Sicily-Erice & Trapani

The Tower-Erice

Salt-Tranpai

Found Ruin, Not Goats

March 31, 2014

Customs & Ceremonies

We've never been as lost as we were yesterday. It was only funny in retrospect, as are most of life's "adventures." But some Aussies we met today put things in perspective. They said we weren't lost; we were only misplaced.

Ah, the mysteries of Italian breakfasts. We were confronted with a bowl of water on the buffet table. Was it melted ice? Was there an expectation that we'd wash our hands before eating? If so, was a prayer required as with Passover? But there was a clue. A bowl of fruit sat nearby. There was a large fabric napkin on the table flanked by two enormous spoons. The light dawned. The water was to wash the fruit before eating. How sanitary! Everyone got to wash their fruit in the same water. Lucky for us the hotel hardly had any guests. Our chances of contamination diminished. I chose a huge kiwi & did the ablutions. I cut into the succulent innards & we shared what turned out to be the most tasteless kiwi I'd every bitten into. Shame on you, New Zealand.

Knowing we could now find our hotel using the GPS, we braved the wilds of Marsala in search of a laundry. It was right where it was supposed to be. Judi & I went in to negotiate our needs & David stayed parked in an actual legal space. We needed the clothes back by tomorrow morning. Our first problem came when the clerk showed us the days on a calendar. I recognized the names of the days from French, but the layout of the calendar was unfamiliar. It dawned on me that the first day of their week was Monday. It all fell into place. Time of pick-up was another issue. Ten o'clock sounded ok when I remembered they use a twenty-four hour clock & she wasn't talking about 10 PM. Our cost was E$15. Reasonable considering the hotel charges E$3 per pair of underpants.

We turned toward the medieval town of Erice via the road to Trapani. I read about the coastal islands we were passing & about the yearly Great Tuna Massacre still practiced today. It’s a macabre example of drift net fishing. Vegetarians & the squeamish stop reading here. Tuna come to the waters off this coast to spawn. Following the old Arab practice, huge nets are dropped into the seas, small boats are used to herd the tuna into nets, hooks & poles are used to gaff them, & it's all over in fifteen minutes. The entire bloody event is accompanied by priestly chanting, an echo from the old tradition, & is now a major tourist attraction. Buono appetito.

Greater Expectations

The topography became pretty again. It looked a bit like the outskirts of Akron with rolling green hills & vineyards. Olive groves told us we definitely weren't home anymore. We saw plastic bottles still dangling from the trees as Marco described to us yesterday. He said that flies are a huge problem for the olives. Instead of spraying poison on the entire grove, farmers hang plastic bottles filled with sardines & poisoned sweet water. The smell attracts the flies who die after a bountiful feast. The smell also probably repels olive poachers.

Erice is perched 2,500 feet above Trapani. The approach is a 15km half hour climb up twisting roads. The blue triangle indicating our car on the GPS twirled in circles as we turned one switchback after another.

It was love at first sight for us. We parked outside the walls & entered a city that time had forgotten. The preservation was marvelous & even the gift shops tucked into quiet alleys were inconspicuous enough to be overlooked. Well, we really didn't do that. I've been searching for a hippo for Rylee's "collection" & Sicily wasn't an easy place to find one. I'd learned the Italian for it (hippopatomo- said with an Italian accent) & finally hit pay dirt. The proprietor was as surprised to have a hippo buyer as I was to find a green hippo bank. I haven't checked to see if it was "made in China."

We strolled well-worn cobblestone streets perched above the clouds, gazed at Trapani below, the seas, & the remarkable islands. Church steeples & domes cropped up around every bend dotting the skyline with their ancient presence. People still inhabited this magical aerie of a village & we were privileged to share their world for a few hours. We were fortunate that tourists were at a minimum & we had the streets to ourselves.

David had to run back to update our parking ticket & we'd agreed to meet him at a landmark tower. He had the map. How hard could it be? Aha! You're anticipating an adventure, but we didn't "misplace" him. He returned a bit breathless from his uphill jaunt.

We ducked into St. Julian's Church at the end of our stay. Built in 1076, it was dedicated to San Giuliani in thanks for protecting Erice against a Muslim siege. The interior was bathed in soft white light from the whitewashed stone walls & white stucco figures. A parade of statues known as the Easter Statutory Groups lined the walls. They depict in larger than life figures, muted colors, & gruesome detail the last hours of Jesus. A collection of small wax figures under domes of glass showing gentler religious themes incorporating floral & lace designs were on display in another room. The oratory exhibited items labeled, "preziose stoffe per l'eucarsitia." I translated it as "precious stuff for the eucharist" (ornately decorated cloth). David thought it should be called "matzo covers."

Lunch was at a simple hole in the wall with no English spoken. We'd seen people eating fried round balls the size of billiard balls & wondered what they were. They were prominently displayed in the case along with some kind of pork pizza & ham & cheese subs. We knew that "riso" was rice & most were spinach, eggplant, & pistachio, but what kind of "carne" was in the other one. The lady behind the counter answered our carne question by saying, "moo." I responded with "sensa oink?" & she said, "Si." We were in business. The four varieties were tasty & just the right amount for us to share. They're called arancini.

Our time was up in Erice. We reluctantly descended to modern, overbuilt Trapani in search of their famous saltpans. Signage to "saline" was clear & it wasn't long before we found a World Wildlife preserve complete with salt lake, piles of salt drying, & a windmill. The latter was to grind the coarse sea salt. Phoenicians & Arabs were among the first to establish this industry here & brought red Nubian garlic, which is still cultivated in the rich clay soil.

We took a walk on the wild side before dinner. We followed the path David had taken through the vineyard looking for goats. We heard them but didn't find them.

Dinner was at a Sicilian style pizzeria, Fratelli Pappalardi. There was a large window looking into the oven area. The two men who were pizza wrangling were happy to pose for a photo. Sicilian pizza dough is a bit thicker & what they call panini is a two crust pizza with a crust on top & one on the bottom. We started with a plate of cheeses, olives, caponata, & various ham & salami (the meats for Judi). We followed it with a veggie pizza & tuna & veggie panini. Sorry about the tuna :( I had a lovely red wine & we called it a day.

Back at the hotel we tasted some of the Marsala wine David had purchased in Erice. It was like port & none of us really loved it. Glad he bought a tiny bottle.

Tomorrow we go north towards Palermo with a stop at Monreale.

Toby

Sicily-Valley of the Temples & Marsala

Valley of the Temples

Pascal Lamb

March 30, 2014

A City Going Down Hill

We said good-bye to Giuliana after breakfast this morning. She's actually an attorney & prefers getting to know people from different places rather than practicing law.

Our guide for the morning, Marco, met us at the B&B. He graciously brought us a pastry Easter lamb like the ones we photographed yesterday saying, "I know you want to see Jewish sites, so I brought you this." Maybe he thought it was a Pascal lamb. We thanked him profusely & slaughtered it after dinner. It looked nicer than it tasted.

Marco is an archaeologist who moonlights teaching grades 1-6 & being a tour guide between digs. He must have been briefed that we wanted to see Jewish sites so took us up the steps outside our B&B. Right at the top was the defunct San Dominican convent built at the edge of the Jewish quarter during the Inquisition. It served as a barrier & guardian supervising Jewish lives & assuring the "conversos" would be faithful. There are no markings or artifacts proving the area was indeed Jewish, but the assumption is drawn from the fact that it contains the oldest houses in Agrigento.

On the contemporary side, there are no Jews in town anymore. Marco proudly mentioned that Italians never let Nazis build concentration camps in Italy. Now, there is an influx of North Africans who, so far, are finding work in agriculture. This is a depressed area. The sulfur industry was lost to other countries & mines closed. Property values in the old city have plummeted. Marco bought a house for $E17,000, but it will take $E100,000 to fix it up. There are abandoned buildings everywhere & not even a whisper of the bustling metropolis it used to be.

He attributed a lot of the strife to "the Godfather." He only used the word "mafia" once. The Godfather & politicians are hand in glove. It is the normal way of doing business here. Judges & politicians who have tried to fight them have been murdered. 

In The Valley

We squeezed into his Fiat & rode down past olive & almond groves to the Valley of the Temples. The site isn't in a valley, but on the crest of a long hill. The Temples, though, made a dramatic appearance as we rounded a bend. They are a grouping of some of the best-preserved Greek Temples we've seen. Greeks arrived here in 580 BC & were into showing off their architecture, They made sure this complex was visible from the sea as a reminder to possible intruders of their greatness & that they had "gods on their side." The general public wasn't permitted into the Temples since Temples doubled as banks where coins, weapons, & valuable gifts were stored. Not until the Byzantines did the inhabitants of the "valley" feel threatened. When Muslims showed interest, the town was moved up the hills to the high point & better defensive position where the old city rests today.

Recycling was big with our predecessors. It seemed a shame to let those huge abandoned stones go to waste when the next civilization could use them for their own buildings. Temples became churches, Greek pediments probably showed up as someone's fireplace mantle for all I know. Everything was fair game. It was their version of pre-fab. Why chisel new when you could grab an already quarried & cut wall of stone?

Marco hopped on & off the paths eager to show us the minutest details. He found part of an old bronze coin for us, & part of a tiny bronze cup for Judi. He eagerly pointed out the arched Roman Christian burial tombs & explained that the arch was symbolic of the rising & setting sun; the beginning & end of life. He marveled at how clever the ancients were in building a Temple to the god of healing, Asclepius, outside the walls to protect the citizens from exposure to disease. That Temple was used as a hospital & clearing house for those wanting to enter the walls of the city. It was a sort of Ellis Island. He gloried in the fact that the Allied invasion & bombs were from directions that kept the Temples safely off their trajectory.

The Depths

Marco was very solicitous & offered to lead us out of town & put us on the road to our next destination, Marsala. We drove through increasingly unattractive landscape, vacant & depressed industrial parks, all the time trying to put the address of our hotel into the Garmin. I got the feeling she didn't like being called Our Lady of the GPS, this being a Sunday, & she was balking. There was nothing we could do & no combination of wording for the name of the street we were searching for that would let her recognize it. We even had her search for a street from Google Maps where we had to turn near our hotel. She refused to co-operate.  She froze. She was on, she was taking no more prompts, & we couldn't turn her off. We unplugged her to no avail. 

We drove along on faith looking for a place to eat, then, more importantly, a toilet. It was Sunday & it was as if we were driving through ghost towns. We found Marsala, but still had not a clue where our hotel was. We called them & gave them the intersection of our location in town. What I understood clearly was that we were very far from where we should be. What I didn't understand were the detailed directions given by the woman at the hotel telling me what highways to use & what streets to look for. Then she told me to turn by Clinica Molana, wherever that was. Again, this being Italy, street by street maps are rare & street markings rarer. Highways may or may not display their assigned numbers.

We asked help from one man wandering by who turned out to be in a dimension other than ours. The other lone person was a woman who made some sense. She pointed to the ocean, said the name of a town & road number, & we headed that way. When we lost signs to that town, we stopped two women getting into a car in a residential neighborhood. One was old & one was elderly. I rolled down the car window & asked for the Clinic thinking it was a landmark. They did recognize the name but perked up when I mentioned Contrada Dara. Then began their debate on the best way to approach our situation. In rapid fire Italian, they gestured, disagreed, & looked to us for confirmation & understanding. At one point, one woman leaned into the car so that her head was in my face. This lasted well over five minutes.

Somewhere in the mix, I realized they'd indicated which was their car & mentioned something about eating. Were they going to take us home with them? If they did, would they let us use their toilet? Would they feed us? Would they adopt us? Would they ever stop arguing? I could feel mild vibrations from the back seat where I knew Judi was doing all in her power to keep from breaking into laughter. David & I couldn't look at each other for fear of exploding into guffaws ourselves. These women were trying to be helpful. They wanted the best for us.   But they wouldn't be quiet & let us go. At last, everyone thanked everyone else. They got into their little brown car, we pulled away, & we were instantly confused at the next intersection. But there they were. Their little brown car pulled around us, they beckoned, & we followed. They led us to where we should have a straight shot to our hotel & they were gone. But how far did we have to go? Were we looking for a large or small clinic? Why was our hotel, the Baglio Oneto Resort, keeping itself a secret? What the heck was a "baglio" anyway? Did we care?

We discussed how far to go before asking for directions again, but there was no one on the street. Had we passed it? NO!! There was a slim brown sign hidden in a forest of signs with Baglio Oneto printed on it. The arrow pointed ahead. How far? Who cared? Someone else knew about it. It wasn't a myth. And then, just as Shangri-La emerged from the mist, the Casa Cura de Molana sign peeked out from behind a tree. It was our landmark clinic.

We turned up a narrow road leading to a gated entrance to our resort. It's a lovely place surrounded by its own vineyard. There aren't many people here. Who could find it? The man at the desk tried putting the hotel address into the GPS but had to resort to entering only map coordinates. Maybe we'll find our way back if we ever leave the property.

We ate a bite for lunch then David took a walk in the vineyards & became surrounded by goats. The shepherd started a conversation & wanted to speak French. He pointed out a ruin but communication was limited. David then went on a foray to a discount store & scored cheap water & bananas. He loved their American style parking lot. He was also proud to find his way back.

We had an escort to dinner. Nothing was open in town so we had to eat at the hotel. The owner gave us a tour telling us that his wife's family name was Oneto. They were from Genoa & had come to Sicily 1,002 years ago. They settled in Palermo then moved to Marsala & started a vineyard. Some of the ornate tile floors we were walking on were from the 1700's or 17th century. I forget which.

The "resort" is trying hard to be elegant. Food is served under silver domes, but guests were wearing jeans & walking shoes. The food was excellent. Judi had veal Marsala (appropriate), David had steak, & I had pasta. The ambience & attempt at class ended when our server cleared our plates & scraped one onto the other at tableside. At least tonight's dinner menu didn't have "guts of lamb & stuffed grilled stomach parmesan" like the one yesterday.

Tomorrow we'll try to find Erice & Trapani, then return to this hotel. All will be well if Our Lady doesn't give us the deep freeze again.

Toby

Sicily-Agrigento

Judi on the Ferry

View from Hotel Antichi Catoi

Sitting Area of Our Rooms

March 29, 2014

Not Again!

We found the ferry! It only took us a half hour of creeping down virtually empty roads clinging to the shoreline. We arrived at 3:30AM for a 5 AM departure. But we celebrated too soon. When our documents were checked, my ticket was missing. Somehow, when we boarded, they omitted mine. Since everything is on computer & we had the reservation number, I wasn't worried. The ferry agent took my passport, confirmed my legitimacy, & brought me a replacement ticket. It wasn't until we were on board that David noticed they'd listed my country of origin as Great Britain, the time I arrived in Malta as different from David's & Judi's, & my sex as male. That was a far easier sex change than my son-in-law's.

We were among the first to board & the crowd wasn't as big as I expected. Judi settled in with her blow up neck & back pillows & eyeshades. David plugged into his MP3 player, & I slept in spite of the announcements & the kid behind us playing audio enhanced video games.

Our instructions were to call the B&B in Agrigento when we exited the ferry to give the owner an idea of when we'd arrive. Judi called the number on our itinerary & left a message with our names & the name of the B&B & our contact there. We got an immediate text back in Italian. We didn't understand it so I called back thinking I'd get a person. A woman answered, said "pronto," I began to speak, & she hung up. It was only 7 AM & a Saturday. Poor woman. What to do? Judi checked the phone number on our voucher & it was different. I called that number &, sure enough, Giuliana answered. Her English was rough but she knew who we were & would be there to greet us.

We tooled along keeping the sea on our left with Our Lady of the GPS chattering away & encouraging us to stay on her highlighted route. It was comforting to have her guidance once more. That is, until she died. We pulled over & checked the adaptor, plugged & unplugged her, turned the car off & on, tried her on battery only, then prepared to say "Kaddish," a prayer for mourners.

We were now on our own. It was as if we were transported back in time to when we traveled by our wit & cartographical skills. Signage wasn't too bad towards bigger towns. We started looking for a place to stop for breakfast & found a roadside B&B. The cafeteria side (counter service) was open & several locals were lined up for their morning espresso. When it was our turn it was clear the owner knew no English. There were only sweet rolls on display, so I asked for bread in French. He understood, went to the back, & brought out rolls. Perfect. Next, we pointed to the formaggio & even knew that word. He understood what to do, made us cheese sandwiches, warmed them, took our cafe orders, & ushered us outside to the patio. He wiped off tables & chairs, brought us gratis hard candy, & left us to savor our meal. Such a nice man.

We decided not to be upset about Our Lady & continued from town to town passing old war bunkers (a defense against us, the Brits, & their ominous enemy, Malta), greenhouses galore, & industrial zones. Not the most scenic route we've been on.

Re-Birth

We made it all the way to a piazza on a hillside in Agrigento. We did have city maps in our guidebooks where I could see the streets leading to our B&B. The problem was that none of the streets had easily read signs. Judi saw an information office, we pulled to the side of the road, & she disappeared into the rather large building. She was gone a very long time & we worried she'd exited by another door & was lost. We had to stay with the car. We wrung our hands & David glanced longingly at the GPS. It was on! We re-entered the B&B information, but it was unable to locate the satellite. In fact, it showed that we were not getting a signal at all. Since we were parked next to a tall building under a tree, I suggested that David get out of the car & walk to a clearing. Success! He got back into the car with Our Lady awakened from her siesta & raring to go. Judi came back laden with maps & information, none of it correct. The lady at the information center had never heard of the B&B or the street.

We put our faith in the GPS & followed her around some twists & turns right into the arms of waiting carabiniere. They are the armed police. There was what looked like a SWAT team wearing flak jackets, a paddy wagon, & many, many unhappy cops. We showed our voucher & with grand gestures & much Italian they explained, & we understood, that no cars were allowed on the street where the B&B was located. We had to turn around & park in a public garage. Piece of cake. David was getting really good at doing u-turns. We later learned there was a government minister coming & the police were his security.

Judi & I got out as David waited at the entrance to the garage. We went on foot to find the B&B. The street we wanted was about a block away & the "street" where the B&B  "lived" was up a hill of stairs. We confirmed with Giuliana that we'd arrived & she was charming. She told us she pays for parking & not to worry. That was easy for her to say, but Judi hadn't packed to shlep her luggage up a hill of steps. Fortunately, we were OK for the night with just our carry-ons.

Judi repacked street side, David parked, & we rolled our bags to the base of the steps. Giuliana appeared, helped us, & showed us to our rooms. She is the niece of the new owner, an architect, who bought the place in September. It is a 1060 year old building (Antichi Catoi). Our rooms were up exterior steps & through thick, ornate doors. Floors are terra cotta, the bathrooms are modern, we have kitchenettes, & our room has a sitting room. Absolutely charming. Worth the climb & logistics now that we're here.

This was to be our first attempt to do laundry & Giuliana was eager to help. She offered to take our clothes to a place that did laundry by the kilo & pick it up when it was done. She called first to see if it was open. It's Saturday. It closed at 1PM & would be closed Sunday. Rats! We'll try again in Marsala, our next town.

We walked up the main street of this old, old hilltop city enjoying the views of the seas around every bend. Most places were closed until 4PM; many were vacant. Hardly anyone was on the streets. We did find a counter service place that specialized in rotisserie chicken & ate there. Yum! David had chicken with roasted potatoes that was to die for. We shared a spinach fritatta, omelet, caponata, zucchini, & eggplant. The cost, E$15 including water.

We moved along slowly & came to rest at a cafe to enjoy cappuccino & a latte. Further along we came to a bakery/gelateria displaying adorable lamb cakes for Easter. We went in to ask if we could take pictures & bought pistachio filled pastry & gelati.  On we went past a 17th century church on Piazza Purgatorio (this was a bad, bad, town) until we came to the information building. We'd come full circle.

We ate dinner at Expanificio, recommended by Giuliana. It's rated 4.5 stars on Trip Advisor & we had a lovely meal. David had cod (a bit salty for me) while Judi & I shared stuffed artichoke & ravioli filled with spinach & cheese. We all shared caponata & had vegetable soup.

Gee, this a long email about a day where we didn't do much. I've always said, "When there is nothing to say, say it in detail."

We meet a guide tomorrow at 9AM for a tour of the Valley of the Temples. It's the start of Daylight Savings Time here. I hope he remembers. After our tour we're off to Marsala, a two-hour drive.

Toby

Malta

Mdina

Grand Harbor

Marsaxlok

March 28, 2014

More Megala-Wonders

Sorry for the gibberish & misspellings in yesterday's email. The Pages app I use lost the ability to spell check, copy, & paste. After checking all sorts of settings, David resorted to the ultimate solution. He showed the iPad who's boss. He shut it off then turned it on. Magic! My hero!

We were fortunate to have known way in advance to buy timed tickets on line to the Hypogeum. Only ten people per hour are admitted to the site & tickets go quickly. We bought ours Feb. 13. Our guide, Martess met us bright & early & we wiggled our way through rush hour traffic. Our driver, George, made David look good. His shifting was jerky, he stalled twice during the day, but he did get through the congestion with nary a mishap. David only audibly gasped once. Since there is a racetrack on Malta, part of the traffic included sulkies with horses in training. Picturesque, but challenging.

The Hypogeum, a UNESCO site, was uncovered in the late 1800's when an attempt was made to sink a well. The excavation began in 1903, revealing an underground Temple for the dead, Built between 3500-2500 BC, using the same technique as the Ggigantia Temple we saw yesterday, it is a unique example of subterranean architecture. This wonder of the Megalithic Age was a testament to their understanding of physics, grasp of mathematics, & creativity. Seven thousand bodies (bones now removed) were found in the many halls & caverns carved into the rock using animal bone implements. When first unearthed, there were rumors of giants who must have lived here six thousand years ago. It was the only explanation the locals could grasp for moving & erecting the enormous carved stones.

Before descending, we had to divest ourselves of purses, backpacks, coats, & anything that might damage the site. Cameras (& cell phones) were forbidden, of course. We walked down metal steps made slippery from the humidity going ever deeper into the chambers. Individual audio guides explained what we were seeing as dim lights on timers illuminated the highlights. Our human escort was there to warn us of the number of steps we had to ascend or descend & to ride herd on our behavior. We were within touching distance of the precious carved surfaces. I wondered if someone touched them they'd be next thrown into a pit.

The last room we saw was the Holy of Holies. Its walls were sculpted to resemble the rest of the Temple structure with arches, columns, & faux multi-tiered roof. It reminded me of Petra but not colorful.

A most impressive thing about the site was the decoration of walls & ceilings. Using red ochre paint thousands of years ago & clearly visible today, spirals similar to those we'd seen at the Temple yesterday danced in the dim light. No soot marred any walls & scientists wondered what provided illumination besides a few narrow shafts leading to the surface. The burial site was abandoned thousands of years ago for no reason apparent to us.

Miracle?

Moving on in time, we drove to Mosta to see the Church of the Assumption built in the early 1800's. It holds eight thousand people, but on August 8,1942, there were only two hundred worshippers. A German bomb (remember, Malta was an Ally with a British air base) fell through the dome & into the sanctuary missing everyone & not exploding. Ironically, the bomb came from a formerly British munitions factory in Yugoslavia that the Germans had appropriated. The Feast of the Assumption was August 15. It was quite a celebration they had rejoicing at the miracle. The statue of the Virgin, still used today, was paraded through the streets with renewed gusto.

Modernity

Zigzagging through time brought us back to the Mdina (they pronounce it "em-deena"). Begun in 800 BC, it was added onto through the ages & is now an exquisite collection of just about everyone's architectural style. Families pass buildings down from generation to generation to maintain its authenticity. Martess pointed out the different styles & the custom of placing two clocks on church facades. One told the time of day & the other was a calendar clock indicating the day of the month. All were still operating.

When asked about the movie of the same name, she gave us the real meaning of the Maltese Falcon. When Charles V gave Malta to the Knights of St. John, he insisted they send him a live falcon annually. It is thought that was his way of showing he still was in control & had the power.

Uphill we drove to Valletta, the capital of Malta & high point on the island. Houses of the Knights encircled the area we walked with each order having its own "auberge." We strolled over to the city gardens & gazed down at the Grand Harbor. One prominent old fort below was where the film Gladiator was shot.  Looking down at the water it was easy to imagine the plight of the Maltese during WWII. They had blocked the entrance to this harbor as a protective measure, but soon realized they had besieged themselves.  They sought help from the Allied fleet near North Africa, but ships had to battle their way through Germans. The SS Ohio was the one that saved the day.

Lunch was in a fishing village, Marsaxlokk (mar-sash-lock). We walked along the jetty enjoying the Maltese fishing boats painted in primary colors with eyes on their prows to ward off evil. Ron, the owner of a restaurant by the same name, stopped to chat & proclaim the quality of his food, especially fish. He's Maltese married to a woman from a Maltese family living in Detroit. It was old home week. We took him up on his recommendation & feasted al fresco on three kinds of grilled fish (bream, snapper, & sea bass) along with salad, chips, & delicious Maltese bread. Fully satisfied, we wandered to our van thinking we'd be heading right back to the hotel.

Martess, not wanting to miss a corner of the island, continued on to show us a desalinization plant, a monument marking the place where Bush, Sr. & Gorbachev signed a pact to end the Cold War in 1989, & the Blue Grotto, a cave entrance rimmed by the azure water typical of this sea. Not to be missed, as we skirted the harbor, we passed shipping containers from the Maersk Line made famous in the movie Captain Phillips, which, as I mentioned yesterday, was filmed here.

Martess was obsessed with giving us directions to the ferry tomorrow. She showed us how to go as we were driving around today. She showed us alternate routes on the map. It was obvious she was concerned about us getting lost as we head for our 5AM ferry departure. We plan to leave the hotel at 3AM. It's a thirty-minute trip. We heard that the ferry is full. We have our tickets. The huge crowd is traveling to Taormina for a concert of someone we've never heard of. I bet the concert will be in the Greek Amphitheater. Should be spectacular.

We walked to a nearby restaurant, Bianco's, for dinner. What a find! We had pureed parsnip soup, David had Cajun chicken pasta while Judi & I had warm salad. Hers had chicken; mine had duck marinated in honey & sesame. Best meal here yet.

Tomorrow will be the half way mark of our time in Sicily & Malta. We head for Agrigento after landing in Pozzallo early, early in the morning.

Toby

Malta-Gozo

Gigantica Temples

Azure Window

Roman Laundry

Citadel

March 27, 2014

Guiding Light

Today was wonderful! What a difference from yesterday. The sun was shining & despite the high wind which blows two hundred ninety days a year, it was glorious.  Our phone welcomed us to Malta & notified us of roaming fees, but our warmest welcome was from our guide, Martess. She's a native Maltese & we liked her so well we hired her for tomorrow. Our travel agent was right. We aren't here that long, there's a lot to see, & we didn't want to waste time being lost.

Today was all about Gozo, an independent island republic off the coast of Malta. Martess gave us a running commentary as we drove to the port for our twenty minute ferry crossing. Malta & Gozo are clean & bright. Views of the navy blue & azure sea are around every turn. The landscape is rugged, but roads are wider than Sicily, & the hairpin curves less intimidating. Geraniums  & other colorful plantings lined the roads adding to the feeling of seasonal renewal & our rejuvenation after last night.

The Knights of St. John, aka Knights of Malta, came here around 1530, after being expelled from Rhodes & from the Ottoman Empire. Their past taught them that massive defenses were mandatory. These citadels & defensive towers still stand. I guess they were effective, because the Knights were here for two hundred sixty eight years.

We continued past ancient Roman salt beds & modern aquaculture. St. Paul was said to be shipwrecked on this coast & didn't waste any time before converting the Roman governor.

Martess gave us a picture of modern life. Most people are Catholic. There is one synagogue, one mosque, one Greek Orthodox church, & a few Protestant churches. She explained how to identify a bascilica, (sorry, my spell check died)  cathedral & church. Basillicas celebrate a miracle that happened there; they have a cross on top with three crossbars. Cathedrals have two crossbars, & churches have the one standard bar like the cross of the crucifixion.

Immigrant (read African & Arabic) population is growing. There is an attempt of illegals to marry Maltese in order to stay. There is free public education up to age sixteen, then free university education with a stipend paid to the students. Maltese pay for mandatory national insurance covering health & education. Income tax is 5-35% with those earning minimum wage exempted. Families with children get subsidies.

The ferry crossing was very choppy but the boat was comfortable & we fared well. It was fun staggering around the deck. When I was trying to make my way to the sink in the ladies room to wash my hands, I lurched towards the door. Judi held her arm out, caught me, & redirected my momentum. It made sense that movies like Captain Phillips were filmed here what with the scenery & high seas. Martess rattled off several more well known pix most of which I've forgotten save Robin Williams' Popeye.

Everyone who was anyone has occupied Malta & Gozo. The thirty thousand Gozans speak a dialect of Maltese. Phoenicians were here as well as a people who pre-dated the pyramids by one thousand years. These megalithic builders erected the massive temples we visited.

Most Ancient

The aptly named Gigantic Temples (Ta'Hagrat) are six thousand years old & are a UNESCO site. Uncovered in 1820, it is said to be a fertility temple. Statues of goddesses were found with multiple detachable heads. It was imagined that heads were changed depending on the season or the goddess du jour. A foot bath was found at the entrance & areas for animal sacrifice as well. Spiral designs carved into stone hinted at a concept of afterlife or the "circle of life" to quote Elton John. We spotted archaeologists at work, one sporting a sweatshirt that said, "Archaeology,a career in ruins."

Our next stop was the Calypso Cave where the goddess, Calypso, kept Hercules a prisoner for seven years. I assure you he had a magnificent view. The fungus rocks were down the way, but, alas, the fungus is gone. It was used up for medicinal purposes by the ancient elite. However, the Azure Window remains. It's a natural stone arch reaching into the sea through which waves crash & tides rip making tourists gawk, take photos, & get oh so close to the precipitous drop-off. We gamboled over the rocks making our way to the perfect spot for the perfect shot, & didn't even get our feet wet.

Ta'Pinu (Pinu is Phillip in Maltese) Church, built in 1920, was down the way. Even Churches have Arabic sounding names here. Its claim to fame is a sixteenth century chapel & halls of testimonials. The latter are photos & artifacts attesting to prayers being answered. Cases display items such as baby pictures & clothing (fertility granted) & improved health (eg. crutches, braces, & casts).

Lunch was at Seashell, a place that specialized in expediting the tourist trade. The food was surprisingly good & we indulged in a bottle of local wine. After all, we weren't driving. We had a white fish loaded with garlic. It was a good thing we all ate it since we were packed tightly in the car.

On our way to Victoria (formerly Rabat), the capital of Gozo, we stopped at a Roman laundry where water still flows & the stone block basins could function today.  Not far was the Citadel that once provided safety for the islanders. Each night they'd gather inside its protective walls certain of their security...until the Ottomans came & enslaved all six thousand of them. We walked the ramparts & fought the wind to see the 360 degree view of the island.

About our hotel: last night we didn't notice the sign in RED above the sink that told us the water is not drinkable. This morning Martess assured us it was only because of water desalinization that the hotel thought tourists wouldn't like the taste. We won't get sick. Another issue was that we've been having trouble with our electronic room key. I ran down & up twice this morning (we're up two flights) trying to get it programed correctly. This afternoon it failed to work again. David made the trip to the desk & they sent maintenance. He did some hocus-pocus with a device & that didn't work. He finally blew into the key card slot. Voila! High tech.

Dinner was down the street at a place called Cuba because it imports its coffee from there. The meal was adequate but we'll search further tomorrow.

We'll stay on Malta touring all day tomorrow, pack, sleep quickly, & get ready for a very early ferry on Sat.

Toby

Sicily-Noto, Ragusa, Modica

March 26, 2014

Off the Grid

I thought the relentless clicking of the thermostat above our bed would keep us awake. It didn't, but I know how Captain Hook felt when he heard the clock ticking inside that croc.

It was not an auspicious day. When we went to plug in the Gypsy (Our Lady of the GPS) we found the cord had separated from the plug to the device. We were slow to panic & came up with several solutions. First, we'd check at the store on the Autostrada to see if they sold chargers. They had a large array but nothing that fit Our Lady. The next step was to go to Noto on the Gypsy's battery power, enter a search for electronics, & hope. No dice. Our third choice was to find a tourist info office & buy detailed street maps. But in our experience, such offices have either relocated or been closed. Our fourth idea was to pretend we were in the Amazing Race (a TV show we watch). Judi approached two men standing on a street corner. She looked pathetic as she held out the frayed cord & Garmin. They took her into a nearby store where there was a man who knew exactly where to go. A la the Race, we asked if he would ride with us to the store. He climbed into the car &, chatting in Italian all the way, directed us to a Vodaphone store. The woman there had the goods. I did a happy dance & we drove the man back to his store via some of the narrowest streets yet. At one point, Judi & I were in the back seat trying to contain our anxiety about how close our car was to others. The only thing we could do was cover our mouths with our hands & snort. For $E9 & a $US6 tip (he wanted only "dollares") we were all happy & decided we'd had enough of a driving tour of Noto.

Modica was our next goal, & frustration mounted. Our Lady insisted we go down one-way streets the wrong way & turn where there were no streets. We can honestly say we've been to Modica three times by way of roundabouts & u-turns. We were in what looked like an historic district but it's hard to tell. Everything is old. We found street parking &, with direction from Judi & me, David slid that car right into our Euro-sized space. As we rejoiced at our good parking karma, David pressed our clicker to lock the car. It failed. Doing it the old fashioned way, we used the key & put off buying a battery until later. We made our way to food & a most important toilet stop. We weren't selective & had mediocre to poor calzone, but a decent toilet. It also gave the clicker time to resurrect itself.

Modica is one of the richest areas of Sicily. You can certainly tell by the newer housing. It's famous for cheese & chocolate, the latter having been introduced by Spanish conquistadores. Our travel agent had recommended a specific chocolatier &, amazingly enough, we found it. There were about a dozen small dishes of chocolate pieces of different flavors & intensities of cocoa. We tasted & bought. The chocolate was a bit granular for my taste, but I won't ever turn my nose up at chocolate.

We "schmied" around noting a few churches, a cloister with dead birds trapped in netting erected to keep them out of the courtyard, & a piazza. We then took off towards Ragusa. There's supposed to be an old abandoned Jewish quarter. We put the address into our GPS. Oy! Round & round we went; uphill & down we went; backing & forwarding we went. It took forever but we did "arrive at our destination." We were at a scenic overlook behind the dome of the duomo. The buildings were clearly old, but the one man in the sole store that was open had not a clue about Jews (Guidecca) or Hebraios, but thought we wanted masks of mythological Greek gods. 

The point of going to "charming" hillside towns is to wander the streets, mix with the people, see the markets, & "feel" the country. Parking is a huge issue, stores are mostly closed, & there's a sameness to the towns. They seem prettier from afar & the allure pales after awhile. We're not interested in seeing churches or cathedrals ad nauseam.   We gave up & decided to call an end to a most stressful day.

Jumping Ship

Our Lady didn't recognize the address for our ferry terminal, but when David searched under transportation in general, up it popped. Whew! We arrived two and a half hours early & had time to chill before boarding. We had some beer & pop at an inauspiciously named cafe near the port & on the Mediterranean, the Andreadoria.

The ferry, a catamaran, left a half hour late, but did have an adequate enough cafe to supply us with chicken wraps, our dinner for the night. The seats were airplane style recliners with pull down trays. Announcements were made in Maltese, English, & Italian. I've never heard Maltese before. Sounds a bit European & Arabic.

While waiting in line to board, we followed our travel agent's instructions to program in the address of our hotel in Malta. We found the prompt to change countries & found Macedonia, but not Malta. Too bad she didn't check it out herself. We bought a map onboard but it was useless in the dark with unmarked streets. People on the ferry assured us it would take twenty minutes to our hotel. We told them it would take an hour. We were right. Driving on the left was not a problem. Seeing & reacting to the signs in time was. We ultimately asked some kids outside a bar & a cab driver for directions (almost hired him to lead us). We went down a one-way street the wrong way & found the hotel by accident. So tired!

A guide is picking us up at our Hotel Cavalieri tomorrow & taking us to the island of Gozo. After that excursion we may get around using a hop on-hop off bus.

Toby

Sicily-Piazza Armerina

Villa del Cassale-Mosaic- Erotica

Villa del Cassale-Mosaic-Boar Hunt

Villa del Cassale-Mosaic-Soldier with Swastika

March 25, 2014

Preservation Treasure

We took off in our SUV (Italians say "soov") & hoped Our Lady of the GPS (Gypsy for short) would be our salvation. We didn't get far when we made our first petrol stop. Yikes! It cost $98 (US) to fill the tank. It gave us a chance to show Judi the spread of food they serve at Autostrada rest stops: made to order pasta station, grilled meats, veggies galore & gorgeous fresh fruit.

We were going to the interior of Sicily, Enna, the only landlocked province of the island. It's called the "bellybutton" & I can tell you there were enough sheep in this rural district to create lint to fill that navel. The scenery changed from coastal to rolling hills, verdant agricultural land, fruit trees sporting their spring finery of pink & white blossoms, & farm critters out for a romp after a long winter. Wildflowers were just sprouting & added their yellow, red, & purple palette to our journey.

Piazza Armerina is the town near which Villa del Casale (also known as Villa Romano) is situated. The scholarly guess is that it was built as a summer home in the third century for an imperial family, perhaps Maximillian's. It's 1,000 foot long expanse was likely used by Arabs after the Romans. The Normans & William the Bad (don't you love it) probably destroyed it, built over it & in so doing unwittingly saved the treasures within. A landslide in 1950, finished it off. Around 1959 restoration began & it was declared a World Heritage Site.

We arrived around lunchtime & battled crowds of teens & German tourists trying to be served. We found a steam table laden with what turned out to be a delectable array of meats, veggies, & pastas. We ate heartily, but needed fuel for the afternoon ahead. It had turned cold & damp & we had to steel ourselves to maneuver our group of three around those very same Germans & teens throughout the site.

We tried to hire a private guide but there were none available. We thought about renting an audio guide, but some Canadians with whom we shared a table at lunch said the signs were very descriptive & in English. We took their advice.

There were signs, indeed, but many were faded & most were poorly lighted. David had a tiny flashlight, which helped, & we took turns reading. It became a contest of vocalization between the German guide & us. David won, hands down. At times we wondered if the translation of the Italian we were reading was even English. We got silly & began reading with exaggerated expression & mocking tone.

BUT, the place is a wonder. There are at least 40 mosaics, almost intact, showing details of the life & times. Effort was made & gobs of money spent for artists & artisans to plan & execute the laying of teeny tiny multicolored tiles depicting the culture, pastimes, fashion, & lifestyle of the elite.

The variety ranged from mosaics showing "either men & women dancing" or "kidnapping & rape" (guess the scholars couldn't decide), to women in what appear to be bikinis, to a person with what appeared to be two penises. It took all our powers of deduction to decide that the figure in question was un-bearded & probably female. After much debate, we deferred to the expert in our midst, David. He declared the two "things" between her legs to be over-sized labia. What the...?

We finished our circuit of the villa after two hours. None to soon. We huddled over our cups of tea & contemplated our two-hour ride home. It was uneventful except for finding legal free parking near the hotel. We were brain dead so headed for the restaurant we went to last night. Again, a fantastic meal. I was curious about the origin of the lovely free-form dishes so turned one over hoping to find the artist's name. I was crushed to see "Made in China" stamped on the bottom. So much for my discerning taste.

As you can see, we didn't try to go to the mikveh today. We'd read about it, seen pictures on line, & had been to several others around the world. This one was special in that it is down fifty-six steps, has several pools, & still has fresh water flowing into it from the aquifer even after the Spanish buried it in garbage during the Inquisition. But we didn't want to take the time & chance it was closed anyway so took a pass. We're Bad.

Tomorrow we go to Noto, Ragusa, Modica, & the ferry to Malta. David asked if I knew what was there. I said, "Noto." Sorry for that.

Toby