Invitation to Italy 7 of 7
symbols, and emblems of a way of life. Perhaps some are not so ancient, but the traditions that generate them date from millenniums past.
The interior is usually extremely clean, and whitewashed. The unwhitewashed domes bear crosses and painted signs that perhaps survive from mediaeval times when the mystical brotherhood of the Rosicrucians spread throughout the Mediterranean area. Groups of Trulli, connected with its neighbors and almost fused together, make a picturesque and comfortable dwelling.
One reference states that originally a one-unit Trulli was not used as a home, but served as a combination shrine and storehouse for the farmer’s tools. But after visits by vulturous invaders the farmer went to live in his “little temple,” then created additional, adjacent buildings as needed for his family. Today the clusters of round stone buildings are reminiscent of a bunch of grapes from the abundant vineyards in Puglia.
The stone walls in this part of Italy run for dozens of miles, and as stated earlier, they appear to be more a place to store the stone, rather than as a needed fence or field divider. Think of the millions of man-years needed to build the Great Wall of China, Hadrian’s Wall across England, and the walls around thousands of towns and cities in various parts of the world. Those Herculean tasks seem almost impossible, but we would bet an equal number of hours were spent gathering stones from the fields and building the hundreds and hundreds of miles of small stone walls and fences we have seen dividing fields in southern Italy, in Yugoslavia, and in Greece. We would be willing to concede there are thousands of miles of fences in places we have yet to visit.
%ALBEROBELLO
Alberobello, which means “beautiful tree,” is one of the most unique towns we have seen. It’s the capital of the Trulli area, and about half of the town consists of a phenomenal cluster of Trulli houses built with a fairy-tale appearance, a thousand years ago. Many are still lived in, others are used as stores that beckon the traveler with a variety of goods for sale, and thousands more are sprinkled around the countryside. The “Zona Monumentale” just south of town is filled with Trulli houses that are mostly white, and looked like, just maybe, they were built for Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Standing in Piazza Sacramento next to the principal church in Alberobello, Trullo Sovrano is a two story Trulli, the largest and most elaborate example of Trulli architecture.
%FASANO
Some young people told us to be sure to see Fasano. It's a very nice town, with a pretty church, a smooth main street made of big blocks of stone. Buildings with balconies lined the side streets. But we didn’t see too much of interest when compared to what we have been seeing these last few days. Again, it’s always compared with what. Compared with a town in California or anywhere in the US, Fasano is fabulous, but from what little we saw, it doesn’t compare with Lecce, Ostuni, Molfetta, Otranto, and hundreds more in Italy.
FERRY BOAT TICKETS
As we drove toward Brandisi we stopped to inquire about a ferryboat to Greece. Despite the advertisements, not much information was available, it was out of season. In Brandisi we finally found a place to buy our tickets to Pátra, Greece for 202,000 lire, $150. We reserved a place to park on the top deck of the SS Valentino, and sleep and eat in our RV — there was no need for an overnight ship’s cabin from Italy to Greece.
When we bought our tickets, the man told us the roads on mainland Greece are almost impassable and the drivers are impossible. When we got to Greece we found that was not true at all, the roads and drivers in Greece were just fine. Can’t imagine an Italian complaining about the way someone in another country drives. The pot and the kettle, the mote and the beam, a silk purse and a sow’s … , well maybe that last one doesn’t fit, but you get the idea.
%BRANDISI
Brandisi was the door to the east and the bridge with Greece for the Greeks and Romans a couple of thousand years ago; for the crusaders several hundred years ago; and for the Californians in 1989. Our ship for Greece was scheduled to leave in late evening, but we arrived in Brandisi before lunch intending to enjoy the city and get some rest. We found a parking place near the harbor, right in downtown Brandisi, and just spent the day resting and walking in the nearby city center.
Brindisi’s harbor area is beautiful, and it’s pleasant to walk along Corso Garibaldi and visit the Piazza della Vittoria in the heart of the city. The old town rises on a promontory between two arms of the sea and has a fine square with steps leading to the monument where the ancient Appian Way ended. The Roman column is 66 feet high, made of marble, and topped with a set of carved figures of the gods.
In the Piazza del Duomo there’s the Cathedral Church with the Baroque bell tower, the Loggia Balsamo, and the remains of the Tempio dei Cavalieri. Brandisi’s museum has an invaluable collection of marble statues, Greek and Roman coins, and archaeological finds.
Since our arrival in Greece was set for the Saturday before their Easter Sunday, and we were told that stores in Greece would be closed on Monday, we visited a Brandisi supermarket to make sure we had a plentiful supply of food. We find the availability of Ritz crackers in Europe to be at best unpredictable, so when this supermarket had a large display, Jim bought several boxes. As we might have expected, when we visited supermarkets in Greece, they were readily available; there had been no need to purchase a stash of Ritz crackers in Brandisi.
SS VALENTINO TO GREECE
We watched our ship arrive from Greece around 2:00 PM, and were told we could board at about 7:30 or so. The SS Valentino requires most vehicles to either drive on at Brandisi, then back off when we arrive at Patra, Greece, or to back on in Brandisi, then drive off at Patra. Many trucks (some were eighteen wheelers), a few RVs, cars, and tour buses drove, or backed onto the SS Valentino before us, then dozens of cars, buses, trucks, and campers of various sizes came on later. We noticed one trucker had a small TV mounted on the dash.
Most of the trucks were parked in the lower decks, but there was an elevator to lift the huge eighteen wheeler tractor-trailer trucks, and some of the campers, to the open top deck. Refrigeration trucks were parked on the top deck since they must run refrigerator motors all night to keep their cargo cold.
Also on the ship was a bus from the company called “Top Deck.” This old double decked London bus had been outfitted with seats, a kitchen, toilets, bunks (including, we were told, a rather secluded “passion pit”), as needed to accommodate the group of hardy youths for a tour of Europe. We’ve seen Top Deck buses many times, in many countries.
On the SS Valentino the elevator took our RV, with us inside, to the top deck where we parked at the port rail, and enjoyed our slowly-rolling, slightly-pitching campsite as the ship sailed the Adriatic, past Greek Islands, to the city of Patra. That was a campsite to remember; the most unusual we have enjoyed in the twelve- to fifteen-hundred nights we have spent in a trailer or RV.
Of all the nights we have spent in a camping spot, none even approximates the thrill of eating our dinner in the RV, then spending the night camped on the moving ship. The next day we enjoyed breakfast and lunch as we sailed the Adriatic from Italy to Greece. Jim always tries to select exceptional locations with a magnificent view from our dining room window at breakfast, lunch and dinner time, from our bedroom window at sunset and sunrise. This locale transcended his previous selections.
In the evening the TV in the ship’s lounge played the “Jefferson’s,” dubbed in Italian. Later they had US movies with the English sound track, but with Greek sub-titles.
We have visited Italy on eight different years, and can’t wait to return, but believe it, if we have to leave Italy we can’t do it in a more magnificent manner than being camped at the rail of a ship!
Chapter 26
Sardinia
%SARDINIA
Earlier we mentioned that we had studied a map of Italy and decided we wanted to visit the complete length of the Italian “boot.” It appeared that if we drove to Livorno, loaded the RV onto the ferry to Corsica, rode another ferry to Sardinia, yet another to Sicily, then still one more ferry to the “toe” of Italy, that would be a lot more fun, a lot more entertaining and educational than just a round trip drive the length of Italy.
We sailed from Livorno, Italy to Bastia, Corsica (part of France), spent a few days touring this captivating island, and found the town of Bonifacio, on the southern tip of Corsica, made it all worthwhile. Bonifacio, an outstanding ancient town, sits high on the edge of a cliff, with walls and a fortress, colorful shopping streets, with multicolored buildings on the lower level, right along the harbor. During a visit to Sardinia, with a couple of hours to spend, we highly recommend a short trip to Bonifacio.
The night was spent in a beautiful campsite on the shores of the Mediterranean. At the ferry dock the next morning, we were informed that space needed for our “large” vehicle was sold out for the rest of the month. We said we would wait. When it happened that space was available, the ticket clerk (a Frenchman) was so disappointed to be proven wrong, he almost didn’t sell us a ticket. An Italian ticket-taker would have smiled and almost cheered our good luck.
It was a glorious 30 minute ferryboat ride to Sardinia. The view back to Bonifacio, with the colors of the cliffs, the buildings, and the deep blue sea, was exceptionally beautiful. Bonifacio rates high on our list of places to see again. In 1980 the ferryboat ride to Sardinia cost $28 for the RV and the two passengers, and we have yet to blunder into a more wonderful way to spend $28.
The ferry arrived at the northern tip of Sardinia, at S. Teresa Gallura, after about a thirty minute ride. We found Sardinia to be a land of contrast: there is a Sardinia of large villas, luxury hotels and yacht harbors; a Sardinia of mountains, shepherds and farmers; and the archeological Sardinia with four to six thousand year old ruins. There is the Sardinia of women in confining black dresses, their heads covered with long knitted black shawls; and the Sardinia of sunbathers wearing half of a tiny bikini.
The north-eastern corner of the island is called the Costa Smeralda (The Emerald Coast), a beautiful coastal area that has become an ultra-expensive resort area. The Cala Di Volte is a fashionable resort built by the Aga Kahn as a playground and destination resort for Kings, Queens, and other wealthy vacationers who want to see and be seen. (No, we didn’t spent the night!)
We walked around inside the resort and walked by the huge swimming pool area. No one was swimming, but several young ladies were on display (and we do mean on display), and several other people were sitting at the pool-side restaurant.
We spoke to the concierge of the hotel and told him we were traveling through Sardinia in an RV. Although he spends his working hours associating with wealthy people, he was pleased that we cared to see his country, and he was very interested in our mode of travel. He got out his maps of Sardinia and gave us information that proved very helpful during our stay on the island. He was pleased that we were interested in seeing his country, close up.
The scenery hereabouts is marvelous, with many vacation homes and condos already existing, or in the process of being built. Yacht basins have lots of boats and space for more.
When we tried to get schedule information and a ticket for the ferry to Trapani, Sicily in a few days, we were told the “computer is down,” and they had no idea when the “computer would be up.” Now isn’t that amazing, here we are on the more or less primitive island of Sardinia, and we are told the “computer is down,” just like we hear so often at home. Is there no place to hide from the domination and oppression of computer technology! (For nearly 30 years Jim made his living in the computer business, but he takes no blame for this, or any other computer snafu. He understands why they don’t always work right, but he rejects responsibility.)
Although not often a part of a Humberd vacation, we spent some time on the public beach. The sand was warm and pleasurable, but the water was cold and the wind cool. We were surrounded by obviously healthy, but very poor ladies — they could only afford half of a bathing suit! In sharp contrast to the thousands of Sardinian women who are dressed in black, when we near the beach, the style of dress changes drastically. We have a strong suspicion that the women in the long black dresses and the women with the half bathing suit, are not the same people. (In Portugal one year we saw a clothes line with a dozen heavy long black dresses, with one tiny lacy bikini panty, almost hidden in the middle of the line.)
A couple of days later we found the computer was “up,” and we bought our tickets to Sicily. In 1980 the cost for the RV and an over-night room on the ferryboat from Cagliari, Sardinia to Trapani, Sicily was $144. We asked, but they do not permit people to spend the night in their RV or trailer while on the ship. (Since we are on an island and the ferry only runs a couple of times a week, we had to violate our rule of (almost) no advance tickets.)
%SINISCOLA
We headed south along the east coast, and stopped and walked in the town of Siniscola. The stores we visited had interesting cork covered pottery, and other cork items for sale, as we had seen in Corsica. It was interesting to note that many of the cork products in Corsica were labeled, “Made in Italy,” and were priced at least double the cost in Sardinia.
As we drove through Sardinia we saw acres of cork trees and there were always cork products for sale in the stores. The cork trees look something like olive trees. To harvest, the thick bark is sliced off the tree trunk, dried in huge piles, then made into various products, the most familiar of course being bottle stoppers. Although we didn’t learn how often the cork-bark is harvested, the process of removing the layers of bark reminds us of shearing sheep once a year. In southern Portugal another year, we saw miles of trees, and huge piles of cork drying in the sun.
Agriculture is important to the economy of Sardinia, especially sheep and goats, wheat and barley, grapes and olives. Fishing and cork production are also important to the economy, and there is more and more development for the tourist industry. We noticed fields of sweet smelling lavender thistles. Sometimes they looked like weeds, sometimes the lavender thistles looked like a crop, we don’t know which it was, or perhaps it was both.
This hilly area is served by many dirt roads. We noted a lot of cactus of various kinds covering the hill-sides. New homes were in the process of being constructed, but many were partially built, and appeared to have been in that condition for quite some time. That reminds us of what we saw in southern Italy, Greece, and (former) Yugoslavia. Families build only what they can afford today, but design the building so it can be built and lived in, piece by piece, and added to, generation by generation.
%NUORO
At Nuoro, located in a mountainous area, we stopped and bought some fruit, paying 50 cents each for two grapefruit that the label said were from Israel. At one place we saw a cantaloupe for $5, but we didn’t buy that. Though we saw a lot of apartment buildings, we only saw small grocery stores. As we remember in Portugal, in Sardinia sometimes a grocery store is the size of a one-car garage, a supermarket the size of a double garage, and a hyper-market, is the size of a three car garage.
Following the instructions of our friend, the concierge at Cala Di Volte, we drove across Sardinia to the west side of the island, to the town of Bosa. There were rolling hills, or small mountains most of the way, and many villages were built high on top of hills, accessible only by dirt roads. At one place we thought we were close to a town, but it took five miles of twisting and climbing on the dirt roads before we finally arrived.
Trees were scarce, mainly concrete poles were being used for the electric and telephone wires, and small concrete poles were used to hold up vines in the vineyards of Sardinia.
%BOSA
We arrived in Bosa at about 2:00 PM and found a hot and dusty town, with everything still closed for lunch and siesta. We parked in the shade of some palm trees, and walked through the town. The Castle of Serravalle on the hill above Bosa, dominates the town, and appeared interesting, but the street leading from the town was undrivable, and almost unwalkable. The weather was very hot, so we walked part way, but not the whole way to the top.
%FLUSSIO
As we drove through the town of Flussio we saw reeds of some kind drying on the sidewalks. We stopped and watched the ladies weave baskets, and of course bought a couple of baskets and took a couple of pictures. Over the next day or two, we saw this in other villages, also.
HITCH-HIKER
We spotted an elderly man hitch-hiking on the country road, a few miles from any town. Since it was so hot and isolated, we picked him up, used a map to determine where he was going, and drove him to his town. We weren’t going his way, but then we didn’t know or care which way we were going anyway, so what did it matter? We had a US flag in the window of the RV and he understood we were Americans. As he got out of the camper, he used sign language to thank us and invite us to his home for a drink.
We had never seen this before, he shaped his hand as if holding a bottle, then placed his thumb in his mouth and tipped his head back, to let us know what he was “saying.” Why we said no, we will never understand, but since we don’t drink alcohol we didn’t know how to say no without hurting his feelings, but we wished we had tried. It would have been nice if we could have made him understand we didn’t want anything to drink, but would love to meet his family, see where he lived and worked, and communicate with him, the best we could.
This is just another time where the lack of a common language was a great disappointment. So he thanked us for the ride and we bid him good-bye. (One time while parked in Budapest, a man stopped and asked Emmy for a drink. She gave him a paper cup of water. He took a taste, made a face, spit it out, gave her a nasty look, and went on his way.)
%DORGALI
The inhabitants of Dorgali are essentially engaged in agriculture and handicrafts. Formerly a Saracen (nomads, Arabs) colony, Dorgali is a traditional Sardinian village. We had not found an open grocery store in Nuoro, so looked for a store in Dorgali. We still couldn’t buy any bread, they were sold out. A lady who spoke some English said they know from experience about how many people will buy bread in a given day, so they just bake so many loaves, and when it's gone that’s all there is.
We looked at the map, tried to ask some people, but the best we could figure, it was 63 miles to the next campsite.
%CALA GONONE
Just a couple of miles after we left Dorgali we saw a camping sign pointing through a tunnel on our left, toward Cala Gonone, a campsite not noted on our map. As we came out of the tunnel we were overlooking a steep, tight switch-back road dropping down to the coast. A beautiful view, but we were thankful it was still light, we try never to make a nighttime drive on an unfamiliar winding road.
It was about four twisty, hairpin miles down to the town of Cala Gonone, right on the Tyrrhenian Sea (which separates Sardinia from mainland Italy). This large campsite is run by a man from Chicago, and his wife from Sardinia. They live and work here in summer, and live and work in Chicago in the winter. What a contrast that must be — warm sunny summers; icy, windy, cold winters (Emmy was born in Chicago, and that’s where Jim met and married her. Chicago’s cold, cold winter weather was one of the main reasons we left there nearly 50 years ago.)
Emmy asked for directions to find a good pizza restaurant. This being a resort area there are several restaurants, but we had to wait until they were ready to serve at 8:00 PM. They have a large brick oven shaped like a dome inside. A fire is built on one side inside the oven, and the pizza is placed on the other. Emmy said it was an excellent pizza.
%DORGALI, AGAIN
The next morning we drove back to Dorgali, and since it was a Saturday and the stores would not be open on Sunday, it was important to do our grocery shopping before noon. With the weekend coming up, we bought meat, fruit and vegetables, then found a bakery and looked for bread to buy.
The lady at the campsite had told us that a big flat, round loaf of Sardinian bread (baked only on Saturdays at some bakeries) was excellent, and remains edible for several days. We found that was not only true, the bread was delicious. We found this same tasty loaf of bread two different years at an Italian bakery, with a Chinese baker, in the Place d’Aligre, in Paris. The third time we looked, the building was being torn down, and the bakery was no where to be found in that Paris neighborhood.
At the Dorgali Post Office most of the crowd of women waiting for the Post Office to open, were dressed in black, with a black head-scarf. When the Post Office did open, it appeared the women were expecting, and getting a check — at least they were getting a similar, official looking envelope.
In many of these small towns we found the houses, while not often very fancy, had doors that were. Brass knobs, with glass, and filigree screens, and often two doors, side by side.
The little towns hung on the side of hills, with the dirt roads winding around and up and down, twisting and turning for miles. Sardinia seems to have a great contrast between one side of a hill and the other. The topography, flowers, rocks, trees, farming, or the lack of it, even the look of the little villages seem to change within a very few miles.
%BARUMINI
The hotel concierge a couple of days before, told us to be sure and visit Barumini to see the ruins of an ancient village called Auraghe su Nuraghi. Barumini dates from maybe 4000 BC, and consists mainly of bee-hive shaped stone huts built without mortar. It appeared to be a massive fortress formed of several towers connected by galleries, and courtyards with wells. The main building was several floors high, and there were levels below ground. Many stairs and passageways were still usable.
CAMPING NEAR CAGLIARI
We drove to Cagliari, then on and on looking for a campsite. Since we were tired from several days of difficult driving, had we known how many miles (maybe 30) it would take to find a campsite, we would have gone to a hotel. Each sign we found seemed to say, “… just a few more miles.” We found one that was filled, another was closed, must have missed another one or two, but finally found an open campground many miles from where we wanted to be.
The campsite was right on the shore, but there was only mud for the first few feet along the shore, and no sandy beach for those who wanted to go into the water. Perhaps it was low tide, we never found out. At the first place we parked, the electrical hookup required one set of plugs, and when we moved to the other side of the campsite (can’t remember why we did that), we found it took a completely different electrical plug to connect to power. People seemed to be here on extended vacations, rather than over-night stays.
The next morning, as we drove back to Cagliari, the beach looked better than it had the evening before, most likely because we had a good night’s sleep. It’s amazing what that will do for a traveler. Miles of small “changing” cabins, that we assume could be rented for the day, lined the beach. As we drove, we saw places where people had piled plastic bags filled with trash along the road. As mentioned elsewhere, the Italians put the debris in a bag, and put it where it can be picked up, but there just don’t seem to be enough trucks to do the job.
HOTEL MEDITERRANEO
We decided to live it up and get a hotel room, something we have done only 23 times in our almost 1,000 nights in Europe (the last time we stayed in a hotel room in Europe was in Prague in 1985). At the Hotel Mediterraneo we had two rooms, one with a couch, chair, wardrobe, a stocked refrigerator (wine, alcoholic drinks, and Coca Cola), and a nice writing desk. The other room had two single beds, night stands with lamps, a radio, another wardrobe and a nice desk/dresser. The furniture was very modern. We had two balconies, the bath was tiled and had a bidet and a corner shower. Cost of a night (1980) at the Hotel Mediterraneo was $62, including breakfast. From our room we could see a good bit of the city and had an unobstructed view of the Mediterranean. But since the sun was not shining, the sea looked gray.
At that time our daughter was dating (by now they’ve been married for many years) a young man whose mother had been born in Cagliari, and whose Aunt still lived there. We found a map and located her apartment, but she was not home. We left a message “Amico Danny O. from California. Hotel Mediterraneo. English Solo.” When she called, with the help of the English-speaking young man at the hotel desk, we made arrangements to meet Olga the next afternoon.
After walking around the city for a couple of hours, we fixed our dinner in the RV in the hotel parking lot, with a beautiful view of the harbor. Bet that was a first for that parking lot.
%CAGLIARI
We walked around the town, including climbing a long set of stairs, to the Terrazza Umberto, near the hotel. This terrace is laid out on the site of a Spanish bastion, dating from the 1500s. From there the view is interesting and includes the lower town, the harbor, the lagoon, and the pine wood forest in the distance. But we neglected to walk far enough to visit the Cattedrale (Cathedral) standing in the old quarter. It was built in the Romanesque-Gothic style in the 1200s. We thought we had read the literature, but not until we left Sardinia did we discover we could have visited a Roman Amphitheater (Anfiteatro Romano), an ancient structure that is the largest Roman monument in Sardinia. Next time.
The next day we walked some more, looked around the city, and used our Visa card to get money from the bank (before ATM machines). It seemed to take forever this time. Usually with the Visa card, we get money quickly, and sometimes it seems to take the longest in California, where the Visa card was born as the BankAmericard.
LUNCH WITH OLGA AND THE DOCTOR
At about mid-afternoon Olga and her friend arrived, right on schedule. After seeing so many Sardinian women in black shawls, etc., Emmy was pleased and surprised to see this well dressed, chic woman arrive at the hotel. Her Doctor friend could speak a little English, so we got into his air conditioned Alfa Romeo for the drive to the restaurant. He asked if we liked seafood, and Jim said Emmy does, so off we went for a late lunch for them, and since our ferry was leaving for Sicily in a couple of hours, this was an early dinner for us.
While driving rapidly toward the restaurant on a very empty, very wide street, we suddenly saw a motorcyclist right in front of us, stopped smack in the middle of the street. Don’t know where he came from, or how we missed him, but the Doctor swerved and we went on from there. The people at the restaurant knew the Doctor and Olga, and we were soon seated with a view of the sea.
The following discussion is unique in our book. It has certainly been determined by now that we spend little or no time in restaurants, at least partially because we cannot understand the menu. We were first served bread with ham and sausage, and raw oysters in the shell. Then the Doctor asked if Emmy liked pasta, and of course she said yes. Three plates of ravioli and some other plain pasta with abundant tomato sauce soon arrived — very appetizing, Emmy said. He asked if Emmy liked lobster, and thinking the meal was over and he was just making conversation, Emmy said yes again. Boy, Jim would like to get a yes to his questions that easily and enthusiastically!
The oysters and sausages were each served from a large bowl, the pasta came on individual plates, and then came the lobster on one big plate, family style. The waiter removed it from the shell for Emmy. The lobster was cold and served with a vinaigrette sauce; magnificent, according to Emmy. But she didn’t like the dark, salmon colored caviar, at all. We had plenty to drink, Cokes, Perrier water, and they drank wine and whiskey.
For desert they brought a fruit cup with ice cream on top. Emmy would have preferred plain ice cream, but it was delicious. The Doctor only knew very basic English words, so it was very difficult to communicate, but we did understand when he insisted on picking up the bill. Since he knew, and could talk to the waiter, we didn’t stand a chance.
While all of this was going on, Jim consumed BB&C (bread, butter and Coke) and no mention (that we understood) was made of his non-interest in eating the food in this restaurant. Now don’t get the idea that’s all he eats, just a year earlier in a restaurant in Tangiers, Morocco he enjoyed a dinner with a different menu, BB&P — bread, butter and Pepsi.
He is thrilled when people order or serve just what they like and don’t worry about his dinner. He wants Emmy to have the opportunity to sample the specialty of the host, or the specialty of the house. It’s obvious he has missed few meals.
A REST, AND THE FERRY
We showed Olga and the Doctor the inside of our camper, then our visit was over. With the conversation so difficult we are sure they were as relieved as we were. We were very, very pleased to meet and spend the time with them, but we both (even though Emmy enjoyed the food very much) would have preferred to see someone’s home, and have a conducted tour of the city. For us, especially for Jim, food is a means to an end, not an end in itself! He eats to travel, he doesn’t travel to eat.
THE FERRY FROM SARDINIA TO SICILY
We had an hour to rest before driving onto the ferryboat. As soon as we parked, a large truck filled with smelly sheep parked right next to us. While we had asked if we could spend the night on the ship in our RV, after seeing our neighbor, we were very happy to have a small stateroom in which to spend the night.
The next morning, after we had arrived in Trapani and were driving off the ship, the sheep were even smellier, and we were even happier we had spent the night in a small room with bunk beds.
Chapter 27
Sicily
%SICILY
For reasons we still do not understand, on our first day on Sicily we covered, if it can be called that, more points of interest and more miles than on most other days. The bad part is, there was no reason to do that; we just hadn’t planned ahead, even a little bit. We were just so enthralled by what we saw, we had the urge to move on to the next stop because it might be even better. That wasn’t necessary; it was just the way it happened.
Luckily, while on the ship Jim was reading a fiction book with its setting in Sicily during WW II. One of the characters came upon some ruins of buildings near Agrigento, and was told by a Sicilian they were ruins partly as a result of a war. The American was surprised to find he meant some war a couple of thousand years ago, not WW II. Jim told Emmy we will look on the map, and if Agrigento is real and not fiction, we must go and see what there is to see. (It was and we did!)
%TRAPANI
Our ship arrived at Trapani, Sicily at 7:00 AM, well before anything except the street market was open. We drove through Trapani, turning here and there, finally stopping at an early morning fruit market, and bought supplies. As we left the city we had a lovely ride on the Autostrada, no toll — compliments of Sicily. The farming area looked beautiful and neat with few weeds, and the mountains are attractive. Good first impression of Sicily.
%PALERMO
But we have a very confused memory of Palermo. Most likely it’s a pretty city with many interesting buildings, monuments and parks, but the day we visited, Palermo was very smoggy and unkempt, with bags of rubbish all over the place. It was pick-up day. We saw the trucks, but there were plenty of bags that hadn’t been picked up in a long, long time.
As we drove along a couple of the main streets small (two by three feet) unkempt advertising signs placed every ten yards along the curb, made that part of Palermo look junky! Of more importance, we found absolutely no place for parking, legal or illegal, near anywhere we wanted to be, and after a while weren’t too sure we wanted to park. (By hindsight, that was ridiculous on our part!) The traffic was heavy, the parking non-existent.
Along one street several vendors were selling outdoor furniture at several spots along the curb. Umbrellas were set right at the edge of the street so they stuck out into the traffic lane, higher than a car, but not as high as our RV. We missed most of them until we were forced into the right lane by a wild truck driver. In the rear view mirror we could see a couple of people catching umbrellas with one hand and shaking their fist with the other. The street was jammed with vehicles, traffic was moving rather fast, there was no curb-side parking, and in the rear-view mirror it appeared there was no damage to the umbrellas. They were just barely touched, but not broken (we hope), but there was no way we could stop and talk to anyone.
As at Naples, what we saw through the windshield, books we have since studied, and what Jim was told by a man born in Palermo, there is much to see in what to us was a very muddled city. While the city was badly damaged by bombings during World War II, we saw no sign of war damage when we visited, 35 years after the war was over.
One guidebook mentions picturesque alleys festooned with washing hung out to dry, fashionable quarters with trees, and houses with fine palm planted gardens. At night tourists and Palermans gather to enjoy cream-puffs, fruit sherbets, melon ice, and other delicacies. But we spent only an hour or so in Palermo, and that’s not nearly enough time to see a city of around one million population, with so many sights to see. As we drove here and there in the city, we do remember streets that were of interest, and buildings we would have liked to visit, but no place to stop, let alone park.
The guidebook mentions the Centro della Cittá (Town Center), with three pretty squares; the Quattro Centi or Four Corners (with canted walls in the Spanish Baroque style), Piazza Pretoria (reached by stairs, with a spectacular fountain), and the Piazza Bellini (Martorana and the San Cataldo, two buildings typical of Palermo) that are floodlit in the evening.
San Giovanni degli Eremiti (St. John of the Hermits), constructed with the help of Arab architects in the early 1100s, is crowned with picturesque pink domes. The Cathedral, built in the Sicilian-Norman style (there’s no way to describe that in less than a page or two) in the late 1100s, has often been restored and modified. Several Palaces, gardens, churches and museums are of interest, including the Museo Archeologico housed in a monastery built in the 1500s. This museum contains products of excavations and a variety of items brought here from Egypt. There’s also a collection of Greek vases and Roman mosaics.
As we have mentioned before, there is no place we have visited in Italy, or in all of our travels that we would not gladly revisit tomorrow. Believe it, both Naples and Palermo are high on the list of places that must be seen again, or in our case, for almost, but not quite, the first time.
THE COUNTRYSIDE
The drive from Palermo to Agrigento was very pleasant. The countryside looked similar to Northern Europe, but maybe not quite as green. It looked as if just a little more rain would solve that problem. There were beautiful farms on rolling hills, but it’s not as sharply hilly as Sardinia.
Emmy loved the purple and red wild flowers in abundance in the countryside in Sardinia. We didn’t see them in this part of Sicily, but instead found many clumps of yellow flowers. We stopped at a road-side fruit stand where they had the first good apricots we have seen this season, none before were so sweet. Fruit seems to cost three times as much here, as it would cost in the US. Of course the real cost of living is based on income, and we don’t know what that might be for these people. We would guess that food takes a larger portion of their income, than it would for a similar family in the US.
%AGRIGENTO
We continued to Agrigento where fascinating Greek temple ruins date from 500 to 700 BC. Originally planned for a population of 150,000, Agrigento now is home to fewer than half that number. We found a parking place near the center of the city, and walked and walked. We saw mostly older buildings, by that we mean buildings that are a few centuries old, not a couple of millenniums like the Greek Temples a few miles away. Right in downtown there was a rather new, interesting round building that is several stories tall, and we remember the Post Office was in a very substantial facility. Agrigento is also the site of early Christian catacombs and medieval churches.
As we try to do everywhere, we drove on some residential streets to see how the people live, and found this is the one city in all our trips where we needed a tape recorder. We carried one for a couple of years and found no need for it, but in Agrigento the fruit and vegetable vendor, with his donkey-drawn cart, was singing his own special song, advertising the goods he had for sale.
We know they did this years ago, and have seen it in movies, but did not expect it was still being done. He was making beautiful, useful music — certainly much better than the “toot-toot” of the bakery truck’s horn in Los Angeles years ago; the recorded “music” of the Good Humor ice cream truck; the “tinkle, tinkle” of the bell on the horse drawn wagons used to deliver milk and meat to Jim’s home in Pennsylvania in the early 1930s. We have seen and heard the singing vegetable vendor nowhere else in all of Italy, or in any other country we have visited. The only thing that was even close to this was the young woman in an outdoor fish market in Ghent, Belgium, with a melodious singsong sales pitch about the low price, and good quality of her herring.
As would be expected in a city of this age, several museums display archaeological objects a couple of thousand years old, from the nearby Valley of the Temples as well as sacerdotal vestments (relating to the priesthood) dating from several hundred years ago. One place displayed two fine caskets made of French Limoges enamelware in the 1100s. An item of enamelware (a painting) we bought in Limoges 850 years later, decorates a wall in our home.
Agrigento is a middle size town (50,000 population) on a hilltop a couple of miles from the Mediterranean Sea. When we left the city and headed for the Greek temples, we first went down a steep hill, across a valley then up another hill to the ruins. The sea is still a good distance away, far below this hilltop, and we remember these hillsides as rather barren of vegetation.
VALLE DEI TEMPLI
Valle dei Templi (Valley of the Temples) just south of Agrigento, has eight sacred buildings, among which are the Tempio di Giunone Lacinia (Temple of Juno), and the Tempio della Concordia (Temple of Concord), a perfectly preserved example of the Doric style of the fifth century BC. The Temples of Hercules, Jupiter, Dioscuri, Ercole, Esculapio, di Giove, complete the eight. One reference says there were originally ten temples, including the Temple of Zeus, 372 feet by 184 feet, one of the largest in the Greek world. We have visited several archaeological sites in Greece, Turkey, and in Italy, and none had more Grecian antiquities than Agrigento.
The retired archaeologist from England we met in Paestum a few years later said this was the best example of Greek ruins we would find anywhere. He also said we were about the only non-archaeologists he ever met who had visited both Paestum and Agrigento (and we later visited archaeological sites in Turkey, in Greece, and on the Greek Islands). We didn’t bother to tell him we also knew less about archaeology than anyone he ever met at one of these sites.
One of the temples was being renovated and had a fence around it to keep out the curious. Along the side of the hill toward the other temple, there was a series of “works” of some kind, also dating from the same ancient times. Another temple appeared quite complete, but still was protected from tourists. This was the hottest day we ever experienced in any part of Europe. While walking up and down these barren hills was exhausting for Emmy, Jim’s a desert rat, the hotter the better.
That’s not much to say about these fascinating structures, but then as we have already said, we aren’t archaeologists. There are libraries filled with books on that subject, if more information is needed to ensure a visit to Agrigento.
We drove back through Agrigento, but could not find our way to Enna. They had just completed a new highway and were in the process of installing new direction signs. We could not follow the old signs; that road was already blocked. Finally we stopped at a garage to “ask” directions. One of the mechanics, who “said” he was going to lunch, gestured, “Follow me,” a phrase that is our favorite when directions are perplexing. He was going “our way” for a distance that was far enough to get us out of Agrigento. The drive, partially on the old and partly on the new road was quite complicated. It was so nice of him to help. Just one more of the hundreds of times an Italian has proved to be friendly, helpful, and wonderful.
%ENNA
In the center of Sicily, Enna, an intriguing city built high on a plateau, is called a very Sicilian city. (We always wonder when guidebooks make statements like that. Since Enna is located in Sicily, we didn’t expect it to be a very Swedish city). We drove the steep, but wide streets to the top of the hill, for a beautiful view over the countryside and the hilltop towns on the horizon. We stopped at a cemetery near the top of the town, and found little cement slab houses built over many of the graves. In Sarlat, France, we found little grave-houses, but they were made of glass, like greenhouses.
It was nap time; Enna was closed for lunch — like from noon to three or four o’clock. So after a drive-through the city, we continued on our way toward Sicily’s east coast. Here again, after we thought about it later, we weren’t in a hurry, and it was ridiculous not to enjoy more of this interesting city. It’s not as if we expect to visit here again, any year soon.
%CALASCIBETTA
Enna has a twin city on the hill across the valley, named Calascibetta — we didn’t explore it, but we looked and looked from the distance. Even Jim can conquer only so many of these hilltop towns and cities in any given day.
Ten years later Jim saw a magazine photo of a hilltop city that he was sure was the one on the hill across from Enna. The picture was labeled Calascibetta, and Jim checked our travel journal to make sure he had the name right.
NAME-CATCHING — NAME DROPPING
As must have been deduced by now, Jim gets a kick out of doing that and has “trademarked” that activity as “name-catching,” one of the joys of travel. Our ear may catch the name, and our eye may catch a picture of a thousand cities, towns, or buildings, and with the help of our mind’s eye we find an added reward for our years of travel. Jim likes that even more than “name dropping,” of which he is often justifiably accused.
%SIRACUSA
Siracusa is picturesque and has many ruins of note. It was as exciting as people said it would be. For its size, there are more ancient items of interest, than any other city we can remember. Olive groves and vineyards filled the countryside as we drove the Autostrada to Siracusa, but we couldn’t understand why a lady from Sweden, who we met earlier, told us the Siracusa area looks like Switzerland. What a wild imagination she had. It was eye-catching, but certainly not Switzerland.
Siracusa was colonized by the Greeks a long time ago, in 734 BC. The largest city of antiquity, Siracusa boasted half a million inhabitants, surrounded by a fourteen mile city wall, at a time when Rome was little more than a village. A much later curiosity is the Romanesque Church of San Giovanni and its ancient crypt, where Saint Paul is reported to have preached. The enormous catacombs, second in importance only to those of Rome, were presumably built by third-century Christians.
In BC days Siracusa was ruled by dictators called Tyrants, a name derived from a Greek word, and passed on to the English language. From what history books say, they really were tyrants, bullies and oppressors. One was so hated he slept in a different room each night, so no one would know where to find him. He would not trust a barber to give him a shave — that razor was so sharp, and would be so close to his throat.
In Siracusa, in 287 BC, Archimedes, the greatest mathematician of ancient times, discovered that “… any body immersed in water loses weight equivalent to that of the water it displaces.” A famous story relates that having discovered this while in his bath, the “absentminded professor” ran naked through the streets crying, “Eureka,” or “I have found it.” Surprise! They didn’t remember to keep the bath tub or the bath water as a tourist attraction!
Archimedes was so absentminded and so involved in his work he would forget to eat and drink. When an army invaded Siracusa in 212 BC he was so busy he didn’t notice the intrusion, and “… a solider ran him through with his sword.”
ZONA ARCHEOLOGICA
In the Zona Archeologica in the northwest part of the city of Siracusa, the Greek theater is one of the largest (440 feet across) and best preserved theaters from ancient times. As we have found so many times, classic plays are still given in this ancient theater. The seats were carved from the rocky hillside, and from the top row of seats there’s a nice view of the city of Siracusa.
Further up the hill, and a short walk from the theater, the Roman Amphitheater was hewn out of rock in the 100s AD, rather new compared to some of the other things around here. What is different from the other dozen amphitheaters we remember, is that this one was carved down into a rocky hill, rather than being built by stacking blocks of stone above street level. Now overgrown with grass and umbrella pines, it was once the scene of combat between gladiators and wild animals.
Most, or perhaps all of the Greek and Roman theaters we have visited, being a half oval or half round structure, were carved into a side of a hill. The amphitheaters we have seen, being a complete oval or round structure, were built of blocks of stone laid above ground. As we remember, sometimes the “playing field” and the storage area and pens for animals were underground, but this is the only one we remember that was carved in this manner. What remains of the amphitheater at Lecce was below ground level, but since only a small portion remains it was difficult to tell if it had been built by excavating the whole thing, but perhaps only the lower rows of seats were below ground.
At one place the entrance (118 feet high, 75 feet wide) to a cave was shaped like an earlobe and is famous for its echo. It is called the Orecchio di Dionisio (Ear of Denys), named for the Tyrant Denys. Even now the acoustical effects are extraordinary. A sheet of paper torn in two produces an echo like a gunshot.
The guidebooks do not disclose and our travel journal and diary do not reveal the secret, but rattling around in the remote recesses of Jim’s brain is an impression of something of great fascination in this part of Siracusa. But for the life of him, he can’t recall what that might have been, and that page in Emmy’s diary is “blank.” Jim remembers it almost as if “it” really exists.
%ORTYGIA
The Cittá Vecchia (Old Town) is on an island called Ortygia, connected to the newer areas of Siracusa by a causeway. The streets of Ortygia are lined with mediaeval palaces, oratories (places for prayer), and many of the buildings have wrought iron balconies bright with flowers. We found our walk on this island to be very interesting, it reminded us so much of Ville Close (Walled Town), a small pork chop shaped island a few steps from Concarneau in Brittany, France.
In addition to Villa Close, the old town at Taranto, and the city center of Gallipoli (the later two in Italy) each occupies a small island that is connected to the shore by a bridge. Four amazing “harbor” islands that are each worth hours of anyone’s vacation time.
%THE ISLAND OF MALTA, ALMOST
We looked at the map and gave some thought of going to the Island of Malta, a few hours boat ride in the Mediterranean Sea, but then decided not to. Surprise — a few months later President Bush and Mr. Gorbachev of the Soviet Union decided to hold the 1989 “Summit Meeting” in Malta, and we sure wished we had spent the time and effort to visit. Jim would have had a superb excuse, as if he ever needs one, to “name catch” and “name drop,” if we had visited Malta! It looked spectacular in the TV news broadcasts. Well, next time!
%CATANIA
The campsite was on the beach a little south of Catania, with a lot of trees and many more-or-less permanent “camp” sites. We could see slightly-smoking Mt. Etna in the distance as we walked on the beach near our campsite.
We drove, parked, walked and drove some more through Catania, or at least tried to. The traffic was overwhelming, and the streets were very rough. It took forever to find a parking place, but the time is never wasted, we do sightsee while we are looking for a place to park. Catania is built on lava left by eruptions of Mount Etna and was rebuilt after the earthquakes of 1169 and 1693. Catania was seriously damaged in World War II, but like most every city and country we have visited, by the time of our visit, the city had been restored. About the only exception is Dresden, Germany where the rubble was carefully retained until money and skilled workmen were available for restoration. The fall of the Berlin Wall has expedited that work, but it will take years to completely restore Dresden.
Mt. Etna erupted with a heavy lava flow in 1669, but the three-story by-now hardened lava flow we saw as we drove on the edge of Catania, came from a more recent eruption. It reminded us of what we have seen at several places in Hawaii, and of course at Pompeii and Herculaneum, near Naples.
At stop lights in Catania people were standing in the traffic lanes selling fruit and various other products, or just asking for money. We don’t remember this elsewhere in Italy. Some were wearing a face mask because of the very smelly, smoggy traffic fumes. We lived in Los Angeles in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, and don’t remember smog as dense as in Palermo and Catania. The only other cities nearly as smoggy were Torino, Italy and Valencia, Spain. One day in Athens smog was bad, but not this bad.
It cost $67 to fill the tank with gasoline in Catania — one of the more expensive things we must do in Italy every few days. But when we consider that our campsite cost only $5 last night, the overall cost of living balances out. We paid $62 for that one night in the hotel in Cagliari, Sardinia. If we had to pay that, or a similar amount each night, we would still have to pay for transportation of some kind. A hotel each night, restaurants each day, a train, bus, rental car, or a tour group, would cost more than doing it our way, and we wouldn’t have the freedom to see all that we get to see. We always are more comfortable and sleep better in our familiar bed in the RV.
MT. ETNA
As we passed Mt. Etna we could see the plume of smoke coming from high on the side of the mountain. A few days later it seemed the plume was much larger, but there was no eruption of lava going on at this time. Maybe the wind was blowing from a different direction.
The median strip of the Autostrada in this part of Sicily is planted with oleander, but no one has remembered to make sure the weeds are not higher than the flowers. At several places a concrete retaining wall along the Autostrada is constructed with planter boxes high on the side of the highway, but if they remembered to plant anything except weeds, it has long ago died. As one man said, “Italy is not well organized.” They do a great job of designing and building, but they just aren’t too intrigued with maintenance! As stated earlier, sometimes the lack of maintenance in Italy leaves much to be desired, but most times it just looks quaint, unusual, and fascinating.
%TAORMINA
The town of Taormina is on a hill, as usual for this part of the world. The Italian road builders made a tunnel for the Autostrada right under the town, so Taormina’s thousands of years of existence continues, completely undisturbed by the needs of modern transportation. We drove up the narrow switch back road to Taormina, and fell in love with the place. Emmy immediately wanted to stay for an extra day or two. As we walked, we met a group of young people singing familiar Christian hymns as they wandered through the town. At a church situated along Corso Umberto (main street), the lovely bride in a traditional white gown was greeted by a crowd that undoubtedly included more tourists and gawkers, than friends and acquaintances.
When Taormina closed for lunch we drove the few miles to Lettojannie and checked into the campsite. We ate lunch, rested awhile, then went back to Taormina and spent the rest of the day just meandering and rambling here and there. The old Greek Theater, 358 feet across from tip to tip, was built to hold four thousand spectators, and its acoustics are excellent. It is situated on a point of land high above the Mediterranean Sea, with the seashore and the smoky tip of Mt. Etna on view just past the columns of the theater stage.
As at many ancient theaters, in the summertime classical plays are given in the Teatro Greco. With its location high on the edge of a 700 foot cliff overlooking the Mar Ionio (Ionian Sea), we don’t remember any we have seen in several countries that is situated with such a fabulous view, and whose perspective compares. With the Sea far below, with snow capped Mt. Etna silently smoking in the distance high above the stage, this is a genuinely exhilarating site.
Taormina is a captivating tourist town, very clean, picturesque, with plenty of places to spend our money. At one store Emmy bought a table cloth and a dozen napkins. Later that evening, as she was admiring her purchase, she found there were only six napkins in the package. When Emmy returned to the store on Taormina’s main street the next day and told the owner, he gave her another six without question. She also bought some napkins to go with a white tablecloth she bought while we were on the South Pacific island of Guam, earlier that same year.
For only $150 Emmy almost bought an antique 17th(?) century, round copper picture frame, with a picture surrounded with red velvet. But she restrained herself. If we could really know for sure — not that we disbelieved the seller, but what did we know about such things, and maybe the person who wanted to sell it had been misinformed.
The saleslady was going to visit the US the following year, and was so excited to be able to ask question after question about what to expect and what to see, and how long it would take to drive across our country, from coast to coast. That was a far-reaching, enjoyable conversation, and since we have traveled extensively in the US we hope the information we gave was of help. She had no appreciation of the number of miles from New York City to Los Angeles, and had scheduled that as a three-day trip. We hope she reconsidered either her travel time or her travel miles.
One year in California we met a caravan of a dozen, or more, Fiat automobiles filled with Italians, including several from Sicily. They had flown from Italy to New York, drove here and there across the United States, ending in California. They parked the cars, then flew home. Another plane load of Italians flew to California, drove the cars to New York, then flew home. Several tour groups were scheduled to use those same automobiles that summer, one driving west, the next one east, etc. There was a “wagon master,” or tour guide who made the reservations and arrangements, enforced the schedules and kept the group together. Seemed to us to be an excellent idea.
%LETTOJANNIE
The Lettojannie campsite was right under a very, very high Autostrada viaduct that connects hills north and south of town. Just beyond, south of here, is where the Autostrada goes through a tunnel under the town of Taormina, so as not to disturb this 2500 year old town.
One afternoon, as Emmy rested, Jim walked into Lettojannie, enjoyed the town and bought things we needed at a hardware store. The owner of that store had lived in Australia for many years, and was just thrilled to be living again in his homeland. He said that although the economic conditions could be better, Italians are living better today than their ancestors did.
Jim asked about all these homes and apartments that are partially complete, with people living in the completed portion. He said they will be completed just as soon as the money is available. Rather than build a small but complete building with the money available now, they build a portion of a much larger, more pretentious building, purposely designed so it can be partially built and lived in until money is available for more construction. When it is completed, maybe over a couple of generations, the finished product is a much larger home or apartment building, for the descendants and their offspring.
AN INFREQUENT BUS RIDE
During two trips we spent several days on Sicily, including four nights in the campsite in Lettojannie, a few miles north of Taormina. Just to be different, one afternoon we decided to leave the camper in the campground, and ride the bus to and from the city, as others were doing. We waited and waited, then as the group of us started to get on what turned out to be the wrong bus, the right one came along, paused for an instant, and in spite of the first driver blowing his horn trying to get the driver’s attention, that bus left. We now had another hour to wait. That’s one of the joys of trying to exist with public transportation. We much prefer to do it “our way.” Our way is usually never much of a problem, but this day we had decided to do it “their way.”
And that was just part of our travel problem. The huge city buses, most quite new, have very powerful motors. They are able to climb these extra steep narrow streets with power to spare, but they are often too large for this traffic and for these streets. (But come to think of it, some places a donkey-cart would be too large!)
As we were going through a town along the coast below Taormina, the large gravel truck in front of us just quit. Our bus driver, a skilled driver with a lousy attitude, drove his bus right up almost against the back of the truck, rather than staying back until the whole predicament could be understood. We were on a sharp curve, on a steep street, with our bus extending across both narrow lanes. With the bus in this position, the smaller auto traffic, that could have passed from the other direction, could not move either. For a minute we expected a fight would accompany all that bellowing.
Finally our bus was backed up a little, they found some people to move their parked cars, and several very large men bounced a very small car, with locked doors, out of its non-parking space and bounced it across the street into a similar space. Now our bus could slither toward Taormina an inch at a time, with several people guiding the driver to within a half inch of the vehicles on each side of our bus. Again, it would have made more sense for our driver to let some of the traffic from the other direction go ahead, but he got here first, and he wasn’t about to give up his space without a “fight.”
Finally we started up the steep switch-back road to Taormina, 675 feet above the Mediterranean Sea. All opposing traffic must stop and back up, or whatever, when a bus comes, especially with our driver. The road was so narrow and the switch-back curves so sharp, both the front and back of the bus touches the trees or bushes as it turned, and some places the bus must stop and back and turn some more to make it around the curves. We’ve had this same exhilarating experience in our RV a dozen times, but we always made it up this particular road easily, the several times we have driven here. Taormina has been here for 2300 years, but in the intervening centuries the road has not gotten bigger, the vehicles have.
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking, gawking, enjoying this city with the interminable beautiful views, many that included smoking Mt. Etna. Finally we arrived at the bus stop for the 6:30 bus back to the campsite, but it never arrived. Someone announced that there was a vehicle wreck somewhere on that road on the side of the hill, and all Taormina traffic is stopped in both directions until who knows when. There was another street on the north side of town, but it’s either not big enough for buses, or buses are not allowed on that street, and by now who knows or cares which.
We boarded the 7:30 bus, but it didn’t go anywhere for awhile. We finally arrived at the campsite at 8:15, and by 9:00 we were finished eating, the dishes are were washed and put away, the beds were made, and we were resting and reading. Surprising how easy and quick we can get settled for a good night’s sleep.
No one can ever convince us that it would be preferable to find a restaurant, wait for service, then find a hotel with a “strange” bed, without all the goodies in the refrigerator, and without the lights especially positioned so we can be comfortable while we read. Some people think travel in an RV is less than ideal, but no hotel could possibly match the convenience of this style of living, and in no way are hotels as well located as most campsites. The four hundred different European camping spots have always been quieter than the two dozen hotels where we have stayed, and we are certainly more comfortable in our home away from home.
SOME ICE CUBES
After the several hot days, Jim was in desperate need for ice cubes for Coke and ice tea American style. Since the 1977 Dodge camper (our 1980 trip) did not have a refrigerator that could make ice-cubes unless we were driving for several hours, we stopped at a couple of restaurants and asked to buy some ice. Most said none was available, but finally in a hotel bar they said maybe, just maybe they had some cubes.
When the bar was first opened a couple of years earlier someone had put water in the ice cube trays, but no one had even looked at them since. The freezer compartment was frosted into one solid white mass, but they chipped and chipped away. By now several people were involved, laughing and chipping, and finally reaching the tray with the ancient cubes. They were so happy, surprised and pleased that someone wanted this ice, they even refused the tip Jim tried to leave them.
%CASTLEMOLA
Surrounded by castle walls, Castlemola was once the rival of Taormina. The road to Castlemola was not rough, but it was steep and narrow, and it seemed the most narrow curvy places were where we would meet a redi-mix truck, or some other large vehicle associated with the building boom on the mountain side above Taormina.
The first time we arrived in Castlemola and tried to park in the city parking lot, the man in charge made us move on. He didn’t like something the size of our vehicle taking space among the usually small cars in his parking lot. After driving a little way into the town, we found a truck blocking our way. The driver had gone to lunch, but someone found him and he moved the truck, so we could continue our drive. We moved about two more blocks, then found we could go no farther. Luckily we were able to get turned around, then park with a terrific view over the hills with Mt. Etna in the distance. Far below were the town of Taormina and some castles, and across the Ionian Sea or Strait of Me
Tidbit by Jim and Emmy HumberdSimilar tidbits in: Book = Invitation to Italy, Travel Tidbits
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