One main goal of being here was to more extensively visit Sicily, tasting it’s rich culture, enjoying its history and seeing its fabled beauty. Oh yes – the food too. We’ve done all four today.
If we work hard, we can get out of the house by 10:30, although that is not what we did. We drove South, to Syracuse (Siracusa) and to the tip of the island on the end of the island of Sicily, a place called Ortygia.
Syracuse is old enough that the Greeks were here before Archimedes knew how to talk math. The Greeks, and others were here 700 BC… That is pretty old, and the Romans hadn’t yet invented cement either. Both cultures got here though, and since Syracuse is on the seaside, the East side of Sicily, people stopped in to conquer, to rule, and to build. The climate is nice, if hot, and the land, being volcanic, grows everything with enthusiasm.
There are places here where the Greeks built a temple, and an amphitheater that seated nearly 7,000, and various groups held their religious rites. Talented artisans carved statues that stared out at the population around them, and learned to make jewelry, coins and everything else that would please the man in charge (…it was always a man, ahem…). People fought wars over this place, leaving some folks prisoners, and others dictators. (So nothing ever changes?) Over time, the games produced by the Romans were presented at the Roman Amphitheater, with tickets bought by those with money or prestige, and the citizens without funds were given tickets, and nosebleed seats – just like today. Community – building through show and entertainment. And we were there as witness of those guys lives today.
We also went to the park museum, which is still putting together the pieces of statues, urns, blocks, caskets, columns, and everything else an up to date temple might need. They have them all in the lower level, where we were free to wander around, touch, and admire, with our bare hands. No restrictions on touchy -feeler types, other than good sense.
Warning – do not try this at home with your kiddoes -museums are usually loath to allow touching our sweaty, grubby hands to terribly old things.We got to go to a numismatic “old coin” display, held in what seems to be an old vault. The dramatic entrance was probably a perfect touch – those things – all that gold – all that history – is worth a bundle, and is irreplaceable. The details of a coin 2,500 years old is unbelievable to me. How did those folks make such durable things, and we can’t even hold onto a floor for more than a few years?
There was even a kind of mass-produced terra-cotta face — you could tell she was lovely – like Botticelli ‘s model’s face, used over and over because the artist just really wanted to get closer to her. But, I digress- this model was out of its duplicator mold, and – the woman was throttling a stag. She wasn’t sitting home knitting a new toga, she was out holding off a beast. Good work, woman! The rest of the women, in those lovely flowing robes, simply held their hands to their bosoms, looking serene.
Another word about cars here; many vehicles sport scratches along the sides of their vehicles, front front bumper to rear, and now I understand better why it is hard to get insurance coverage for a car that is going to Sicily. The lights are screwy, there are no apparent rules, except that the loudest horn wins, and no space is too small to drive into, regardless of people, or other vehicles. Lew remains calm.
A word- people here eat horse meat. It is inconceivable to us, but it is on the menu, with butcher shops advertising their specialty. We happily eat our meats and cheeses, and very chewy, very tasty breads, in our little outdoor kitchen. I do want to tell you about our garden though, and the word fecund comes to mind, with the smells and emotions of all of those summer novels of my youth. Tomorrow. Domani.