Sicily 8: Catania

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Bellini, Catania, Etna, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, lava tube, Monteverdi, Nievski, Sicily, Siculorum gymnasium, Trattoria de Fiore

Sicily 8: Catania. Suitcases packed, accounts settled, we were off to spend the day in Catania before dispersing.  A last sighting of Etna as we went south.

Francesca had arranged for us to leave our luggage in Catania at a small B and B, The Globetrootter, owned by a friend, for the day, and we set off.

I was thrilled serendipitously at the first place we stopped, a castle built by one of my favourite characters in history, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, 1194-1250, a fascinating, if far from likeable, man.  I had studied him for my ‘A’ levels and he had intrigued me then.  (If you click on the link, skip the history, and go to ‘Personality’, and ‘Literature and Science’.) On my trip to Sicily in 1975 I had paid homage at his tomb in Palermo Cathedral.  This castle was a real bonus for me.

Although we went in, it was just to say hello to the woman running the bookshop, another friend of Francesca.  (We came across many more of them during the day – this was her home city after all, and she was well-known as a television journalist on the island.)

We then went on to the fishmarket, which turned out to be so much more.

Smoking artichokes!

Francesca and a scampo

We had been told about long courgettes!

 

The next two photos will be of interest only to geology enthusiasts, especially since one is not at all clear.  We went through a bar to see a lava tube, a tunnel made by flowing lava as it solidifies on the outside.  As the sign indicates, it formed during the eruption of Etna in 1669.  It’s of particular interest because it now has a stream flowing though it – in the other direction from that of the original lava flow.On to Catania’s cathedral.  I was pleased to see the tomb of Sicily’s famous composer, Bellini, but not nearly as much as I had been to come across that of Monteverdi in Venice some years back.After a stop for refreshments in the cathedral square, we walked on, and passed this.It was communist headquarters, now a popular pub

 

Not a the modern meaning of a gymnasium, but a place of learning. ‘Siculorum’ means ‘of [the] Sicilians’

Lunchtime.  At the Trattoria de Fiore, run (that does not adequately describe the force that she is) for the last 40 plus years by Rosanna, who makes wonderful pasta among other things.  Ordering our meal was an event in itself, especially since Rosanna just loves talking – and she wasn’t the only Sicilian present who has the same predilection…The others all ordered pasta , but I just didn’t feel hungry enough so I ordered antipasti and a light fish dish…

My antipasti!

 

But I should have known that antipasti would be more than sufficient. The sardines to follow were delicious, but I could only manage two of the seven, even though they were small as fresh sardines go.  I managed to persuade others to eat three of those left over, and made copious apologies to Rosanna for not finishing the entire dish.

Here is a blurry picture of someone’s ‘pasta alla norma’, resembling a volcano.We got up from table well after 4 pm!  It was nearly time to get back to the B and B place to pick up our luggage and say goodbye.  But we just had one more visit to make – to what had once been a monastery and was now a university – where Francesca had done her studies.We were able to peek inside the large rooms where lecturers worked – the monks clearly didn’t stint themselves for space back in the days.

And so we said goodbye.  Geoff was off to Syracusa, Francesca, and Alec and Isobel were staying on in Catania for one extra night before returning to the UK the following day, so it was just Emma and I who took a 20-minute bus ride to the airport to await our plane, which would get us to Gatwick at midnight.

Despite my accidents and being off-colour, it had been a lovely week in good and friendly company, with a great variety of themes and activities.  Being a study tour had made it extra interesting.  If there is one which stands out as both unexpected and ultra enjoyable … it was Food!

I  think it is definitely a case of ‘Arrivederci Sicilia’.  I hope so anyway.

Sicily 7: Taormina

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amaro, D H Lawrence, Etna, Florence Trevelyan, Fontana Vecchia, Francesca Marchese, G7, Geoff Andrews, granita, Parco Duca di Cesaro, Sciascia, Sicily, Taormina, Verga

Sicily 7: Taormina.  I had slept terribly on Monday night, or rather I scarcely slept at all. My ankle was troubling me – discomfort is always worse at night – my cold was now full-blown, and I had a sore shoulder from my fall.  I therefore decided to cut the morning’s programme of discussion on Sicilian writers, notably Sciascia and Verga, (of whom I had  never heard) and to rejoin my companions at lunchtime.  I was greeted at 12.45, ‘Have you heard the news? [Wifi was patchy in the bedrooms.] There’s to be a general election on 8th June.’

Well, that determined conversation over our meal – fortunately and not surprisingly we were all committed Remainers, so there was no falling out.

The afternoon’s programme was a visit to the nearby large town of Taormina. On being dropped, we made out way to the Greek/Roman amphitheatre.  Taormina is to host the G7 for three days at the end of May, so it is being spruced up everywhere.  I counted four separate work sites in the amphitheatre, each of them seemingly driven by a very noisy generator.And sadly the iconic (sorry!) view towards Etna was restricted by clouds over the volcano.  Oh well, I had had a good view of it in 1975…The views north and south from the spot were wonderful. Francesca, testing out security, then marched the five of us into a very posh hotel nearby.She so much wanted us to see its gardens.Next it was the Parco Duca di Cesaro, created by the Englishwoman, Florence Trevelyan, two centuries ago. However, Britain, as it seemed to me, had been once of the few large powers before the nineteenth century never to have ruled Sicily.  Evidence of occupations of Sicily was to be seen everywhere.

Greek

Roman

French

And then it was time to visit the ‘best place in Taormina’ for granita.

Eating Granita is a serious business

All around the town we had seen wonderful paintings on external walls.  I regret not having taken more photos of them.  But  we stopped to have a particular look at these, which actually were not in the same style as the others.  Francesca called on the owner of the house they ornamented, whom she knew to be the author of all these paintings, and chatted to him for a while.There were not only paintings everywhere we went but wonderful balcony decorations.  Here is one near the painter’s house.But this had been my favourite, a feast for my eyes while my mouth was feasting on my granita.There was one more place to be visited.  Geoff was very keen that we should see Fontana Vecchia, the former house of D H Lawrence.  We had to tramp a bit for this, and we had some difficulty finding it. My ankle was troubling me and I was feeling very tired, so at one point I stopped, and sat on a low wall as the sun started going down, while the others continued searching. They were gone for what seemed to me a very long time.   But I was delighted on their coming to pick me up to learn that not only had they found the house, but they been invited in by the current owner.  One very happy group returned to Edoné – and I had managed to buy my amaro to take home.

 

Sicily 5: Wine-tasting and Wet

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Cavanera, cuddura ccu l'ova, DH Lawrence, di Lampedusa, Edoné, Etna, Etna Bianco, Etna Rosso, Favinia, Firriato, Francesca Marchese, Gaudensius, Geoff Andrews, Salvatore Romano, Sicily, The Leopard

Sicily 5: Wine-tasting and Wet. From Etna, we were taken not very far to the Firriato winery, where we met up once more with Salvatore Romano and his Swiss wife, Karin.  They had joined us for our very first evening meal at Edoné, and they will figure large in the next post.Here we had lunch. We started by just soaking bread in the most heavenly olive oil you can imagine, accompanied by a little salad, and the first of the wines.

Geoff, Natalie, Salvatore and Karin

Next came this assortment of cheeses and meats, accompanied by white, then red, versions of this wine.

I failed to get a photo of the sweet, but it was accompanied by a very nice sweet wine.We were shown around the winery, and given the opportunity to buy their products.  Reluctant to weigh my suitcase down too much, I didn’t purchase anything here, as I planned to buy some amaro before the stay was over.

On just a few more kilometres, and we made a short diversion to a Byzantine basilica, about which nothing appears to be known.

View from the basilica

The programme was light for the next day, Easter Sunday, just a morning discussion around D H Lawrence in Sicily and Di Lampedusa’s ‘The Leopard’ (which I had actually re-read before leaving home).

Isobel, Alec, Geoff, Emma and Francesca on the patio

Francesca at what I believe to be her favourite activity – taking pictures of people

Sunday lunch included these traditional Easter cakes or biscuits, cuddura ccu l’ova.  Those are indeed whole boiled eggs.

Nothing was programmed for the afternoon. Just as well, as there was a torrential thunderstorm, trapping Francesca’s parents, who had arrived in the early afternoon to take their daughter out for a couple of hours.   Living in London, Francesca had not seen them for a while, and was looking forward to catching up with them.

(Just as well for me as well. I was developing a sore throat.)

All three people eventually escaped and the day cleared up.

Tomorrow: Food – seen a lot already? You ain’t seen nuttin’ yet!

Sicily 4: Mount Etna

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Betula Aetnensis, Etna, Etna Birch, Mount Etna, Sicily, volcano

Sicily 4: Mount Etna.  When I had visited Sicily in 1975, for me the most exciting discovery, of all the amazing discoveries on the tour of the whole island, had been Mount Etna.  Our visit to it had taken place on a grey day, but that hadn’t mattered at all.  Up first in a jeep, then a funicular, and then a little way on foot to be almost within touching distance of a slow, glowing, tinkling, crinkly, lava flow, from which we could feel the warmth.  I recall that, in those days when you took just one photo of a given area and that was that, because of film and processing costs, I used a whole 36-image film just on that lava flow, so excited was I by it all.  And I came home and bought a book on how volcanoes work.  (Soon afterwards, that particular funicular was destroyed by a further eruption.) Since then I have done an Open University module on geology, a significant part of which was on volcanoes.  So my hopes this day were high.

Nathalie, presumably a self-employed guide, took us in her people carrier. Up and up and up we went,

and we stopped to look at a road which was distinctly no longer a Z-bend.

Then we moved on and up to about 2500 metres, to the north, less tourist-frequented side of the volcano.  Pictures of devastation and desolation.

The white gas is water vapour, the blue sulphur dioxide

Geoff surveys where a hotel used to be

This was the highest we got.  Apparently it is possible to go further up in a funicular, and then further on foot, to get much closer (but not too close!) to where the action is, but that had not been the intention for our particular group.  So I was a little sad.

Francesca looking on.

We moved round and a little lower down by car, and were introduced to Etna birch, Betula Aetnensis, found only on Etna, its peculiarity being that, unlike other birches, it has multiple trunks coming from the ground. (Virtually nothing on it is to be found via search engines on the internet.)  We started off on a walk towards a spectacular view.  Unfortunately my ankle did not at all enjoy the terrain – small broken up lava – on which we were walking, re-twisting itself frequently.  I found a nice Etna birch on which to perch, and Francesca kindly decided to stay with me, stating she had done Etna a thousand times.  I have to say it was really rather pleasant sitting there in the sun, though I didn’t fancy stretching out on the ground as Francesca did.  She insisted on taking a photo of me with Etna in the background,

then a close-up on the grounds that I had a ladybird in my hair

which I couldn’t see in the photo until I blew it up…

Finally we went on to a refuge/bar where we had a drink – of course – and watched some videos of Etna erupting, and looked at a map. 

I took a panorama from that spot.

Lunch, described in the next post, consisted of a wine tasting and antipasti a few kilometres away…

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge

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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.)