Sicily!
Everything went fine getting from my hotel to Victoria Station to Gatwick. Squalling kid next to me on the two hour flight. Striking blue-eyed older man, my driver, there to meet me with a sign. One hour drive from Catania: first through a terrain that looked much like Texas, and I got momentarily depressed. Looks a little like Mexico, but better kept. Love to see the ancient, deserted Italian farmhouses and I want to stop and explore them. Olive trees, orange trees, vineyards everywhere!
To hotel, a tiny cute one, and after some grappling with the tiny lift, to the desk where nice Frederick holds forth. Maybe a dozen rooms here at this small hotel on the marina?
Siracusa: definitely still Italy in its architecture, but maybe a bit more Spanish/Moorish. But the ocean is near and Siracusa sits on a natural harbor -- no beach -- marina with fishing boats and yachts. The waterfront seems to pander to families: rides for children, toys, balloons, ice cream for sale.
I was afraid to wander too far until I got my bearings, but made it to the Duomo where a wedding was ending. Grabbed a seat at the café across the way to watch. First impressions: bridal party gaudy, prom-like dresses with lots of sparkles, black, red. Again, rather like Mexico. Women are pretty stocky and short here -- nothing like the elegant Lombards of northern Italy. No one seems very dressed up -- the shopkeepers, at least. It feels very relaxed here, very Southern. Loads and loads of English and Germans "on holiday." Frederick indicates the ancient drama festival brings many people here this time of year. Tomorrow and the next day are Sicilian Independence holidays. Makes me think of The Leopard. Narrow, winding streets, blackened, blasted crumbling architecture -- very picturesque. And always, the ocean visible at the light end of the dark, winding streets. Many of the older women I saw at the wedding actually looked like drag queens doing Elizabeth Taylor. Lots of red and black dyed hair. A little too-protracted eye contact and cruising by some of the local men, but nothing like what I used to experience in Italy when I was younger.
So far, a huge price relief from London. E3 buys Campari and soda and a plate of cute finger sandwiches, olives and pistachios. Love that about Italy in the late afternoon.
Plan to crash soon and get up early. Wow! Sunday morning in Sicily! I'll go loiter outside the church and people watch. The tap water here is salty. I can't get soap to lather. Just went outside to rooftop terrace: everyone headed over the bridge into Ortigia on foot and motorcycles for Saturday night.
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I set the alarm and got up early. I was the first in the hotel for breakfast, served outside on the rooftop terrace by a dark guy with crazy bedhead, sleepy eyes, gold teeth and bracelet. Charming spread of local breads and pastries and fruit. But I swear it's nearly impossible to get sufficient quantities of the excellent coffee of Europe. One cup and you're cut off. They never offer a second. Then out for a long walk before anyone but ancient men and their little dogs were out. It starts off cool but shows signs of becoming a real scorcher later. Narrow streets, more like alleys, I look up to see incredible balconies full of cactus, bougainvillea, geraniums. I always love to see the ghostly, deserted apartments and flats in the midst of the occupied ones. You young men tearing down alleys on motorcycles without helmets pose a threat to life! Had a second cup of coffee across from the Duomo after a couple of hours, assuming I'd get to see families going in. No: just a few old ladies inside. Relic of someone in a side chapel. Lovely, cool and quiet church. Took an alley into a nearby courtyard, discovered a glass case containing a Cinderella coach, just like in Renoir's film The Golden Coach. Strolled the labyrinth that is Ortigia window-gazing: lots of coral jewelry, some of it really lovely and expensive. I wish I could buy an Italian fan; saw some pretty ones in a perfumer's window. Colorful ceramics here in Sicily, like Talavera. Seems to be a local folk craft. And Sicilian horse cart miniatures with pom-pom decorations. Walked all the way to what I was told was the local swimming spot, but too many loud young men there for me. Passed a lively fish market.
Oh! There was a Sicilian puppet museum I toured. Cool papier maché marionettes about a yard tall, some with glass doll eyes. Not slick craftsmanship, very powerful. From what I could tell, this marionette theatre was the project of two guys starting about 1950. Followed signs to workshop, closed on Sunday. Cool painted canvas backdrops for the puppet plays: lots of knights, princesses, Turks or Ottomans, dragons. A high point.
Kept walking for three more hours. Saw a real-life Sicilian horse cart hired by a family for a tour. Poor horse. Hard to tell if it cares or not, pulling the cart over the cobblestones. Took off away from the Duomo, browsing the side street shop windows. Sunday lunch time: dishes clanking, voices alternately singing or arguing, tiny old ladies all in black standing in their doorways, shrines high up in the walls, laundry hanging off balconies and across streets, delicious cooking smells. I must admit these Sicilians don't look much different from Romans. There's certainly not the emphasis on bella figura here as elsewhere in Italy, though. People are dressed very casually, and men who are not tourists actually wear shorts here, and espadrilles or driving shoes. I saw several gekkos sunning themselves today, and some truly trampy looking women, too. I hope U.S. television isn't responsible. Went back to the Duomo about 1:00 p.m., passed well-dressed families in cafes by that time. By late afternoon, went back to hotel to take a cool shower and enjoyed a documentary on Marcello Mastroianni on television. Waiting now for my host to come pick me up for dinner.
The only things I've coveted but won't spend my costly Euros on is branch coral jewelry with silver settings. My hotel has branch coral painted around the room numbers -- charming.
Today was my host's son's first Communion. Saw little girls today in elaborate white dresses -- must have been the day for it. Thought for a moment a boy was hauling a huge religious icon on his back, but it turned out only to be a folding table.
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The skylight over my bed shows me a gray sky...it looks threateningly like rain today in sunny Sicily.
A nice dinner last night of fresh tuna and a ricotta/pistachio dessert at a bistro owned by one of my host's foodie friends -- which coincidentally I had noticed when I passed it earlier in the day.
Horrible, loud, crass group of American librarians are on the terrace for breakfast this morning. As always, I hate to be shaken out of my Dream Europe by the sounds of harsh American English. Siracusa really has its share of tourists -- a place like Santa Fe, I fear, with an economy dependent on tourism. William indicates there are few prospects for the youth of this sweet place, so they move away to the mainland after university.
If it rains I don't know what I will do today. Since it's a festa, the school decided to close and so I am on my own again until someone comes to fetch me for the Greek theatre this evening. I find I naturally walk away from the harbor here. The water and boats have limited appeal for me and no one is fishing, swimming or doing anything interesting in the marina. William indicates there are nearby beaches and fishing villages, but not here.
It really is dark and threatening. I guess I can always duck in one of the many churches and do some drawing today.
11:00 p.m.
I'm really tired, so this will be short. Another day of strolling around through a kind of dicey area where I saw a fully naked, fully grown man hammering away at something on his balcony. Nice salad at lunch facing the marina. Picked up to go to ancient Greek theatre. Incredible. Orestes/Agamemnon cycle. Fabulous staging, incredible harpies! Delivered back to hotel starving at 10 p.m. (no dinner) and went back out in search of a gellato. The locals here don't really come out until about this time, anyway. Stumbled on an incredible orchestra concert taking place on the steps of the Duomo to celebrate Italian Independence Day. Sat in cafe opposite, not believing my good fortune to be there that night. They played, and I am not kidding, along with selections from Cavalleria Rusticana and Carmen, a Moriccone medley. And, yes: they really did end with the theme from The Godfather!
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My last day in Siracusa was a very long, wonderful one. Spent the day at the study center, saw the catacombs, student apartments, met all the faculty and staff, strolled a little more, had several coffees, returned to hotel exhausted to take a quick shower and nap while waiting for the late dinner Lucia and William arranged in my honor. Great dinner at nouvelle cuisine place, prosecco, great food, great conversation about Italian Neorealism cinema, cultural differences, Italian history, child-rearing, universities, Garibaldi and D’Annunzio.
Walked back one last time past the harbor, yacht lights twinkling in the distance. I should have drawn the moored boats, I guess, from the view from the hotel terrace. Saw a guy come off a boat -- I suppose he lives on it -- and saw his dog whine and yelp as his master walked away down the pier with his backpack. Lots of dogs on boats. Lots of cats hiding in the shade and eating the pasta people leave out for them.
Yesterday during a coffee at the Duomo, saw another wedding. The couple were both in their late fifties and it was certainly neither's first trip to the altar. Surprisingly, no children or grandchildren were there as witnesses. The bride's bouquet was artificial.
I really loved Siracusa, or more specifically, Ortigia. On the way to the Catania airport I saw from the car window wonderful beaches and seaside hotels and villas -- about half an hour's drive from Siracusa.
