Sicily and its sweet center.

We are at our nearly last place of accommodation. Sicily. We took a spectacular ferry and drive. The island of Sicily is quite beautiful, as we were told. But, since we are doing some comparisons here – this place, this B&B is unlike anyplace we have stayed before. Acireale, near Catania, feels much like a movie set, with dramatic baroque designs, and a sense of Havana about it – old, somewhat run down, although people are dressed well. It is as though there is a sigh someplace I can hear, a longing for some other days of glory, without the ability to rise up, to energize enough to make a difference.

I’m not sure why I think this is so, but faded fussiness and dramatic architecture combine here to create impotence among the palm trees.

We are staying in a 1700’s villa, on the top couple of floors, with a red, terracotta roof, ceramic tiled floors, marble stairs and ten foot doors.The owner is an older history professor, and her partner is an architect. They have made a garden, with turtles, on one of the floors, and have an entrance flush onto the street for a front door. It takes three turns around side-streets to come up to the rear, where a gate can be opened to allow us to enter on another, higher level. Carmela has an artistic home, a wall-hung Picasso, among other paintings, some sculpture, and extraordinary chandeliers, several palace-type ceilings that are so spectacular and which could never be duplicated in our times. I think we are at a museum in its infancy stage, with objects on lighted shelves, and curated beautiful things everywhere on display.

Since she heard that I have a little stairway walking difficulty, she put a bed for me into her office. I am in there now, surrounded by books, and family portraits, with a door that goes out to the turtle garden. John, Elaine, and Lew are on another floor, with plenty of room, accessible by means of the smallest, tightest circular stairway I’ve ever seen. The guys had to carry up suitcases in a circle about 14 inches wide, and narrowing into three inches on the inner, pole-side. I’ll probably stay in the office.

Carmen is playing in the next room. Yikes – that is a lot of soprano! I normally love opera, but I think the owner has some hearing disability.

They worked hard to create this space 40 years ago and everything looks lovely once you are up those stairs, and it’s not often that one sees the inside of a historic palace. We’re in it for the adventure.

And the kitchen is in one of the gardens outside, along with a refrigerator. So as not to heat up the house? To not remodel? It’s not bad – but unusual, and charming as idiosyncratic. We’ll grill outside maybe tomorrow, if we can go to the outdoor fresh fish market in the morning.

Walking through the streets is a reminder of past glory as well, giving me pause to wonder if those Bourbons who conquered Sicily were a representative high point for the island. Very Baroque.

There seems to be, in this town, at least, a lack of concern about picking up one’s dog poop, or flying trash. But, it’s Sunday, so maybe there is some squad that works on the weekdays. We’ll see.

We did take a walk around, and found our Gelato place. Or one of them. We had three cappuccini, one cafe ‘normale’, three almond granite – a local specialty, some sort of pistachio bomb, one chocolate cannoli, two gelati, and our bill came to €14. We may have to go back tomorrow. I’ve never seen such enthusiasm for sweets as here. The windows are full of creative, colorfully made cookies, bombs of all sorts with sweet centers, cakes, pastries. A warm brioche is usually had with breakfast and a granite (Gran-i-Tay). And everywhere people are enjoying pastries.None of that Keto here!

We found our way to one of the many nearby churches, that seem spaced about 15 feet apart, and lit a candle for a friend. Admiring the aged buildings is easy to do, but I wanted to offer them a power – washer service. I guess if I was 400 years old I might also have a layer of smut, so who am I to judge? Everything gets old, eventually.

We’re headed out to dinner soon, nearby. Actually, a few doors over on the street side. We got a recommendation to ‘Antonio’ for tonight’s meal. Our host said it’s good food, and a great price. We’re IN! We’re also here for a bit, so we will see what Sicily has on offer around the island. Imagine – it’s a little over twice the size of the Big Island of Hawaii, and 50 times the population. Hmmm That’s with an active volcano, too.

Postnote: Dinner was across the street – recommendation of our host and a reservation (prenotazione) to ‘Antonio.’ As usual, when they opened at 8:00pm, we were the first ones there. Eating at the very early hour of 8:00 is extraordinarily early. There was a well-dressed party forming up, so we immediately felt undressed. At first, we couldn’t find the entrance. The street side had no door, the sign was tiny, and there were few lights anywhere, in our defense. Walking down the side-street we found a locked gate, behind which might be our restaurant. When they opened it up to (after we rang a bell and the knocking of the well-dressed folks), we shrunk back, feeling like peasants out of place.

Walking through, the place was enormous, and set up for perhaps a marriage feast. We walked beyond that, through another ordinary large room, and chose the outdoor garden for our site, and sat down. The service was great, and when the rain began, the owner moved up our large umbrella to cover us, as we wanted to stay in the middle of the garden.

We got our firsts before the rain really began, with staff running out every time that it lessened. The unfortunate party had set up in one side of the garden, with giant cake in deep aqua blue, and bonbons in the same, as well as lolly-pops, or cake-pops, cupcakes, small treats, vases full of blue sweet treats, and blue iced donuts. The guest list and the staff carried out to in, while we watched the photographers flash and run. It was a baptism! The baby boy with a full head of black hair was the star of the show, before they hurriedly took him inside. Good boy – no wailing at all.

Then the rain really hit, and the ground got a couple of inches deep – too shallow for a gondola, but impressive. Now we couldn’t leave, it was raining too hard. We sat, and talked, and laughed and finally the rain stopped after a couple of times of indecision. We finished our dinners, and to the amazement of a shocked waitress, chose no deserts.

We’ll go back, it was good.