Sicily, 8 Days, Leg 1 of our adventure
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Italy, Sicily day 8 Tindari, Messina, and off to Salerno (and oops, Catania)
In Messina we take a ferry to Villa San Giovanni, the mainland, and a train from there to Salerno. We drop our Volvo off in Messina.
Tindari
On the way to Messina I planned to visit Tindari, Home of a Greek-Roman archeological site. It is also the home of a Cathedral of the Black Madonna. The archeological sites interests me far more, though the legend of the Black Madonna is worth a read, here. A restaurant owner also suggested we visit Montalbano Elicona for it’s monolithic rocks, but we do not have time for both.
Tindari’s legendary Sand Spit
The road to Tindari from Piraino is a slow one. It is windy and in one place the main road is closed to do a mud slide. The alternate road is what should be a one lane road used for two lanes of traffic. Luckily that stretch of road is lightly travelled. There are numerous tunnels and many areas where road work narrows an already narrow road.
The Coast Road to Tindari
Tindari sits atop a hill overlooking a bay and a legendary spit of land (see “Black Madonna” above) Our NAV system took us right to the parking lot at the base of the hill. A talkative fellow approached as I looked for the parking ticket kiosk. “Parking here is free. Do you want to take a bus to the top? You should eat at “the Greek” for lunch. it’s the restaurant right over there. It has very good food. Where are you from?” This guy was genuinely friendly and aside for being a barker for the restaurant, he was interesting to talk to while Ellen sorted out what she needed from our bags in the car.
We chose to walk to the top (why not, we’ve walked everywhere else?) and skipped the bus. For the first half or two thirds of the hike up, there is no view. You pas houses, some with inquisitive dogs. Every now and then a local buzzes by. The bus passed us once going up and again going back down.
Closer to the top a dramatic view opens up only to close out around the next bend. Near the top we encountered the first row of vendors selling trinkets; some selling fruit and nuts. It is hard to pass up a free sample. Once you take a sample, the hook is set. If you say we’ll see you on the way down, they own you. We did buy some nuts on the way down only to find the quality varied enormously from nut to nut. My recommendation? Avoid buying anything from these folks. Get nuts and fruit from a supermercato. We did not take photos of the vendors, we did not want to draw attention to ourselves.
Tindari’s Cathedral
Tindari’s Cathedral sits prominently atop the hill. It is visible from miles around. To me it is too modern to be interesting. The piazza that fronts the church has a commanding view of the sea and Tindari’s famous spit of sand. We lingered soaking in the sunshine dancing on the sea as a sailboat slowly drifted by below. We were both hungry, but thought we’d check out the ruins first.
The walk to the ruins is along a short street lined with pizzerias and trinket vendors. Both were tranquil; we were not accosted once here. Like most things in Italy, you pay to visit the ruins. The fee is small. The money goes toward preservation and improvements. You walk right into the top of the amphitheater. The stone bench seats are fenced off. The Greeks placed their theaters high in the hills and at the shore; close to their gods. I think performances were for the gods more than for the audience. Wasn’t a Roman Emperor a god? Greek plays are performed in the theater to this day. The amphitheater dates to the 4th century BC.
The Sicilians have let plans consume the amphitheater. I have no idea why.
Ancient Mosaic Tiles
The trail past the amphitheater takes you down to a road that leads to the ruins. Inside the low walls to the left are nearly intact mosaics; works or art in themselves. The Greek arches ahead are the remnants of the Basicila. The City of Tindari was founded in about 400BC by Dionysus I, “the Tyrant of Syracuse”. Only the ruins of the city remain today.
A Glass Urn from around 4 BC
A quick Bite
And a Birra
Messina ?
It was fun walking these ancient paths on a gloriously sunny day in Northern Sicily. The views are stunning. Hunger eventually got the better of us. We went back to Restaurante Tyndaris. We shared a beer and a heated Panini then headed off to Messina. Now the GPS took us to the autostrada and we made good time to Messina. There was no way to enter the street address in the nav system, Via XXVII Luglio 34, Messina. What to do with XXVII? We tried everything 26, XXVII, twenty six: nothing worked. My trusty Italian phone took us right to the address! Well almost, it has an accuracy issue and the version of google maps is horrendous. I’ll check for an upgrade soon.
We found the address. A V-shaped floor to ceiling glass wall with a door, a series of buzzers, and nobody. Out of my set of folders I pulled “Caroli Guest House” and called the owner. The woman who answered in Italian, hesitated then passed the phone to her friend who spoke better English than my Italian. They’d be right down. In five minutes time, they were. The apartment was exactly as presented online. It was clean, comfortable, and perfect for us to make connections with the ferry to Villa San Giovanni tomorrow to connect by train to Salerno. The women were very helpful pointing out their favorite local restaurants (no, not family run), where the supermarket was, and where to catch the ferry across the Straits of Messina.
I left Ellen in the apartment and drove off to drop the car off at Europcar. The NAV system took me right to their Messina office in a seedy industrial area. The office was closed! Nobody was there and a sign read: open Saturdays 9:00 – 13:00. Monday-Friday stated hours, Sunday was not mentioned. Not Good! I would not be able to drop the car off until Monday?
Catania ? Yes, Catania!
I called europcar. The representative was not very sympathetic. “You missed the drop-off time!”, well, yeah. “You can drop the car off Monday”, well, no. “You could drop it off in Catania”, that’s not happening “What if I leave the car where it is” silence on the line for a heartbeat then, “It will be stolen. Drop the car off in Catania, it is the best”. I hung up, realizing that I probably didn’t check the drop-off hours. Crap. I called again to see if I could get a more sympathetic ear. Nope, I heard the same story: Catania. “It’s only 40 km away and you can take the bus back” right.
I called Ellen, described the situation, and suggested that I’d drive to Catania and come back by bus. She wanted to come along. OK, we were off to Catania’s airport to fine Europcar. Trust is a funny thing. That 40km estimate was 110km by our GPS. It took an hour and a half to get to the airport. Traffic wasn’t too bad, but it was going crazy fast with lots of trucks. I was asked in a “white knuckle” sort of way to “please, slow down”.
Ellen was great at spotting signs to Europcar. I would not have found it so easily myself. They accepted the car. I asked where I might pick up a bus to Messina. The first person I asked just made a “tsch” sound. This is a typical Sicilian way of saying “it’s not going to happen” or “it didn’t happen”. I had heard that just once before in one of the Montalbano episodes. This chilled me. We are now 110 km from the Messina to Villa San Giovanni ferry. Not good. You know the definition of insanity, right? I asked another fellow, hoping for a different answer or at least not a “tsch”.
Fellow number two said, “I’m not sure, but most busses stop right in front of the airport, right over there (pointing toward who knows what over “there”). By now Ellen and I are both starving. All we had eaten today was a half sandwich. We were subdued by this situation. There was no blame, no why didn’t you blah blah. We resigned ourselves to finding a bus or train back to Messina and headed in “that general direction”. Surprisingly, right over there was the main entrance to the airport AND a bunch of busses queued along the walkway. With some difficulty we found a bus schedule that included Catania to Messina. A bus would be leaving in an hour. It was now about 19:30. Cool, we fount the biglietteria and purchased two “semplice” tickets. Now for some food.
The Best Pizza
Airport food is not the best, unless you happen to be in Catania. There was my favorite pizza place in Arlington Mass where I’d buy pizza by the slice after school. The crust was done perfectly, with numerous very small spots of char on the bread, a fantastic combination of cheeses, and just the right amount of sauce. I’ve had good pizza, bad pizza, home made pizza, “the best” pizza, but none has ever come close to that old Arlington pizza by the slice. None, until now. I bought a single slice of Margherita Pizza from Sfizio and was in heaven. This was exactly how pizza should be. The taste, doneness, texture, cheeses, sauce; all were perfect. It made the evening’s disaster worth it (well not really, but at least something went better than planned). We ate though Ellen’s first choice was disappointing: all bread. Her second choice was really good.
Messina !
We found the kiosk for the Messina bus, boarded, and took a ride back to Messina. Luck was with us. The bus drove right by Carini Guest House. The bus had been making random stops for other people, I hopped up and asked if he could stop for us right here. I said this in Italian somehow. The answer? “no” We went to the bus terminus, two blocks further down. No Problem.
Back at Carini House, I check my notes and found that I had booked the train from Villa San Giovanni at 8:45 tomorrow morning. To be safe we’d have to take the 7:20 ferry. Counting back in time we set our alarms for 5AM. It was now 1:30 AM. Tomorrow would be a crazy day.
Italy, Sicily day 7 Cefalu, Just Be & Be, and Piraino
The Beach between Centro Storico and the newer residential area
Cefalu
One of Many Piazzas in Cefalu
We got our signals crossed the next morning. We thought Laura would be by at noon, she dropped by at 11 while we were packing. Graciously, she said she’d come back at noon. She also offered to have her husband take me to our car on his scooter and have me follow him back to the apartment going around “The Rock”. Memories of XO tours Vietnam collided in my head, good memories.
Centro Storico: Typical Cefalu
Old Town looking toward New Town
True to her word, Laura and her husband arrived at noon and I had a fun motor bike ride through old town to my car. Negotiating Cefalu for a novice could be just as challenging as Vietnam. Laura’;s family has lived in Cefalu for generations. I assume her husband has as well. He was excellent at negotiating the cars and pedestrians, stopping a number of times, here and there to greet friends . Cefalu is full of one way streets and a ZTL zone. GPS is useless in the town. It is confusing at best without a “guide”. We drove back around the rock with me following closely behind, driving into the narrow pedestrian filled streets of old town. It was fun and challenging. We parted with Laura and her husband with the typical Italian parting: two kisses on either cheek and “ciaos” all around. We really enjoyed Larua, it would have been fun for us to get to know them better. Then again, we were in Cefalu for a few days then gone. I wish we could have stayed longer.
We Counted 64 Tunnels between Cefalu and Piraino!
Familiar with the Italian Nav System, I punched in Piraino and off we went. The GPS guided us out of town and onto the autostrada with ease. Italian roads are typically in very good condition, though there is constant road work. Italian drivers take the speed limit as a suggestion. As I drove the 100 km from Cefalu to Piraino, my speed slowly inched up as I was constantly being passed, sometimes by traffic going 40 kph faster. Often at 120kph or 140kph Ellen would suggest I slow down. Most times I did. The Italians have no trouble closing one direction of a highway for 10 or 20 kilometers. The funnel traffic into one lane, then guide traffic across the median and into one of on-coming lanes, which had been cleared of traffic. This leads to situations where the speed limit can go from 110kph to 40kph in a reasonable amount of time, but only if you’re aware of what is going on. Over a 100km stretch there might be five of these.
A Panoramic View from a Ridge Crest in Northern Sicily
Tunnels, Sicily has a vast number of tunnels. I counted 64 of them between Cefalu and Piraino alone. Some were short, many were very long, and some had oncoming traffic in the left lane due to highway repair. Northern Sicily is very mountainous; the drive is beautiful.
As we approached Piraino, we used the instructions Chantal had given us to locate Just Be & b. Google maps cannot locate the property. Just Be & b is located over a ridge close to the top of the rise overlooking the sea. As we climbed up toward the small town of Piraino, Ellen grew more and more suspicious. “Is this really where we’re going?” “Where are we staying”. When the old town of Piraino came into view around a turn, Ellen was half surprised and half worried that we were staying somewhere in town. “Are there restaurants?” or “Where are we going to eat?” Piraino is small. There are good restaurants in the surrounding hills, but they are isolated and hard to find.
We topped the rise and descended on a very narrow road. I had scouted this location with Google maps and drove right by the location Google had set for “Just Be & b”. Clearly GPS was again outright wrong. The road widened out and turned just ahead of a very well maintained house. A husband and wife sat on a patio watching come down the road with disinterest. “This cannot be the place”, I thought. We turned the corner and both saw the white gate and pink house that mark the B&B. We’re here. Ellen was still not sure this is where she wanted to just Be & b. I rang the bell and waited for some time trying not to be rude and ring the bell a second time. A woman approached welcoming and asked if I was Ron. “Yes”, the gate opened and as I dutifully carried our bags to our room, Ellen had a tour of the property and got to know the owner’s mom. The owner is a Swiss German whom we met sometime later.
Relaxing at Just Be & b, Piraino, Sicily
We sat admiring the view as a beer, prosecco, and fruit arrived on a cart. The room was large, clean, and fully functional. The view from Just Be & b is spectacular. What I felt most was a sense of peacefulness and calm. The grounds below the main house are terraced with various edible plants and fruit trees planted here and there. It has the feel of a work in progress being carefully maintained with a plan for sustainable growth.
Limpari, a large comfortable room
A very comfortable bed. We slept very well here.
We were offered a ride to a local restaurant around 7:15 pm if we liked. Yes, we would like that. I could relax with no concern for driving or parking for a day. The beer and prosecco hit the spot. We walked the grounds then collapsed into bed for a rest. We found a note on our door at 7:15 that stated our ride would be available at 7:30. An example of German Precision. At 7:30 Chantal arrived with her boy friend and family. They had returned from and outing of some sort, exited the vehicle (a large SUV) and Ellen and I jumped in. Chantal whisked us to a restaurant up and over a nearby ridge. She drove carefully, without hesitation, and reasonably fast, as a local would. We arrived to find another couple, also guests at the B&B being seated.
The Restaurant was cool and I bundled up.
The Food was a Continental Italian Fusion,
We kept to ourselves for mot of our meal. Enjoying the suggestions the owner/chef made. In fact he ordered for us,. We would have it no other way. Our dinner was Italian inspired with a Swiss-German twist. It was very good. Toward the end of the meal we struck up a conversation with the other couple. A German doctor and his wife, a striking Indian woman. We hit it off and had a wide ranging discussion that evening. We exchanged cards. They drove us back to the B&B.
Ellen and I have “retired traveler” “business” cards printed. This gets around writing extraneous information on napkins.
Exhausted, night faded into sunrise and breakfast time. Chantal has had a breakfast house built on a terrace just below the bungalows. It is glass enclosed to take advantage of the view, and modestly but comfortably appointed. I asked for a double macchiato and received something closer to a pint of foamed milk with two shots of espresso floating mid glass. It was a work of art. Not what I expected, but welcome nonetheless. That plus a croissant was enough for me.
Breakfast with a View of The World.
While Ellen busied herself with her breakfast choices, I said, “buongiorno”, renewing our acquaintance with the German couple who were seated outside. Conversation flows easily with like minded people. Easy if both speak a common language, English in this case. I’ve studied German, Russian, some French, and lately Italian. I envy Europeans who can speak two or often five other languages. The German fellow is an anesthesiologist and an expert in pain medication. We discussed the current opioid crisis, which is international in scope. He feels (and I agree) that some pain is a good thing and that masking pain can have ill effects. That pain the the body’s feedback loop for repair. Chronic pain is a different animal and must be treated differently, but in both cases prescribing highly addictive pain medication is absolutely the wrong long-term approach. We also talked politics, and the funny, unimaginable, and scary ascension of “the Donald” and Brexit on the world stage. While stating that “Angle Markel is not my party”, Mark also has high regard for her integrity. I cannot say the same for the U.S. current administration. We talked health care and ceilings on doctor’s earnings in Germany, something I did not know about. At some point I realized my breakfast was getting cold and begged off.
Buddha with our breakfast.
We resumed our conversation on the veranda after breakfast. They live in the historic section of Wiesbaden on the Rhine, in Germany’s wine region for Riesling wine. He exports wine to India. We exchanged offers to come stay at each other’s homes. Mark warned that they do travel and would likely take us up. “Fine, I said. That would be our pleasure!”. If we get bored with Florence this trip, we could always drop in on Mark and Dorothy.
It was later in the day than expected as we loaded the car and drove away. The amazing view from high atop the hillside, the care the owners show in the B&B, and Chantal’s concern for nature and the environment make our brief stay here memorable, perhaps unforgettable. When leaving Chantal mentioned that the drive down the hill is faster than going up and around. The road is very narrow and without barriers in whole sections. She prefers that road as it is scenic and fun to drive. We chose to take the downhill route and were not disappointed. It was steep in many secitons. Single lane practically the whole way with hairpin turns everywhere. It was a blast, though I took it slowly for any number of reasons.
One hairpin turn after another on a steep downgrade, fun.
Out of the mountain, stopped for the view
The Nav system guided us to the autostrade and we reached Messina in an hour thirty with our speed varying between 40 kph and 150kph. The Nav system could not identify the address of our next apartment! My very inexpensive Italian smart phone could and guided us right to the door. I parked in a blue parking zone, a pay zone, without paying and called in. The owner would meet us in five minutes. GREAT. They had been trying to reach me via email and on my California number. I keep my US phone turned off most times now to avoid ATT’s pricing. It all worked out in the end.
Off to Tindari on the way to Messina.
Italy, Sicily day 6, Cefalu
Cefalu, The Rock, the Town, the Bay
Jetlag is finito. Now if only my cold would “poof” and be gone.
Between Sky and Sea is cozy and comfortable for two people. It has a view over rooftops to the ocean. A derelict building’s bell tower stands tall, a proud reminder of past glory. With the porch door open, I hear Cefalu waking up to the sound of passers by chatting and the occasional car or motorbike. It is early morning. I let Ellen sleep while I write.
The apartment is the smallest we’ve rented thus far. The bedroom is fine. The dining/living room can be a squeeze with our computers, phones, and cameras and the two of us scattered about. We would have moved the table out on the porch, but mornings and evenings are cool. I’m inside with the heater running. Aside from its size, everything in Between Sky and Sea works. There is surprisingly good water pressure and plenty of hot water. The shower is tiny even by Italian standards. That’s fine, we spend little time in the shower anyway. I feel relaxed even comforted by the azure sea view.
Sunset from our Balcony
Living and Dining Room With a View!
The Small But Functional Kitchen
The Bedroom Ceiling
Up and out, we head for morning coffee. Laura recommended “the shop beside the farmacia”. As we turned onto the Piazza Duomo, a barker stopped us and offered a table. Ellen hesitated and we almost sat. “let’s get something for my cold at the Farmacia first”, popped into my head and out of my lips. Ellen agreed and we said we’d be back.
“Buongiorno, I’d like something for my throat”, I said to the pharmacist, motioning to my throat. Though my voice is so bad that probably wasn’t necessary. “Caramelle or “ and here he motioned toward his mouth as if spraying something and said, “tsh tsh”. “non caramelle, per favore”. “Utilizzare due or tre volte al giorno.” “OK”
We walked out of the shop with a small fire-hydrant looking thing with a twist nozzle. Fascinating, but how the heck does this thing work? It took a few tries to figure that you press down on the “hydrant’s” top after twisting the fire hose up and stuffing that down my throat. This stuff works!
Next we stopped at “our” coffee shop, the one Laura recommended. “Salve, un cappuccino, un macchiado doppio, e due crema crossianti per favore”, we had our usual coffee and a bit more. I should have ordered “due cornetti alla crema”. Macchiado means spotted; it’s an espresso with a dollop of foamed milk. We sat outside in the semi-sun, it was partly cloudy this morning. We loosely planned our day: first find a supermercato for supplies and things we didn’t pack (we travelled very light), then perhaps walk the archeological site Laura mentioned, assuming we could find it.
My cheap TIM Samsung has been great for navigating with no worries about running out of data. Google “markets around me” and we were off. Funny, it guided us to the small market where we purchased menthol drops the evening before. It is a market, but not what we’re after. We headed out of Centro Storico to the new part of Cefalu toward where we parked the car. I had to pay for another half day parking anyway.
At the Parcheggio, I showed my first hand written parking paper to the attendant and said I wanted to stay through 14:00 the next day. No problem, 10 euro, another hand written note and we were good. With both notes placed on our dash, we were off. I approached a fellow leaning on his car, clearly a local, “Scusa, dov’e un supermercato, per favore?” Not skipping beat the fellow pointed down the street, “dritto a quattrocentro metri poi andate a sinistra. E li” “Grazie” No problem. The fellow was missing his two front teeth. That didn’t seem to bother him at all.
Typical for us, we followed his instructions, but probably turned up a street too soon. Another block down we asked the same question at a hotel. The concierge looked surprised, “dritto attraverso la strada” and pointed across the street. “Grazie”. We did turn one street too soon! There was “Deco”, the large name supermarket. It takes some getting used to:: parking at the market is not free, carts to get your groceries out to your car are not free. Many little conveniences are a few cents extra. One restaurant charged us 4 euro each for our seat out under an awning! It’s not a problem, just one of those things in Italy.
The Local Chain Supermercato
Where To Buy Hair Dryers, Washers, Refrigerators, etc.
Walking back toward the hotel I noticed a huge sign “Musotto elettrodomestici”. “No, I thought. It couldn’t be.” I steered Ellen toward the entrance and saw a hair dryer in a display case on the far wall. We exchanged Buongiorno’s with an early 40’s woman who was probably a co-owner of the shop. She spoke some English and we speak fluent “gesture Italian”. Right away Ellen had a flat iron in her hands. Being particular about things, Ellen asked if perhaps they had one that was wider/bigger. Yes. But that iron came in combination with a hair dryer at 40 euros versus 20 euro. Ellen left with her flat iron and without an extra hairdryer. Today was a glorious day in the world of frizzy hair. The sun was shining bright.
We passed a shop selling socks, calze (duolingo actually works!). Both Ellen and I need more socks. Ellen because her sneakers drag her socks into the shoe. Me because I packed very very light. The shopkeeper, a short older gal, spoke no English, none. But she loved to talk. This was perfect, what an opportunity to practice Italian. More often the Italians want to practice their English. We purchased calze and tried to leave the shop twice. Each time one of us would say something and conversation was off again. We could easily have spend an hour there just chatting away.
On our way back we watched movers taking care of business. I often wondered how large pieces of furniture were moved three or four floors up super narrow steep stairways. Here’s the obvious solution.
Ahh, THAT’s how you do it!
Not for Tourists, Repairing a Fish Net!
Dining in Italy
Ellen and I agreed that as much as we could, we would eat lunch as our main meal to keep some of the pounds off. Walking back from our “sock gal” we looked for a place to have lunch. Laura had recommended two local ristoranti. We passed one of them on our way back “home”, Kenlia. With no hesitation we went in for lunch. It was now around 2pm. The restaurant was mostly empty. We were ushered to our table without noticing much but the view of the bay. There were two other couples, and a multi-generational group of Russians. We were pretty much alone. When our waiter dropped by Ellen asked what the difference was between the spiny lobster and the lobster. He siad, ‘eh, spiny e local. fresha” That did it for Ellen, she ordered the spiny lobster in paste. We added a bottle of aqua naturale and a bottle of Nero d’ Avola, the typical Sicilian table wine. We watched the world go buy through the drawn Plexiglas walls First the water and wine arrived, followed by an eggplant carbora appetizer which was fantastic. There are two things I love about eggplant, it is a chameleon if not charred taking on the flavor of the sauce as it cooks and if it becomes distinctively and wonderfully different if charred. This dish was both.
Spiny Lobster
Ellen’s main course was impressive. She had a whole spiny lobster, half cut into her pasta dish. The other half lobster was presented in the shell on her plate. I really enjoyed my pasta. Ellen did offer me some of her dish; she was clearly so happy that I declined.
I later learned that Spaccatelle, the pasta I had ordered, is one of the few original Sicilian pasta forms. Who knew.
Spaccatelle, My Lunch. Good but not Spiny Lobster!
We savored the wine and food, then with an “Scusi, il conto per favore” we were off in search of the Archeological Site that Laura had mentioned. On our way out, we noticed the restaurant itself.
Should You Eat Here? Absolutely!
Oil at Our Table
Olive Oil Urns atop An Olive Press
Kenlia”s Main Dining Room
The Rock
We both agreed we would not climb, “the rock”, which is of course exactly what we did. The Archelogical Site is on the rim of the rock. A castle stands still higher up in the center. We compromised by not climbing to the Castle. After the fall of the Roman Empire, the town of Cefalu dwindled as pirates of all stripes pillaged the Sicilian coast. The city relocated to the top of The Rock, built fortifications, and with a massive cistern and food supply it withstood numerous sieges. Eventually the city relocated down on the shore where Cefalu stands today. The Rock is massive, impressive for its size and height. It’s a nearly round easily defended “mesa”.
The Rock is Truly a Cliff Outcropping of Massive Proportion
The Walt to Top of The Rock
Ellen at the Crenelated Wall atop The Rock
Dubrovnik? No, Cefalu
Back down in civilization, we went to “our” coffee shop. I was feeling my cold something fierce and ordered an Irish Coffee! Right, go to Italy and order an Irish Coffee. The bar tender didn’t even blink. Ellen had a double gelato. All were delivered to our table. In all seriousness, the Irish Coffee was absolutely the best ever: espresso (not coffee), Irish whiskey, and real foamed cream (not whipped) garnished with flakes of coffee bean made with care..
Irish Coffee in Italy? Ma Si, Certo!
We walked the shoreline for a while as the sun set before heading back to Between Sky and Sea. We were sad to be leaving, but happy that to ;have experienced Cefalu.
Cefalu’s Beach, Off Season
A small Boat Harbor?
Fresh Fruit brought to You Daily!
Italy, Sicily day 5 Villa Igiea, Palermo, and Cefalu
Today was a day full of changes. From modern to ancient, from parking anxiety to “no problem”, from pampered to “the rock”. The constant throughout? Sicily’s seashore and wonderful cuisine.
The View from Our Hotel Room, Villa Igiea
colazione
We leave today for Cefalu with mixed feelings. We would love to stay longer, but it is time to push on. We slept through the night again and awoke refreshed. The “cold” was still in my nasal passages and not too bad. We packed then went to breakfast, this time we took the elevator.
Breakfast is Served under the White Awnings
It was a moderately warm day; the patio was open and bustling. I walked to a table being setup. “No, this table is taken. I’ll set one up for you. Go to the buffet.” , which we did. I chose a croissant, wanting to eat a light breakfast. Ellen made a comment about eating healthy… Back to “our” table in the sun and it was taken. A fellow had placed a book on the table. “Mi dispace” and another table was setup, this time not in the sun. Bummer with an incipient cold. Still my croissant and macchiato doppio were excellent. Ellen had a more healthy breakfast of fruit and a cappuccino.
We took our bags down toward the front desk to ask about Ellen’s flat iron and to check out. She had left it with them to see if it could be resuscitated. The bellboy in the lobby came running to us to take our bags. It seems any time you try to do something for yourself, the staff puts an end to that immediately.
Palermo & Parking
Parking Palermo Style, Our Volvo is 2nd Car on the Right
Ellen’s flat iron was kaput. “Where could we buy a replacement?” “On via Ruggiero Settimo”, which Via della Liberta becomes just past Teatro Massimo. We knew exactly where that street was, we were there yesterday. I planned on getting a SIM card this morning, this time bringing my passport along. We asked about parking again, knowing there were two pay parking areas close to via Liberta. “No, only one is outsize the ZTL, you cannot use the other.” That was a crucial bit of information. Off we drove retracing yesterday’s steps at a rapid pace. Passing the farmacia, Ellen said, “Let’s get more vitamin C.” “Ok”, I said thinking, “crap, finding parking here is not going to be fun”. A right turn and a left and there was a spot on the corner below a parking sign that was open. Wow, we found parking in less than 4 minutes! Ellen was concerned, “Maybe this is not a valid parking spot. We could be towed.” It looked good to me, off we went for our vitamin. The car was there with no ticket on the windshield. One down.
Continuing on we next had to find parking nearer Via della Liberta. We needed to stop to check our map. This time two left turns took us to a cull de sac. Lots of cars were double parked, I pulled in behind one. While I was checking the map, Ellen said, “there’s some guy with a vest coming toward us. He’ll want us to move.” He walked past, motioned that we were ok where we were, and he moved a car so another could get out. We had found the parking area. I paid the attendant two euros, he moved some cars, and we had ourselves a primo parking spot. Ever concerned, Ellen wondered if we could park there until 14:00. “No problem” I said. Often that attitude gets me in trouble. Two down.
TIM, SIM, Torquemada
Valentina, TIM is Very Lucky to Have Her
It turns out we had parked three blocks from the TIM shop that has “my” SIM card. Ii took a number to wait my turn and Ellen went off to purchase the Italian handbag she saw the day before. She completed her purchase long before I was served. “il numero quarantotto,” “Parli Inglese?” “No” But the fellow handed us off to Valentina Cavara who did. It took an interminable time to sort out which of TIM’s special offers was best for us, then have the SIM car programmed and inserted in my iPhone. I had read that the 6 and 6S would work with international SIM cards and did not need to be unlocked. WRONG! The SIM card simply would not work. What to do? “I can purchase a phone. Do you have one that’s not expensive?”. “Yes. You would not want to buy an iPhone they are far to expensive.” We went through the whole SIM card configuration again, but this time for a new smart phone that Valentina sold with her employee discount (!!). Valentina also programmed a second SIM card which she said was a very special deal. For three months we would have unlimited cellular data on this SIM, but no calling. We left with a working local Italian phone number. Even with the new cell phone, our cost was far less than we would pay through ATT for two months. I am not happy with ATT’s pricing. Anyway; Three and Four down.
One of the Piazzas We “Discovered” on our Search
We still have Ellen’s flat iron and comfortable walking shoes for Ellen to go. We walked via Ruggiero Settimo and asked shopkeepers where we might find a flat iron. It was fun and funny, did we want a salon to have Ellen’s hair done? We were directed to Via Roma, Palermo’s third shopping area. We saw outstanding historic fountains, statues, churches, monuments but no flat iron and no sneakers to Ellen’s liking. On the bright side, it was early enough to have lunch at Torquemada. They had been closed yesterday, but they were open now. We ordered an appetizer of Five Diminutive Sicilian Sandwiches, think sliders done Sicilian style without the beef, and a mini pizza. The sandwiches were great, the pizza was just OK. Lunch: Five down.
It was not late enough that we could not possible check-in with Laura in Cefalu. No Problem, I dialed her on my new phone and rescheduled. It worked! Heading back to the car, Ellen stopped into a shop that had sneakers that she liked, that fit, and that were comfortable. In the space of five minutes (literally) she had her sneakers. Six down!
Palermo, Driving Again
We found the car parked just where we left it and (luckily) not parked in. Driving out of Palermo, heck driving anywhere in Palermo, is a challenge. It can be fun, if you adopt “the right” and rather strange attitude toward driving. It’s a Dr Jekyll & Mr. Hyde kind of thing. Following the GPS out of the city was no problem. Negotiating the traffic is the problem. It took us the better part of an hour. Again I called Laura and pushed our meet out another hour.
Even the autostrada was packed getting out of town. About an hour into our drive, I noticed the NAV displaying Messina 17km. WHAT? That cannot be right, Messina cannot possibly be 17km away. I pulled off the autostrada to check our location, parked, and verified that we could not possibly have passed Cefalu. Pulling out to turn around, I noticed a car pulling out behind me. No problem, there’s plenty of room, then BEEEEEEEEP. I stopped as a car stopped just to my left then pulled past. The rear passenger, a man, made the typical Italian gesture of “you stupido”: holding his hand, fingers together and pointed up, while raisin and lowering the hand at the wrist. So, around and back on the autostrada we went. We found Cefalu, but the Nav system guided us uphill and away from the town!
Between Sky and Sea & Laura
Sweet Laura
“This can’t be right,” Ellen said flatly. She was correct. We switched to my new phone and Google maps to save us. And it did to a point. Google maps doesn’t know from pedestrian areas or ZTL’s and repeatedly guided us up streets inaccessible to us. We went round and round a few times until I just parked and we walked.
Laura was waiting for us outside the building when we arrived late; very late. “Where’s your car?” I explained how we went round and round then parked. She was gracious about it. We all agreed GPS can be crazy.
From the Top looking Down
The Living Room is Small and Cozy
I like booking properties with a view when I can. In Italy this often means on the top floor and usually without an elevator. Our Cefalu rental is no exception. There are 64 steep steps from the doorway to the apartment. We get our exercise that way. (aside, I just heard the frutta e verdura monger outside. Every morning in Cefalu he calls out about the wonderful fruit or vegetables he has for sale. He sells to local merchants. We can buy directly from him at his price. It’s quintessential Italy)
Looking East
Driving Cefalu, a Lighthearted Challenge
I asked Laura about local coffee shops and restaurants that she would recommend, she gave us the keys, and off she went. She had shown us how to drive to the apartment. We decided to schlep our bags and keep the car where it was, a ten minute walk away. We dropped our bags and headed out to find a bite and explore Cefalu.
Duomo Pizzeria & Ristorante
Just around the corner is the Duomo and its piazza. We were famished and settled on Pizzeria Ristorante Duomo Serio not knowing what to expect. Cefalu is very much like Taormina. It has the same feel, though it lacks the open air Greek Amphitheater that is Taormina’s hallmark. Not surprisingly, the Germans like Cefalu almost as much as they like Taormina. German is the third most common language among the restaurants. The maitre D asked if we spoke German, “Ma no”, then were were from. We were seated and as often happens we chose the same entre for dinner, freshly made cheese ravioli with a tomato sauce, fresh basil, and hazel nuts. Our waiter suggested I switch to fresh cheese ravioli with porcini mushrooms. That was fine with me! I don’t know how the Italians do it, but each pasta dish we have had was cooked perfectly with a perfect combination of flavors and seasoning. The ravioli was outstanding.
A Typical Narrow Street and Yes, Locals Drive It
We strolled down the narrow street from the piazza to #9, our “home”, climbed the 64 steps, and figured out how to use the heater. The apartment was cool and with my illness, some warmth was called for. The bedroom heater worked great. I couldn’t figure out how to work the kitchen/dining room heater. (later I found a separate control for that unit = problem solved.) We both slept through the night.
Cefalu
Cefalu is an ancient city located at the base of “the rock”. The rock is a round stone outcropping that stands many meters high with impressive cliffs all the way around. After the fall of the Roman empire, the people relocated to the top of the rock to avoid marauding pirates and Turks (and Turkish pirates too). The fortifications atop The Rock are impressive and include massive walls nearly two meters thick, a crenelated wall atop the rock,, a castle, and huge cisterns. With food and water the rock withstood many sieges. Eventually the population moved back down to the sea and Storico Cefalu was built over time.
A View Past the Duomo to The Rock and Crenelated Wall
Cefalu is isolated on the north shore of Sicily about an hour’s drive from Palermo, perhaps two hours from Messina. It is the only Tourist draw on this stretch of the north shore. It is overlooked as a tourist destination, which saves it. The locals live their lives in and around the tourists, many of whom are Italian too. There are some trinket shops and a few sea side vendors selling their ware, but nobody is pushy. We were only accosted once. A woman carrying a child asked for money, I said, “ma no” (but no) and that was that. Cefalu has maintained Its Italian roots. The endless sea of poorly made souvenir crap so prevalent in Rome or Venice is missing here. You get the sense that people are enjoying living in Cefalu and that tourism, while important, is not what Cefalu is about.
The view from Top of the Rock
So what is Cefalu “all about”? It depends. Come find out for yourself.
Italy, Sicily day 3 Segesta, Mondello, Villa Igiea, PART 2.
Driving In Italy
Even planning to limit driving to a few hours max,, there simply is not enough time in two days stopover to do “everything”. Key to enjoying travel is choosing what to do wisely and not cramming too much into a series of whirlwind days. Take the time to absorb a place and its memories will take root.
I had really wanted to visit Scopello and Castelmarre del Golfo, but realistically there just wasn’t enough time. Similarly I had wanted to take the hydrofoil from Trapani to Levanzo and Iisola Favignana, two of the Egadi Islands. We would have been miserable with the weather that day. Even walking the Segesta ruins, we agreed if it rained we would turn back. It rained’’; we kept going.
The drive to Mondello took a bit over an hour. I passed two cars along the way and was passed innumerable times. The road and the car were screaming, “go faster”, which I did. Even so, I was one of the slower drivers; one eye on the road ahead and one eye on the upcoming traffic that appeared out of nowhere.
First Experience of Mondello
Driving into Mondello went from pristine highway to narrow streets, cars and motorbikes parked haphazardly, and extremely aggressive drivers (so I thought, then there’s Palermo). Mondello’s traffic was a step up from Trapani. I was prepared.
At the Waterfront, Mondello
To successfully negotiate Italian cities, the driver must forget courteously almost all toogether. There are times when it makes sense, but give an inch and ten drivers will zip buy bumper to bumper. Be aggressive, it’s safer than being timid!
Mondello
Mondello Waterfront
We rounded a bend and there was the bay with crystal clear water and the mountains dropping in to the sea to our right. The town of Mondello sits on the left side of the bay. It is a quaint small resort town. It has the feel of an old fishing village that still fishes, but discovered that Italian vacationers then foreigners pays better. Mondello is small with a smattering of trinket shops, supermercati, and restaurants. In April the town was asleep waiting for tourists to arrive in May.
Local Mini-Market, no 7-11 here!
We walked the town looking for supplies, not finding anything for my developing cold (thanks to that coughing couple on the flight from San Francisco). In Italy, the local minimarkets stock lots of inexpensive fruit and produce. All Italians can choose to eat well.
Choosing a restaurant was not difficult as most were closed. We went back to da Caiogero, the only restaurant that was busy. Of course I ordered a large beer. The menu said if an item on the menu is not fresh it is highest quality frozen. That begs the question, is it fresh? Our waiter stated unequivocally that the small clams that Ellen ordered and the calamaretti that I ordered were indeed fresh. I love clams, and Ellen’s were fantastico. I’ve never had calamaretti, but didn’t bother to ask. Clearly they’re calamari and etti is an Italian diminutive. Out came a plate of 1” baby calamari. I don’t think they were breaded. They were amazing.
Vongole
Calamaretti
We were both so pleased with our order, we re-ordered the appetizers and switched plates. Heaven.
The Water is Amazingly Clear.
Palermo is just around the near point.
For the most part the weather in Mondello was blustery and cloudy. There was a massive downpour while we ate that cleared up sometime before we left. There’s something about the way the mountains fall into the sea in Northern Sicily and the color of the water in the shallow bays. Perhaps it’s my heritage (not Sicilian); I don’t know. To me this is as good as life gets.
More on Driving
The Idyllic Road before Mistakenly Turning Right into City Traffic
Back at the Volvo, I punched in Villa Igiea’s address and we were off. Driving in Palermo is like driving the Indianapolis 500 at 30 kph: exhilarating, intimidating, exhausting, frustrating, and big fun rolled up into a traffic jam. If you like to drive, there’s nothing quite like it. If you do not, don’t drive Palermo. At one point, we were sitting in the right of two lanes. The lane I was in could go right or join with the left lane into a single lane ahead. I planned to go straight, merging with the car beside me (or beating it to the merge) when a horn sounded in annoyance at being held up. Intimidation got the bests of me and I turned right to get out of the way. As I turned I noticed the car behind me stop waiting for the light to change to go straight. Crap, I missed my “turn”. Now our Nav took us not down the tree-lined direct route to the hotel, ,but on a very busy circuitous (torturous) route. The Italians are very creative in their interpretation of a “lane”. Sometimes you think you’re in your lane and oncoming traffic thinks you’re in their lane. Things sort themselves out quickly.
It was a relief to see the entrance to the hotel on our right and I zipped in.
Villa Igiea, Sofitel
A Room with A (limited) View
The hotel was as I remembered it as we walked into the lobby. A statuesque Italian woman asked, “Prego” and we checked in. We had an upgrade into the main building, though on the first floor. The last time we were here we were on the second in a huge bedroom with an equally huge bathroom, both in Italian marble. Our room was much more modest. I tried to have the room changed, but a Phillip Morris corporate event was taking place. No rooms were available. It would have been nice to be up another floor just for the memories. The next time we come, I’ll ask for “our” room. The valet unloaded the car, took our bags to our room, and parked the Volvo. We would not use the car until we left.
Villa Igiea, Palermo Sicily
Villa Igiea is a historic building built recently in 1908. The hallways are adored with photographs of famous Europeans who have visited,
We walked the grounds. What a view we had over the marina, across the Bay of Palermo, to the surrounding mountains, before we collapsed into the comfort of our room. It was well into dinner time when we walked back downstairs to the dining level. The stairway, which we prefer to the elevator, opens into the back of the dining hall. We walked past guests enjoying their dinner, past the maitre’D (ma no, grazie), and into the bar. The bar is a classic Italian stone affair with an arched ceiling and arched doorways that lead to a glass enclosed patio. With the blanks provided the unheated patio was comfortable. We chose to have a light meal of carpaccio and spaghettino di grano duro alla trapanese (spaghetti with tomato,, basil, pine nuts) at our patio table.
Villa Igiea’s Marina
The Bar, Villa Igiea
Not Your Typical Bar Food, Pasta Trapanese
Carpaccio Crudo di Carne
We fell into bed, happy for where we are and exhausted from what we had done.
Italy, Sicily day 3 Segesta, Mondello, Villa Igiea, PART 1.
Ellen enjoyed our meal at Serisso 47. She enjoyed the John Dory and thought the desert was fabulous. Here are a few photos of Serisso 47. The owner/chef did greet us and present the specials of the day and presented us with a “fish cart” describing the various fish we could select that night.
Serisso 47 is quite appealing inside with its vaulted ceilings
Which Fish would you like, Bream? John Dory?
Ellen liked the appetizer so much she asked for another! 2 more arrived
Desert mango cream custard with caramelized pistachio nuts
Corso Vittoreo Emanuele at 12:30 AM.
Note Lun-Gio 05:30-08:00 and the tow sign!
Viale Regina Elena is the road that runs along the marina and ferry buildings in Trapani. It has ample pay parking. It is where we parked Sunday for free. However, the street has restricted parking between 5:30am and 8:00am. Monday – Thursday the “land” side of the street restricts parking for street cleaning. The “sea” side restricts parking Wednesdays – Fridays. Signs state that cars will be towed even if they have a valid parking ticket.
Last night I moved our car from the land side to the sea side so that it would not be towed today, Monday. This morning I had to purchase a parking ticket before 8:00 am that was good through 10:00, our checkout time. It is no problem purchasing a ticket at a kiosk. 2 euros is good for three hours. Getting out of bed and out of the apartment was the problem.
The marina esplanade,
Today was cold and blustery as I exited the apartment. The car was just as I had left it. Finding parking on the other side of the street at 7:30 AM was a breeze. This morning was magnificent. There were gray storm clouds over the mountains, white billowing clouds closer in, and sun streaming through the clouds where it could. Did I bring a camera or smart phone? No.
Leaving for Segesta. Where did everybody go?
I hustled back, grabbed my camera, and hurried back to find the lighting had changed. I took some photos and walked back a circuitous route. Today, Monday, all the local cafes were open and overflowing with early morning customers on their way to work. In fact the streets that yesterday seemed deserted were hard to cross with the cars zooming around, carving a lane wherever they could.
Not packing for the airport makes checking out simpler. Checkout was as simple as leaving the keys in a hopper by the door and leaving. We left a tip for the cleaners and 10 euros for the two bottles of surprisingly good wine Alessandra left in the apartment for us.
By now working the Volvo’s Italian Nav system had become “easy”, we sort of. Most of the directions (all in Italian) are direct enough. Prepare to turn left. Take the 3rd exit in the roundabout. But every now and then at a crucial juncture out pops a stream of words that to me are indecypherable.
I dialed in “points of interest” Segesta, and off we went. Italian roads are very well maintained, well designed, and have excellent signage, “mostly”. It is extremely easy to speed, most Italian’s do and it is not just the guys! Probably the worst cases of rude drivers cutting me off or getting creative with lanes in the city are women.
On the Road to Segesta at 120 kph.
Driving to Segesta (SE JEST-a) was fun. Whether it was the exhilaration of speed, the beauty of the countryside, the ruins of old hilltop villas, or keeping an eye out for the occasional very high speed driver, the drive went by quickly. There was one instance where the Nav system went “bonkers” spewing out a bunch of Italian words. I was tooling along at 120 kph when the road head branched. The lane I was in turned right to who knows where. The left lane headed on to Palermo and Segesta. II would have turned into the left lane, but a car behind me and in the left lane was closing fast. I braked well ahead of decision time and noticed that the car behind was making room so I zipped right and off toward Segesta I went. I only which I knew what the Nav system was “saying” to warn me about that!
We took the turnoff for Segesta (SE JES ta) came up, I took it. Ellen and I agreed that if it was raining, we wouldn’t “do it”. The road to the parking lot is twisty, but short. At the end there were three huge tourist busses parked and a small open gate to get into the parking lot. In we went and we parked. The rain that had been off and on, was off. We popped out, put on our rain gear, and cameras in hand we headed to the biglietteria. The walk to the temple is up a short trail. It is a feat of ancient engineering. The temple is more worn and I think it is smaller than Agrigento’s. The Greek city states and later the Roman Empire were the foundations for modern civilization. For me visiting these relics of antiquity is akin to coming home (strange, but true). It stirs my imagination.
Temple of Segesta built ~420 BC by the Elymian people.
Those busses were not for your typical tourist. They took busloads of middle school children on an outing. One fellow was giving a lecture to his students in French. Most others were Italian. In fact nearly all the tourists were Italians. There were a few German speakers; a few English speakers, but the dominant language was Italian. It felt good to know that the significance of these monuments to Italy’s greatness will not be lost. Often you will see graffiti scrawled on derelict historic buildings. It is hard for me to comprehend, though I recognize the teen aged rebellion of my youth.
Segesta, the View Walking Back from the Amphitheater
The wild flowers around the temple were in full bloom. Spring has arrived in northern Sicily. Did we want to walk to the amphitheater? It was a 1200+ meter walk. The Greeks build their amphitheaters high up in hills to be close to the Gods. I think they were performing for the Gods. I knew the “walk” to the amphitheater would be a slog, and in the rain as well. The wind blew hard over the ridge sometimes driving the rain hard too. In some places there were rivers of water flowing down the road and mud to contend with on the trail. It took a while to reach the theater, which was nestled in a bowl out of the wind. The French teacher stood center stage and spoke to his students who stood at the top row of the amphitheater. We could hear every word he spoke, the acoustics are that good in the ancient Greek theaters. We left him talking to his shivering students as we began our walk down to the car. The view of the temple from high up in the hill is remarkable.
Spring in Segesta, Sicily
Happy Wife!
The Old and the New.
At the car I dialed in Mondello in the Nav system. Mondello is roughly 6 km north of Palermo. Our friend whom we met on the flight into Palermo recommended that we stop there. We chose to skip Castellammare del Golfo and Scopello, which are off the autostrade and a bit out of the way.
Sicily day 2, Trapani
Sunday 4/2/2017
Trapani
We slept fitfully with nasty jet-lag. The coughing couple a row behind us on the flight from San Francisco has done me in. I’ve got nasal congestion and that sucks. We awoke around 9AM to the sound of rain. The weather had turned much colder. Yesterday may have been in the 80’s. Today was in the 50’s. This is not the best weather to overcome an incipient cold, but we were prepared for the rain and cooler weather.
The apartment manager provides umbrellas at the door. Grabbing one we set off to find a supermarket, a farmicia, or a café. That can be a challenge on a Sunday in Trapani!
We had discovered a local supermarket and Farmacia Restivo Dr.Ssa Ilaria within a few blocks of our apartment. Both were closed. Widening our search, we had no luck finding either, We settled on coffee as our first priority and headed to Corso Vittorio Emanuele, This is a pedestrian street full of cafes, trattorias, and shops; one of the happening places in Trapani. The café on the corner was open, and while the tree older gents outside were friendly enough, we pushed on. We pushed on to find nothing open. We walked quite a way in the drizzle. There were a few pasticcerias open, none with more than a single occupied table.
One of many historic but derelict edifices in Trapani
We decided to go left toward the ferries and marina hoping that one of the cafes we had seen yesterday were open. I approached a fellow leaving a tabaccheria and asked, “Scusami, dov’e un café in vicina” (which was wrong s/b dov’e un café nelle vicinanze, but hey) The fellow answered, “indietro e destra” Cool, but that was the way we had come! We retraced our steps all the way back to that café with the old gents, who were still there. The next café up was open and had tables inside out of the rain. I had an over the top chocolate covered cream filled horn and a double macchiato. Ellen had a cappuccino and a croissant. We were warm and listening to Italian conversations around us. Two massive chalk boards had writing on them one said: Live life, have a small salt pizza (?), and a lemonade with a shot of tequila.
Two guys had two plates of antipasti served. I asked the waiter if we could have what they were having (in English and with gestures) a short time later out came our meal. We no longer felt guilty taking a table. The eggplant marinara was very good as were the green olives and the crostini with a bit of fresh sardine. Trapani is big on sardines.
After some time the rain let up and we went back to our apartment to regroup. We wanted to find a supermarket to get supplies like shampoo, body wash, Kleenex, and cough drops at a minimum. Google turned up a large supermarket just outside the historic district and it appeared to be open on Sundays. Great, we can explore more of Trapani and go to a supermarket as well. Coveting our free parking spot, we had no desire to drive. Though it was still cold and windy with the occasional smattering of rain, our walk was exhilarating. As we walked further form the historic district, the architecture became more residential and far less visually interesting. We walked in the general direction of where I thought the supermarket should. Most everything was closed but for a few cafes. I asked a woman arranging shoes in a display where I’d find a supermarket close by (in Italian) and she answered (In Italian) left down that street then right. We found it and it was closed. Sunday is not a good day to go shopping in Sicily.
By now we were just a block from the sea, why not walk back along the water? We found a small beach with typical beach side changing and storage huts. There were a few restaurants right on the water, closed as usual for us that day.
Citta Storica
Italy loves putting up fountains, monuments to famous historic figures, and creating parks. On our way back we found all three.
A decorative Lintel over a Church’s Entrance
All roads lead to Corso Vittorio Emanuele. As we turned on to the street, the sun broke through the clouds shining on a church’s façade briefly. Then the sky grayed over. We passed a church. Ellen popped then called me inside, “you have to see this”. She was right. Trapani was once a very prosperous sea port. It is still the capital of the province of Trapani. This church showed the affluence that was once Trapani. It was amazing.
Carved Marble
A Cherub in Carved Marble
Again Carved Marble
While we were inside, the skies parted and dumped sheets of rain on the street. We caught the tail end as we left for home.
Palazzo Senatorio With its Day and Time Clocks
We had made reservations at a restaurant Alessandra recommended for 8pm that evening. We arrived at the restaurant on time and were ushered to our table by the owner/chef. It was 8 pm and the restaurant was empty. This is not a good sign. We ordered at the owner’s recommendation, I had sardine pasta a Traditional Sicilian dish, and Ellen ordered the John Dory. Appetizers arrived first and they were very good. While we were eating the sardine pasta, the restaurant filled with a group of 18! It appeared to be a tour group visiting Trapani.
To me both the pasta with sardines and the John Dory were too fishy tasting. The pasta was great and cooked al dente, just as I like it. I have not given up on fresh sardines. I’ll give them one more try on the Amalfi Coast.
Italy, Sicily day 1 Carini and Trapani
Oveview
We left Francesco and drove to Erice, discovering that our GPS guided us to Trapani instead. Our US GPS then took us to Erice. We had just enough time to walk the town for half an hour before leaving to meet Alessandra at our Trapani apartment in Citta Storica, the old town. Erice is a quaint medieval town that is now more touristy than authentic. Be sure to pay for parking at a kiosk and do not use Turkish coins, they do not work! I wish we had seen the castle from above. Our Trapani apartment is exactly as presented in homeaway’s photos: it is comfortable, well located, and complete. It lacks charm, but the town easily makes up for it. We are still heavily jet-lagged. Even so we had a wonderful meal at Osteria la Bettolaccia, which we highly recommend. If you cannot get in early consider getting a table late, it is worth it. Trapani does not sleep on Saturday night.
Don Ciccio’s Sea House, Carini Sicily
At this bed & breakfast, breakfast closes at 10AM and checkout is at 11. We awoke at 11:30, oops! The day was half over already. After a quick shower we went downstairs to find Francesco had set out our breakfast. “No Worries. I knew you would be tired. Normally we close the breakfast at 10, but we kept it open for you.” We were the only people at the house that morning. The espresso and hot milk had cooled, but we were not about to complain. Francesco put a pot of water on to boil for tea and opened a door to the veranda. “It is a beautiful day. You may want to eat outside.” Which we did. The fruit and cheese filled croissants were excellent. We were definitely in Italy.
While we ate, we watched an elderly couple tending the grounds, trimming and watering plants. It was clear that the house was being readied for tourist season. As with this trip, we prefer to plan our excursions to avoid peak tourist season. We find “the locals” are more relaxed and open to conversation. After breakfast Francesco introduced us to his finance. Francesco told us that Ciccio is a diminutive of Francesco, his father’s name. He introduced us to the couple we had seen tending the grounds. They were his father and mother, the owners of the property. Francesco showed us the swimming pool and an outdoor kitchen with a wood fired oven. Both are for their guests use and both open in May, though they often prepare a welcome pizza in the oven for guests when they arrive. Francesco said it is not unusual for a group to rent the entire house for a week in May or June.
Lucky, the property’s guard dog, is a sweetie. He is a large Labrador mix who craves attention. Simply making eye contact was enough for him to come bounding to me and slobber all over my hands. His was probably the loudest of last evening’s chorus of barks.
We hit it off with Francesco. He waived the late check-in fee and offered us a special rate if we chose to stay an extra night or two. He very graciously wrote a note to a restaurant owner he knows in Palermo introducing us as his guests. He also provided information about Palermo, what to see and do and suggested three websites in particular. My iPhone’s touch screen failed while he was giving this info. I was more focused on fixing my phone. As a result I left his note to the proprietor on his desk.
The Road To Erice and Trapani
Driving away from Carini
Ah Italian.
Trapani in English is pronounced tra PAH nee, but in Italian it is TRAA panee.
Erice in English is pronounced ehRICHeee, but in Italian is is ERRicheee.
Capi in English is caPREEE but in Italian it’s CApree.
We left for Erice and Trapani at mid day. I understood enough of the Volvo’s nav system to program it for Erice/Trapani. The Garmin system we brought with us appeared dead at first. I had purchased a map of Italy for the Garmin before we left, not knowing if it would work or not. Unless your GPS location is on the map, the map will not show. Here we were cruising toward Trapani with an Italian nav system that I could work with, maybe and a Garmin system that appeared inoperative. Once the Garmin found our location it popped up the map! It works! Ellen programmed it for Erice too. We often do this while travelling, using one nav system to double check another. It helps avoid getting lost.
The scenery of northern Sicily is dramatic. There are cliffs that drop straight into the sea. There are rolling hills and bridges spanning deep ravines. There is a sense of desert inland. It is reminiscent of the California coastline. Scattered on the tops of hills are large stone buildings or small towns long abandoned and falling into ruin. It takes centuries or millennia to erase these once magnificent stone structures. I was tempted to stop and explore some of them, but we simply did not have the time.
Though most Italian road signs are pretty straight forward, I recommend getting familiar with their signs before you drive in Italy. There are a host of websites that show all the signs. Most important are the parking signs which list days of the week when parking is prohibited and cars will be towed for street cleaning, and the city center limited access signs that mark ZTL zones. Entering a limited access zone as a tourist will earn a heavy fine.
I received a call from our Trapani rental asking when we would arrive. Our connection was bad, Alessandra’s English was fair and my Italian is poor. Still we arranged that Alessandra meet us with the keys at 16:00. Ok she said and rang off.
Headed toward Trapani & Erice
The road between Carini and Trapani is a very good four lane highway with two lanes in each direction. Work zones are well marked. A long tunnel was under repair and our two lanes funneled into one lane, crossed the median, took a lane from the opposing traffic, and entered the working tunnel. There were ample signs warning that one lane would merge with the other and speed signs that marched down from 100kph to 80 to 60 to 40 kph. The last time I drove in Sicily this happened and I was unprepared for the sudden lane change. I had to drop from 120kph to 40kph rather abruptly.
For Italian drivers speed limits are a suggestion. I usually drive fast. It is not unusual for Ellen to calmly suggest that I am going far too fast. Not infrequently I’ll hear, “Could you slow down, please? The typical speed limit on the road to Enrice is 100kph. Our rented Volvo was quite comfortable at 120 and even at that speed I passed perhaps three cars. Most everyone passed me by.
Somewhere along the route the two GPS systems disagreed. The Volvo said go straight toward Trapani. The Garmin wanted to turn left along the coast. We followed the Volvo. It took us into the residential section of north east Trapani. I suppose that’s what the nav system meant by Erice/Trapani. Erice is high in the hills above the sea. Trapani is on the coast. We were now negotiating narrow streets in an unknown city. We chose to ignore the Volvo Gps and work with the Garmin for now. It directed us down a few one way streets, which we did not do. We circled around a few times getting our bearings. There was some event taking place and there was a vast amount of foot traffic and cars converging on us. In one case I had a woman veer in front of us trying to force here way through a turn. I almost hit her. She had a look of terror on her face as I stopped just in time. I wonder what my face showed? She did win out and made her turn.
Which way do we go?
The Garmin brought us up a series of hairpin turns rising from the sea shore high up in a bluff overlooking the bay. The twists and turns put Ellen on edge and I kept our speed down. We arrived Erice at 14:30. Erice is a wonderful small medieval town with a castle built into the hillside. Parking is limited and can be impossible in peak season. We had no trouble finding a spot. I did have no success getting he parking kiosk to take Turkish coins. Off I went to get bills changed to coins. The restaurants will not make change, they need their change. The info kiosk, remarkably not busy at that moment, did not make change. They directed me to the police office who had buckets of change. Back I went and purchased a parking pass for an hour and we set off to tour the town. It was now 14:30. We hurriedly walked the up the main street, past numerous vendors of tourist trinkets, hotels, B&B’s, and some quality shops. The streets were mostly filled with Italians, though I heard some German, Spanish, and English spoken. We passed the main square and a few churches then realized we did not have time to climb to the castle and make it to Trapani’s old town by 16:00. We turned back at 15:00.
Arrived Erice
View from town of Erice
Local or a Tourist about to have a reckoning?
Here we turned back and walked to the car, never reaching the castle
The drive back down the hairpin turns went slowly. The driver ahead of us was extremely cautious and kept his/her speed below 30kph. It was almost painful. I took a turnout to let the cars behind me pass to see how the locals handled a slow driver. Did slow-poke take a turnout on the way down? No. We drove all the way down slope at 30 kph. The locals too kept their distance and did not attempt to pass. At the outskirts of Trapani I zipped past and could drive at my own pace, which in the city was just about 30kph.
Trapani and the Egadi Islands
Slow Poke
The Garmin unit could not find our rental address, but the Volvo’s did. The main street in old town Trapani is a pedestrian street lined with outdoor seating for cafés and restaurants. The GPS directed us down that street! I knew something was wrong when I noticed awnings and people seated a block ahead. I turned left in time to avoid having to back up. Walking this street since I have seen more than one driver have to back-up at the same spot.
Moments before we arrived, both our GPS units failed. We had entered streets so tight and with surrounding buildings high enough to block satellite signals. We were “blind”. Almost immediately we saw Via Tintori, turned left, and passed #18. A small sign announced Rosa dei Venti Apartments. We parked in a locals only parking spot thinking this would be OK for ten or twenty minutes.
We had arrived at our rental about five minutes to 16:00 and just ahead of Alessandra.
Rosa dei Venti Apartments
Stairs to the 3rd Floor (2nd for an Italian, they count from zero)
Our Central Courtyard, Trapani
Alexandra is a good looking no nonsense woman in her mid 20’s I’d guess. She was friendly in a business kind of way. She took payment, gave us our keys, and went over what some of the high points of Trapani and surrounding areas. All this in the hallway just inside the entry, at her “office”. behind a locked cupboard. She said we would have no problem parking where we were for a short time, but we should move soon or we’d be towed. Yes, other visitors had had their car towed. Not from there, but because they did not read the parking signs. Each area of Trapani has parking closure some days of the week early in the morning for street cleaning. If you are parked when street cleaning is scheduled, your car will be towed! The good news? Parking is free on Sundays. We should park along the marina, pay the fee between now and 8 PM, then parking will be free until 8AM on Monday provided we do not park in a zone that has street cleaning Monday morning!
We are on the third floor, a walk up. Stone stairs in a central courtyard.led up to “Levante”, our apartment. Alessandra pretty much said, “here it is, here are your keys” and split. I followed her downstairs to get our bags. The walk back upstairs with two bags was “fun”. Our bags are not overly heavy though they grew heavier with each step. We left the bags and went off to park the car. Parking was easy. Both finding a spot and using a kiosk to pay for a parking ticket. The kiosk would not take any of our credit cards. We paid in Euro coins and went back to unpack.
Alessandra had recommended two restaurants and a sea food place for lunch. I called both restaurants: Osteria la Bettolaccia and Tistorante Serisso 47. Bettolaccia is closed on Mondays. The former did not pick up. The latter did but had nothing available for this evening. “Yes, we can seat you tomorrow. What time would be good for you?” We had reservations for the next day at Serisso 47. Google had a different number for Bettolaccia. A male voice answered and said, “no, we have nothing available until 10 pm. Do you want to reserve a table then?” I declined.
Trapani and Osteria la Bettolaccia
At la Bettolaccia
Lover’s Lane Trapani Style?
We walked Trapani for a while getting familiar with the scope of the city. The old town, Citta Storico, is small and quite walkable. The two main streets are closed to traffic with restaurants overflowing into the streets. It was early for Italians who typically eat around 8 to 9pm. Even so, there were families and couples strolling and taking in the evening air. Today was a beautiful warm but windy day. Perfect weather. Walking to the northern side of the city, we found what is probably the local “lover’s lane” for strollers. Here we found late teen to mid 20’s couples and a few groups of 4 sitting on the sea wall watching the sun set. This was Trapani’s equivalent of lover’s lane I’d guess.
Early Out on the Town
A Typical Well Maintained Courtyard
Heading “home” we found a nearby supermercato to buy some shampoo and body wash (packing light, we had not brought any) and headed back to #18 for a rest. Ellen slept while I blogged away. A few hours later, refreshed, we went out for an evening stroll. It was now about 8:30pm. The streets were now full of Italian families and couples out for dinner or just for a stroll. There were many more people out now. We joined the throng and headed in a different direction. Like Vietnam with its extended families, the only privacy people have is to get out of the house and get away from parents or grandparents. Culturally this had led to the evening stroll that can last well into the night. There were elderly couples, families, dating couples, teenagers, groups of buddies of both sexes, all walking in their best semi-casual evening attire. Friends unexpectedly met ;each other and embraced in the street. Some shops were open late. It was a grand festival of life and one of the things I truly love about Italy. We walked for an hour then I suggested we find Bettolaccia and see if they have a table free. That restaurant was on my short list of places to eat while in Trapani. It is #1 on Trip Advisor’s list of best local food in Trapani.
As we had no idea where this restaurant was, I enabled cellular on my phone, entered the restaurant address, and we were off. The restaurant was a few blocks away from #181 Again the GPS got us close but marked the restaurant on a corner of an intersection when the restaurant was actually on the other side and down the street half a block! Ellen noticed a gal in a cook’s hat walk out of a doorway and headed in that direction. Sure enough, that was the place. The owner ushered us in. We asked if there was availability for dinner and he pointed to a table for two in a corner. Great. The owner took our order! We ordered a mixed appetizer plate, a side of potato and a side of mixed veggies. Ellen ordered grilled prawns and I ordered strips of veal in balsamic sauce. Now for wine. With prawns we should have white, with balsamic veal, red. What to do? Our “waiter” suggested we have two half carafes of house wine; one white and one red. Problem solved. I have read that it is best to order house wine in Italian restaurants as their wine will be quite good. We were not disappointed in either the wines nor in the meals.
Ellen had questions about the flavors in some of our dishes and about the menu. Our waitress, who spoke some English, would scurry between the kitchen and our table to answer her questions. One menu item listed “fruits of the forest’ as an ingredient. Our waitress could not translate the Italian for us. She was most disappointed, even after we reassured her that it really didn’t matter.
The appetizer was very very good. I’ve never had veal cooked as a steak and cut in strips. It was excellent. Ellen’s prawns were quite large and very delicious. Our cannoli desert was unusual. The ricotta filling was heaped in the center of the plate. The cannoli was broken into pieces and pressed into the filling then drizzled with a chocolate sauce. The presentation was perfection, It was scrumptious. Another thing I love about Italy, if you eat locally, is the quality of the food and its price. Our meal of an appetizer, two side dishes, two main dishes, a carafe of wine, and desert came to 70 Euro at one of the best small restaurants in Trapani. We considered going there the next day, Sunday, but they are closed.
An Original Cannoli Presentation
On our way out we stopped to thank the owner for an exceptional dining experience. He was most gracious as Ellen explained that we were only in Trapani for another day and could not come back Monday and that we were driving to Messina. I mentioned Palermo and Cefalu and he beamed. You have to visit Tindari and there’s an old rock outcropping that dates back to very ancient times. He mentioned Druids. “Like Stonehenge?” Yes, here I’ll write it down for you. It’s not very well known. It’s between Cefalu and Messina. With a million thanks, we left the restaurant. He wrote: Tindari and Montalbano Elicona on a piece of paper for us. I was thinking, boy that Commissario Montalbano sure gets around!
By now it was around 11:30 and streets were overflowing. Most but not all families and “old folks” had gone home. The streets were owned by the young. The pedestrian streets were alive. Some apparel shops had re-opened, wine bars were lively, some had loud driving music filling the streets., The city was vibrant. We walked for another hour before finding our way back. One street was standing room only for the length of the (short) street. This was the hot spot in Trapani on a Sunday morning. I never once felt the tiniest bit of fear this entire evening. In that massively crowded street I was very aware of my pockets though I probably need not have considered it at all.. What a wonderful way to cap off the day, by being part of this evening’s celebration of life.