautiful yellow headscarf and matching dress. I don't know if there is a proper name for her attire. Clothes? She was walking with her young boy who was waving to two small boys walking in front of me, who also looked like they were of African descent.
It was a pretty hot and humid day so I really just took a shower and went out to dinner. I had such a great meal. I went to a restaurant close to my B&B. I was feeling lazy and tired and still fighting this cough/flu.
I started with fried cheese! I haven't had fried cheese in awhile. It's a typical Greek dish. They didn't say "opah" when they brought it out but it didn't matter. It was so good. There is a lot of Greek influence of this area of Sicily as well as the east coast. I'm not sure if the entire area has Greek influence or just particular coastal towns. I'll know more soon.
I had grilled swordfish for my main dish. It was so good. I ate it so fast. I was really wanting more and I know it's horrible to say in a place with so many good meals but I want to go back and do a repeat of the same meal.
Tomorrow I will visit the Temple of the Valley which is a World Heritage site, like many of my recent stops. It is supposed to be phenomenal and expansive. I'll try to take good pictures.

Itchy Feet

Well, I decided it's time to move again. Although I had the option to connect with that girl from Vancouver and stay at her place in Siracusa, we haven't been able to connect. She doesn't have a phone so it's a game of email tag. I decided that there are too many other things I want to do and see so it's time to go.
Siracusa is a nice little spot. In particular, I stayed in the area called Ortygia. It's really cute with lots of narrow winding streets and friendly people. I haven't been feeling too great the last couple of days so I didn't do a lot here. I spent a lot of time wandering the narrow streets and getting some sun on my face.

I've sampled the local gelato (really good), orange granita, and had some local dishes. Today for lunch I had pasta with a pistachio cream sauce. Yum.
On the topic of food, I've noticed a new addition to my bread since Giardini-Naxos...sesame seeds. I'm totally intrigued by this addition. I don't know very much about the journey of food and plants to various countries. I find it really interesting too. If anyone knows of a good book that talks about this history, I would love to read it.
I also made my way to a major archeological site located here - Parco Archeologio della Neapolis. There is a huge Greek theater here from the 5th-century-BC.
Another site here is the cathedral that was formally the Temple of Athena. It was converted to a church when St. Paul was on his evangelizing mission here. It's very interesting to see the temple within the walls of the church.


Tomorrow I will grab a very slow train from here back to Catania (nuts) and then on to Agrigento on the West coast. There is another massive ruin there and I'm excited to see the African influence that is a part of this area.

Hanging out on a volcano

I left Taormina & Giardini-Naxos on Tuesday. I was a little sad to leave Taormina. It smelled of vanilla and cake.
My next stop was Catania. I had originally booked four nights there. I didn’t want to move constantly and I thought it would be a good city to use as a base for exploring other places. In particular, I had planned to visit Mt. Edna. Well one of my fellow students, Young-Ho (also known as Tex) had visited Sicily over Pasqua and told me to skip Catania. I tried to find out why I should skip it but he couldn’t really give me any information. Maybe it was a language barrier issue. Our Italian teacher was part of this conversation and she joined in saying it wasn’t that bad and would be good for a base to see Mt. Edna. So, I decided to adjust the plan slightly and changed my reservation to two days in Catania.
Pretty much from the moment I arrived in Catania, I wanted to leave. Tex was right. I realized once I was in Taormina that you could do trips to Mt. Edna from there too. The only reason you should visit Catania is if you are a big fan of St. Agatha. Other than that, it’s a pretty busy, crowded little city. I was thrilled that I would be at Mt. Edna my entire second day.
I headed up to Mt. Edna as part of a tour group that my B&B owner booked for me. He was great, by the way. He was very helpful and cute to boot. Anyway, it was an all day trip that included a hike, a visit to a cave, and viewing lava fields. The mountain is incredibly huge. I had no idea that it was so large and so close to these coastal towns. I was really surprised the first time I saw a glimpse of it when I was in Giardini-Naxos.
My tour group consisted of 6 of us plus our guide. There was Stefan from Germany, two French women, and two German women. I never caught their names. Outside of one small detail, the trip was really nice. The small detail was the overwhelming smell of celery & body order the moment the four women got into the car. I was so overwhelmed by the smell that I couldn’t help but cough. I opened my window and for the remainder of the trip, I had my nose out the window like a little dog. Is this why dog’s do this? Do we smell to them?
Besides the unpleasant order, which I deduced was coming from the German woman sitting behind me that unfortunately wore a sleeveless shirt, it was an interesting trip.
The trip could have been shorter but there’s a whole lack of organization issue here. After all the stops to pick everyone up, get lunch, and get coffee, we made it to our first stop, which was a view of the mountain. At this view is a little chapel with the Stations of the Cross set up outside of it. In one of the eruptions, the lava came all the way down to the mountain and through the wall of the chapel and…stopped. It was pretty crazy. Woo-woo.

Our second stop was to visit the ice caves. The caves were formed by previous eruptions, and then locals created holes in the ground above them to catch snow into the cave. They used it as a refrigerator before they existed.

Our next stop was to have a picnic lunch at the 1750m point. There’s also a little hut there that has souvenirs and a restaurant. Stefan, the German, is also a Geologist, which was very exciting although his English wasn’t so great and he couldn’t speak Italian. I would have liked to hear more from him. He went into the little souvenir shop and came out with two orange-sized rocks filled with crystals. The first one was a crazy electric blue color and the second was a beautiful pink. He was very excited about them because the price was so great. I was shocked by the color of the blue one. I’ve never seen blue crystals that color. I asked him where they were from, thinking that the store was selling crystals and rocks from all over the world. I’ve been to loads of rock shops (I know – dork) and they always carry rocks from around the world. He didn’t understand me (and I wasn’t understanding him). He kept saying, in his very think German accent, “magma”. We finally were able to communicate that they were from Mt. Edna! I went running for the shop, along with the other four ladies. The crystals were gorgeous and there was a beautiful green one in addition to the other two colors. I wanted to buy all three colors. I held a pink and blue one in each hand and then remembered I had to lug a suitcase for another three weeks. How wise is it to buy three rocks to add to my already heavy suitcase? Not very wise, rats. I bought the blue one since I had never seen that color before and I already have pink and green crystals. It’s a nice souvenir.
After the shop we went for a hike up a crater. The weather was fantastic all day. It was probably 24 Celsius and so it felt pretty warm even up on the mountain. When we got to the top edge of the crater, the wind was blowing like mad. I have no idea what the speed was but it felt strong enough to blow over a small child.
The last thing we saw was the location of the 2002 eruption. This was pretty incredible to see, maybe because it was so new. It was one enormous lava field.
It was an interesting experience and made me think that I should visit Mt. St. Helens when I go home. I’ve never been up there. I almost went when I was little but my brother-in-law and sister kept telling stories of Big Foot on the way up and I got really scared that Big Foot was going to get us so we turned around and went home.
I left Catania the next day, hooray! I took the bus to Siracusa (Syracuse), which is about an hour south along the coast. When I got here, I decided to stay at least two nights. It’s a great little spot. I’m staying in an area called Ortygia, which is so cute. I might stay here another two or three days. I met a girl from Vancouver, BC on Sunday night in Catania who is also coming here tomorrow. She’s rented a villa for three weeks and is traveling alone after having traveled with her boyfriend and his friend for the last couple of months. She invited me to join her. I might do this although I still need to connect with her here. It could be interesting and I wouldn’t mind staying here another couple of days. There are some great cities to explore nearby.

Planes, trains, and automobiles

A bus, a boat, a train, a ferry/train, a train, a taxi and I am here. Good grief it was a long day of travel. I didn’t really calculate how long it would take to get here. I just knew I was going and that was about it. Here is Taormina/Giardini-Naxos on the west coast of Sicily. It is definitely a very cute spot and I can see how it would be packed in the summer. It is very quiet right now especially in Giardini-Naxos where I’m staying. The two towns are very close to each other and make for an easy visit from one to the other.
I had a really interesting journey getting here. As long as it was, I never really minded until the last 15 minutes when it hit me how tired I was from traveling.
I started with my boat ride from Positano to Salerno. The boat is the fastest way to get to Salerno from Positano and Salerno is the city with the trains to Sicily. My other choice would have been to go back north to Sorrento but I wanted to keep going south and see something else. The boat ride is a little over an hour. I started chatting with one of the boat workers. I had pointed to some land way out in the sea and asked if it was Sicily. He laughed. Nope. I guess Italy is bigger than I thought. We started talking and had a really nice chat. He pointed out sights along the way. A lot of the castle towers along the coast are privately owned. The government sold them at one time when they were in need of cash. We talked about the Toro tuna fishing issue off the coast of Italy. Many Japanese are buying up the fish but it sounds like the Italians can still buy some locally at a good price. One of the workers was a former tuna fisherman. We talked about the state of economics in Italy and how hard it’s been moving from the Lira to the Euro. I had noticed a big change in the Italians in Rome and figured it was because of this and everyone I ask about it seems to say that this transition is the problem. I’d like to do some research on my own about it. I might talk more about this later. It’s been on my mind since I arrived here. Lastly we talked about electricity, power, and alternative choices. Electricity is very expensive in Italy and apparently they buy it from France and Switzerland. There is some wind power being generated in the south but I honestly don’t know how much power that creates. I’ve heard that solar is very expensive and he mentioned that in these tourist towns they have a hard time with the idea of changing the view of their city with the addition of solar panels on rooftops. The have a bit of an image they are trying to maintain. It was a pretty interesting and broad conversation. It was all in English by the way too. He spoke really well and wanted to practice and kept asking me to clarify words. I’m curious if he did something else in another life.
Once I reached Salerno, I had some time to wander before my train was scheduled to depart. It was really just enough time to check email and get lunch. I stopped into a random spot called Pinocchio’s. I chose it randomly but then realized it was in the guidebook too. I don’t know if I would have stopped based on the summary they gave but my experience was GREAT! The owner came up to me and rattled off a bunch of Italian. I didn’t really know what he was saying and caught maybe every 3rd or 4th word. Whatever he said, I decided to just agree to it and minutes later out came my lunch. First I had a plate of mussel and clam pasta in a light olive oil and tomato sauce. Next I had a spinach and ricotta pie of some sort. The crust actually seemed like a pizza crust so maybe it was like a calzone but in the shape of a pie. Last, he brought out a plate of fried sardines and a plate with roasted potatoes and eggplant. The whole thing was so good and when I was done and asked for the check he shrugged his shoulders and said 10, like he was just throwing a number out. Good stuff.
I headed to the train station after lunch and once the train finally arrived, 35 minutes late, and we departed I quickly found out that I was in the wrong car. Through a mixture of Italian and hand signals I found out that half of the cars were going onto Palermo and half were going to Siracusa. I needed to be on the portion going to Siracusa and I was on the Palermo half. Some nice men had heaved my suitcase onto the rack above me and they decided for me that I’d stay put until San Giovanni, when they would get off and remove my bag for me and I’d switch trains then. I appreciated everyone making the decisions for me. It was one less thing to think about that day.
When we got to San Giovanni, they took my bag down and we all got out. I ran to the other end of the train, about seven cars, and jumped into the correct car. I got to my seat and was all out of breath thinking the train would pull away any second like it usually does in each station. What I didn’t know was this was the station where we separate into two trains and I had some time. It actually took a long time because not only did we separate, but this is where we were loaded onto a ferry to cross over to Sicily. It was pretty interesting being in a train and being loaded onto a ferry. Once we were loaded on and the train/ferry pulled out of dock, you could head up to the deck in typical ferry fashion and watch the view. There was a nice old man from Siracusa who had helped me get onto the car in San Giovanni. He came by and got me and led the way up to the deck. He was pretty cute, showing me around and he took my picture on the deck. There was no way I was telling him that we have ferries in Seattle. They don’t carry trains but they all work the same.
We kept trying to talk a little and every time he would go to say something to me he would swing the back of his hand out at me. I do this a lot when I talk too. I totally get it. However, he kept swinging his hand right at my chest. Yikes! He whacked me a couple of times and then after that I became totally flinchy. I started to put my hands up in front of me in preparation for him whacking me. I probably looked a little odd, positioning my body away from him and holding my hands up in front of my chest, pretending to pray or say namaste.
After a few minutes up on deck and taking in the tour from my new friend, we headed back to the train car in preparation for disembarking at Messina. It was only about a 30-minute journey across but it takes them forever to get you on and off. In Messina, we got a new crew and it was a good thing because the steward told me that I was the next stop. This was important information because it was now really dark out and I couldn’t see a station stop to save my life. He said it was about twenty minutes away. Before I had received all this information I was busy trying to figure out how I would know this on my own. They don’t announce station stops on this train. I had pulled out my guidebook and looked at the map of Italy. I noticed that the mainland was visible across the sea and it appeared on the map that shortly after the mainland ended, I should be in Taormina. This was my only sign for knowing where to get off…that is before the steward came along.
So, I had my bags and I was standing at the train door waiting for my stop. I wasn’t sure how long they would stop here. Some stations you have to be fast or you are out of luck. We came to a stop. Yippee. Finally. I was exhausted. Once the train stopped, I opened the door and jumped out. As I jumped out I looked around and didn’t see much of anything. I knew I was going to a small town but this was odd. No sign or anything. I then noticed that there were tracks on the other side of the platform that I was on but no way to get across to the station. That’s weird. It was about at that moment that I saw a train employee getting off at another car and he sees me and starts to yell at me, “NO, NO, NO” and points for me to get back on the train. Yikes! I fly back up and onto the train and the door closes behind me. Oh crap. I was totally freaking out. I thought maybe I messed something up when I opened the door. We were still sitting at this stop and not moving. I thought I was in big trouble. A steward came down the train towards me and he looked really mad. I tell him I’m sorry and that I thought it was Taormina. He answers so casually and light, in English, that it’s the next stop and this is just where we switch tracks. Oh! I don’t think he’s the one that yelled at me. That also explains why we’re still here. I really thought I had messed up the train somehow. Whew. We start to move again and then quickly come to a stop again, as something is wrong with the tracks. I didn’t do it! We get moving shortly after the last stop and finally come to Taormina. I can see the station sign. It’s official.
I take a taxi to the hotel and decide that because I’m so tired and the town appears to be closed for the night, I’ll just go to sleep. I crawl into bed and find myself being lulled to sleep with the rocking sensation that’s been with me all day.

The Amalfi Coast is competing with Palm Springs as my happy place.

The Amalfi Coast is competing with Palm Springs as my happy place.
I arrived in Positano via the train from Rome to Napoli and then the local train, “Circumvesuviana” to Sorrento and then the bus to Positano. I had to ask for directions a few times to find my pensione. Some young girls were pointing the way for me and even helped me carry my bag down a handful of the 1000’s of steps I had to take to reach the pensione. They really just held the handle but I appreciated the camaraderie and team effort. When I got to the last little bit I was dragging my bag down the steps. It was a major effort to reach the place. I almost brought my mom here on our trip and I’m glad it didn’t work out. This is not the place for someone fresh out of knee replacement surgery.
Once I arrived, and saw my terrace and sea view, I was instantly so joyous. I almost cried on the bus ride from Sorrento to Positano. The area makes me so happy. Plus, it was a gorgeous day and that really helped boost my mood. Yes, crying out of overwhelming happiness.
After I got here, I instantly threw on “summer” clothes and headed out. It was probably around the low 70’s. I’m above Spiaggia del Fornillo, one of the beaches here. I decided to head that way. After many steps down (rats, I have to go back up these) I arrived at the beach and a little restaurant right on the sand. I think there are typically many more open in the summer but I am ahead of the season. It’s good for getting a deal but bad for – guess what? Construction. I’m not going to discuss that topic anymore though.
I ended my first night with dinner up the street from my place. I hadn’t eaten practically all day so I was starving. I also was ready to forgo any pasta and start eating some seafood. I ordered a plate of grilled sardines, although I really think they were anchovies. I tried to clarify with the waiter if they were sardines or anchovies because the Italian part of the menu said anchovies but the English part said, “sardines”. I always read both because the English translation isn’t usually very accurate. I think they were anchovies mostly based on how small they were but most of the sardines I’ve had have been in Beirut with the exception of the one night I convinced Karmen and Molly to order sardines with me in Seattle. Whatever they were, they were good. I also had zucchini in olive oil and mint and profiteroles with chocolate. Yummy.
Day two and I decided I would probably take the boat to the town of Amalfi. I had seen Positano already and I had a task to accomplish. Remember how I dragged my suitcase down a few stairs? Well, I needed to buy a new suitcase. I tore a huge hole in the bottom of my bag along with some other small tears. Now, I have to explain. This isn’t my suitcase that I brought from home. That bag was too big for moving around easily so I left it in Rome with John from Canada and I bought this bag from a street vendor in Rome. I debated buying from the vendor or an actual store and after looking at prices and bags at both places I decided that this cheap bag would be fine. I wasn’t checking it onto an airplane after all. The bag didn’t even last a day. I have to stop buying suitcases on every trip I take but I can’t seem to take up space in the one suitcase I bring to pack another suitcase for later use. I think this is it though.
Amalfi was nice although I didn’t feel like I did anything of substance. I don’t think there is much to do besides shop, eat, go to the beach, and see the one church. I did 3 out of the 4. My boat ride back was really lovely and much faster than my ride to Amalfi.
I got back to my room and hung out a bit with my new friend Silent Bob. Silent Bob is an orange cat that I’m assuming lives here. I named him Silent Bob because the first time we met, he opened his mouth to meow and nothing came out. He hasn’t said anything since. I thought that maybe I should have given him an Italian name like silenzio Roberto or arancia but since he doesn’t speak I don’t think it matters. I won’t pet him though. I remember all too clearly Jill’s story of when she first moved to Italy and got ringworm from petting a cat. I too do not know how to say “ringworm” in Italian and my cat impersonation isn’t nearly as good as Jill’s.
I finished my second night off with dinner at another spot on the hill. I wasn’t very hungry but figured I’d have a little something. I ate too much. I started with a caprese salad that was big enough for two or three people. The mozzarella cheese was different than I’ve had before too. It was more of a loaf shape instead of a ball and it tasted different. Almost like it wasn’t fresh, which is typical for this salad but it also wasn’t totally dry like American mozzarella cheese. It kind of had the consistency of feta. I decided to try this typical Calabrian pasta dish for my main course and holy cow. It was so incredibly good. It was fish ravioli with mussels and broccoli. I was so full but I had to eat it all. It was so good.

My morning started very early and was very exciting. At about 5:45 I could hear some rooster crowing in the distance. A few minutes later the thunder started, followed by the biggest storm I think I’ve witnessed yet on this trip. I had some really crazy ones in Rome too: thunder, lightening, and crazy downpours. This one was similar but I really couldn’t sleep during it and I kept getting up to look out the window. The thunder sounded less like “god moving his furniture” and more like cannons firing. I do know what this sounds like too. One would go off every day at noon on the hill above Trastevere. I don’t know why. The lightening was insane too. It seemed to be coming down all around me and I could see very clearly the zig zag of each bolt. One bolt seemed to be so close that I felt temporarily blinded by the brightness of it. The storm ended at some point but a new one came in around 7am and it started all over again. It definitely feels like the calm after the storm now. There is a bit of sun and blue sky again. I hope it doesn’t rain during the day because I’m assuming that all these stairs and streets basically become waterfalls.

Ciao Roma!

I leave Rome today for a new adventure. I am heading south. I will go to Positano first and have three lovely nights at a little seafront Pensione. After that I'm heading to Sicily. I don't know how long I'll be there. My original plan was to have about two weeks there and two weeks in Sardinia. As I've been thinking about where I want to go, my time in Sicily is growing. So, I may not go to Sardinia at all. However, I'm not making any decisions right now. I'm going to see how things go and enjoy each town I visit. If I want to stay longer, I will. This is a big step for me - not planning it.
I might also meet up with Antonello who is the owner/husband of Barbara from of the apartment I stayed at in Vienna. He is from Sicily and his parents still live there in a small fishing village on the west coast. He might come for a visit and show me around. He's also hooking me up with a friend of Barbara's who owns a B&B in Palermo. I love the direction things are going so I'm just trying to go with the flow. Things work out better that way.

Week in Review

It feels like a lot happened this week. Tuesday was the big sightseeing tour and hair salon visit that I already reported on.
On Tuesday night, the Canadian – John, came over to my place and made me dinner. Ahhhhh. How cute is that? Actually, this is kind of his thing. He does it for everybody and basically he was hungry, didn’t want to stay home, and didn’t want to go out to eat. It was really nice to have someone make me dinner. It’s been a long time since that has happened so I really tried to enjoy it. I had heard stories about how great his cooking is and how he has gone over to various student’s houses and cooked for them. I have to remember my audience. He cooked a bag of dry pasta and tossed it with a jar of plain tomato sauce that he “doctored” with pepper and basil. It was so not want I wanted – I had pasta at lunch. It was also really plain. He also did something I didn’t understand. He added water to the tomato sauce and the cooked pasta when he tossed it. So the bland tomato sauce got watered down. I was a bit in shock when I saw this happen. I chocked it up to something that he saw his mom or grandmother do and he thought this is what you did to pasta sauce. He probably didn’t know that it was his mother’s way of making the sauce go farther. I’m just guessing. Anyway it was nice of him to do this and I ate a big bowl of pasta with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
On Wednesday, I met up with the usual group for drinks. We hung out in the Piazza Navona area. At midnight, I reported that it was time for Cinderella to head home and I called it a night. Thursday was my last day of school and I wanted to make sure I had some sleep. I was really excited for my last day of school. I think I’m just ready to move onto some other adventures. In the end, I really enjoyed my time at the school. I enjoyed the teacher and meeting the other students. I even relaxed and enjoyed my lessons. It never seemed easier but once I stopped over thinking it, I had more fun.
I celebrated my last day of school by attending the Wine of Italy activity at school that evening. My bus ride to the school was probably the worst one I’ve had. I’ve taken the bus to and from school every day and from three different neighborhoods so I’ve experienced a lot of interesting rides. I had thought my morning trip to school was the last time I’d make the journey but I had forgotten about the evening wine class. The bus was more packed than I’d ever seen it. I got on at the back door and figured, “okay, we’re full and no one else can get on”. Why do I ever think this way? On each additional stop on the route to school we added a good 3-4 people at my end of the bus. I couldn’t see what was happening in the front. I could barely breath. I was having flashbacks of the Billy Idol concert when I was in high school. I rushed the stage, upon Billy’s insistence that he was lonely, and found myself squashed against a mob of people. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t breath. Billy’s guitarist, Steve Stevens, even tried reaching his arm down to me to pull me out of there but I couldn’t put my arms up to reach him. You know I wanted to be pulled on stage too. I definitely tried to move.
I found myself on the bus, thinking I’ll just get off at the next stop and walk. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get to the door and exit if my life depended upon it. I was trapped between two men, whom I became intimately involved with along the journey. They smelled like a mix of sawdust, leather, cigarettes, and drunk.
I kept breathing through my nose trying to prevent any chance of tasting this smell. I kept praying people would get out at each stop but no one was moving. I gave up hope as we got closer to Termini. Everyone was going to that stop. When we arrived, we spilled out of the bus, and I gasped for fresh air.
Thank god that was my last trip to Termini for now. Unfortunately I have to make the trip one more time on Tuesday to catch the train to Napoli.
Onto school and the wine class. I figured this would be a nice little night of sitting around a table discussing the various wines and tasting them all. Nope. It was a lecture, all in Italian of course, on the history of wine in Italy. Mamma Mia. I was in and out of listening and trying to understand the discussion, praying that I’d be rewarded with some wine when the professor was done talking. When he finished, 90 minutes later, we got some wine. Geez.
After the lecture I headed to a chain restaurant (I know but it’s good) called Insalate Ricca. They have an abundance of different salads, which is hard to come by here. I had only been once before and it was so good. I really needed a salad too, especially after my double dose of pasta on Tuesday. I plopped down and already knew what I wanted. I ordered right away and sat and waited, eavesdropping on the conversation of a couple of Brits next to me. They were leaving town the next day. Every time the server came back over to me for whatever reason, we’d chat a little about whatever in Italian. It was more of him talking and me understanding and answering with one or two words. He came back to the Brits table next to me and gave them some complimentary Lemoncello. They stared at it and gasped and mentioned how they couldn’t possibly drink it. I decided to jump in here. I told them what it was and how great it is. We started to chat about what they were doing in Rome and why I was here. They are traveling the world, endlessly it seemed from the tales they told. They were leaving the next day for Tokyo. As we chatted they confessed that they thought I was Italian by my conversations with the server. HA! Fooled you.
It made me feel pretty good though since I really don’t feel like I know a whole lot. I thought maybe I had even fooled the server until he came back over later and asked me if where I was from and that he knew I was an Italian student. Nuts.
On Friday, my first day without being an “official” student, I spent the morning lazing about my flat. I finished another book, did some messing about on the computer, and made a phone call to get a waxing appointment scheduled. It was time. I couldn’t put it off any longer. My fellow student, from Australia, gave me the name and number of this place and told me that they spoke English. Great! I gave them a call. Parla Inglese? Nope. Crap. Okay, I can figure this out. So I begin trying to explain that I’d like an appointment to get waxed. No problem. I want to get a wax from Sophia. She tells me that there isn’t a Sophia working there. Shoot. I hang up and read my text message again. Oh, Sonia. I call back. Yup me again. I ask for an appointment with Sonia. Sure, no problem. Today? Sure but only because that is easier to agree to than trying to negotiate for another day. Oh, and I want to somehow tell you that I don’t just want a bikini wax, I need my legs waxed too. I ask her to wait a minute while I look up the word in my dictionary. Got it – Gamba. I tell her that I need to have my legs waxed. She bursts into a fit of giggles. Crap. No? That’s not right. She tells me she understands in between giggles and says she’ll see me at 3pm. Oh well, I’ll just explain with hand gestures when I get there.
I ask for the location. I get bits and pieces of where they are located and I have an appointment booked for 3pm. I get off the phone and realize that (a) I only have part of the name of the salon and (b) they didn’t ask for my name to book the appointment. I’m thinking that they either think I’m not going to show up or that they just put down “American” in the schedule book next to 3pm. I pull out my map and look for this piazza near Piazza di Spagna where the salon is supposed to be. I’m hoping that between the letters and words she gave me, I can figure out where this place is located. I find it. Yeah. I make my way to the salon and when I get there the woman from the phone greets me and tells me she spoke with me this morning. She takes me to Sonia. Sonia is great, and also doesn’t speak English so I get to practice more Italian. She does a great job and asks if I want anything else waxed. Oh yeah! Eyebrows, please! She comes over and begins tweezing. OUCH! This is what they did to me in Beirut. What about waxing the eyebrows? My hair is so thick that each hair that is pulled out feels like a small tree with roots down to my sinuses. The good news is that she finishes quickly. I’m in and out of there in 30 minutes.
Friday night was a little last hurrah with some fellow students. Dinner and drinks and hit the clubs with the kids. I’ve got lots of sightseeing to do over the weekend and the weather is supposed to finally be AMAZING.