Sicily 3: Good Friday Procession

Tags

amaro, Castiglione, Good Friday, Religious custom, Sicily, Venerdi Santo

Sicily 3: Good Friday Procession.  For 2500 years, Sicily has been a melting pot of Mediterranean and other cultures and conquerors, : Greek, Carthaginian, Roman, Byzantine, Arab, Norman, German, Spanish, French, before finally acceding to unity with the Italian mainland in the nineteenth century.  Olive has already commented (Sicily 1) how Good Friday processions in Spain are spooky.  I think therefore that the procession we saw on Venerdì Santo must date from the Spanish era.  We had been told that the processions – the make up of which varied greatly between towns, though all would include statues Christ and the Virgin Mary, and often guild banners – were essentially about the Sicilians’ relationship with death.  And, my, was this mournful.  Very long faces, no chatting, to begin with anyway, and the band playing very solemn music, including at one point Chopin’s Funeral March.

We were driven to Castiglione. After we had parked, I limped along with the others in search of the procession, and after a short while we saw it coming towards us.  We went up some steps, and I managed to get these pretty impressionist photos.

People in various uniforms, including clergy, a choir of female voices, the band and large numbers of the general population. “That’s it” said Francesca, as the last went by.  “But where is the statue of Christ carried by the four virgins?” I asked.   It had been there she replied.

We moved along by the side of and near to the front of the procession.  This time I saw the Christ figure.  It was much smaller and  less obvious than the Virgin Statue.  Very odd, I thought. (And I’m not sure how I managed to miss it first time anyhow.)

From time to time the priest intoned prayers, and processors sometimes joined in

Very young and very old were there…

… though this push chair is carrying a loudspeaker so that the priest may be heard.

 

This was the only person I saw looking from a balcony, though I reckon most of the town was taking part.

We continued, accompanying the procession.

And I stopped to record the band.

The procession ended up at the church.  I didn’t enter and the others just hovered at the door for a few minutes before we all went off to find refreshment.  I discovered amaro, the bitter but tasty drink.

Yes, that is a conspiratorial look from the proprietor as Francesca takes her drink

 

Saturday: Mount Etna

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge

Tags

Alcanatara, Alcantara Gorge, Alcantara River, Castiglione, colubro, Etna, Etna Discovery, Gole d'Alcantara, tadpole

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge. This morning, Friday 14th April, was billed as a nature trail, which I think gave some of us the idea that we were in for a gentle stroll.  We did not imagine that we would be climbing up and down a gorge!

Claudio, of Etna Discovery, was our guide along the three areas of the Alcantara (stress on the second syllable) Gorge. Very knowledgeable he was too, and his strong arms at tricky passages were also most welcome.  He took us first down a shady path to a viewpoint over a particularly narrow part of the gorge.

Showing the basalt columns through which the river has worn its way

 

Then back up and along a top path to a stretch which gave an impression of a wider part of the Alcantara river valley.

This and other frogs were in a puddle in the wide path.  Most however buried themselves in the fine mud at our approach

Return to the vehicle and then down to a spot where we were able to access the river floor.

 

A rapidly shrinking pool at the side of the gorge. These tadpoles would be doomed even without the fact that a young snake has discovered them

One gorged colubro snake (about 18 inches, 45 cm, long). Ibelieve that the English name is the smooth snake.

Geoff, Claudio, Emma, Alec, Isobel and Francesca, as we emerged once more at the top of the Gorge

 

Finally, after a debate as to how we might best use the rest of our time, Claudio drove us some way away to another spot, where a quite lengthy rising walk took us to further views of the river upstream – to find that others had got there before us.

 

Distant view, much zoomed, of Castiglione, where we were find ourselves that evening for the procession

 

Hints of Mount Etna, and its vapours, in the distance

Views upstream…

… and downstream, from a footbridge

A better view of Etna snatched on the drive back to the agriturismo (a farm used partly for tourism purposes)

 

Unfortunately on the way back down to the vehicle, I stumbled on a stone, and twisted my right ankle rather nastily.  This meant that for the rest of the holiday I was having to walk very gingerly, especially where the surface was not totally flat, and when turning corners, though this didn’t prevent me from joining in any of the activities. (Dancing was not on the menu.)