I am referring to the scheme on offer here for you who want to have your own home away from the politics of America, or perhaps just want to dig into a home-renovation project. There is an article in Insider, by Tom Murray that speaks of the places here in Sicily, and the terms of purchase, with photographs.
I am not in the place in my life where I feel as though I can do that, but part of me is really tempted. I think that we could start a business, a small business perhaps, providing services of one kind or another. It would be fun. And, I could live here. Especially I could live here for 6 months at a time. I love this land. And, and… But no, we aren’t at the growing part of our lives, we are at another phase. I know this because my need for things beyond me, and my desire to achieve have changed. Both are no longer as passionately yearning as they were, a relief for sure.
Yesterday we did laundry, letting it dry in the sun. Later, we went into Catania for a little shopping. Vacation is often focused on observation of the little things, I am sure, so this is about a little day, a small day.
Catania is, as usual, a drivers nightmare, although Lew sees it as a challenge I think.We drove through the toll both in the wrong lane, and had to try to explain our error to the attendant, who accepted our .50 and waved us through. We blocked traffic parking, enraging a few other drivers who had their eye on the same place. Parking here rivals the olympics for its competitive nature.
We walked, through all the wrong neighborhoods, watching as the people and the stores got more and more grimy. That volcano coats light black soot over everything, day after day. I could feel it on my skin too, a delicate coating of small beads that needs to be washed off regularly. Imagine if I were a couple of hundred years old!
When we changed our direction, we walked through the market we’d been told about a few days before. We were at the end of the day, and although I’m not posting pictures, we followed in the wake of trash in piles, garbage everywhere, flying papers, boxes, smashed old veggies. A stall said it sold all kinds of meat, including horse meat, goat meat, and more. We avoided that bit entirely. You get the picture. We kept walking, and that area opened up onto street restaurants filled with people strolling, hungry in search of the perfect place. Lights twinkled overhead from one side of the street to another, a canopy for the nightlife below on a normal Saturday night.
From there, we found to our surprise, the chi-chi places, the MaxMara, the couturier and the beautiful people. Of course, we could shop there, and enjoy all of the most fashionable looking in town. A company was celebrating their 60th anniversary, with a 8 piece band, models draped around multiple Vespas (I chose the red one – gorgeous…) both in and outside, and the crowd was wild with enthusiasm. The sound rocked the street, and the band was singing “it’s wonderful” in English and Italian, as we strolled back to our car.
In town, we opted for a pizza- our favorite is a small place I told you about before, Pizza Capriccio. This time, however, the place was full, and spilling out into the street with people. We couldn’t even get in to order, and it seemed the entire neighborhood was sitting in chairs on the piazza, which should be the foyer of the old church, but is not.
The church is closed for now, because the dome is collapsing, so the enterprising owners of the pizza company “use” the space to set up white plastic tables and chairs, flanked by cars parked, and cars racing our them. The church has build tall light displays, now dim, surrounding the little piazza where we sit; they look very festive and ornate. I think that when lit it must have been an impressive square, even with the feeling that we were in the middle of the Indianapolis speedway. Our host, the lively, and lovely Carmela, does not approve of this use. It is church property, and she doesn’t like it, she says.
I had given the pizza person a Bolder Boulder poster, one of the four I had brought with me, thinking that I’d like to see a picture of it on her wall. I could see it, and how it would look in my mind, and laughed at a little Boulder left behind in Sicily. Giusy, however, the woman from Pizza Capriccio, simply rolled it up and put in under her jacket, well hidden from the public. My mind’s eye indeed.
Within ten minutes, Elaine had been bitten by swarming ants; ‘formica’ were eating, only Elaine was the lunch. She ran home to get them out of her pants, and we brought her pizza back a little bit later, after John had finished his beer. First things first.
We think that today we might hit a beach. Or not. Elaine is allergic to heat, and so we won’t be able to spend time there, but it would be another experience, in a country with so much water, to be able to go stroll on a beach, and look for sea glass, a quest, for Elaine. We also have dinner plans and gelati plans, an exhausting day. Tomorrow is our last full day in Sicily, before we return to Barcelona. Anyplace too far to drive is not going to happen now, as we slow down our exploration.
Not done, but slowing up. Thanks for tolerating all of my grammar, and bad typing. I am not an editor.