Etna

Today we went to see the great sight of eastern Sicily, Mount Etna. Europe’s most active volcano, Etna has been a magnet for visitors for centuries. Supposedly Empedocles, one of the greatest of the early Greek philosophers, fell into the volcano trying to understand the phenomenon. 

We were determined not to be so rash, but instead to follow the normal tourist routine. So we first drove to Refugio Sapienza, about halfway up the side of the mountain, where we purchased tickets for the aerial cable cars. 

This takes you most of the way to the summit. But at this point we were placed in trucks and driven up to about 3000 feet. The parade of trucks over the black volcanic gravel created a somewhat unearthly sight..

We met up with our guide after we got out of the truck. I never did catch his name, but he seemed reasonably well-informed about the geology. He spoke some English and French as well as Italian, all with a voice as gravely as the mountain itself. I suspect he probably smoked more than the volcano. 

The tourists generally followed his directions and stayed with him.

We were not allowed to go to the summit itself because it is expelling a significant amount of highly sulfurous gasses right now. So we looked at the lateral craters formed in a recent eruption. 

John came as close as they would let him get. 

I wanted to follow Empedocles and get even closer to the active crater, but the park rangers were pretty firm about not letting me do it. 

So I had to content myself with a photo of the summit. 

On our way back we looked in gift shops. It was hard to turn down buying a statue of the Virgin made out of lava and decorated with silver glitter, but I have to be aware that Air Malta is pretty strict about how much we can take with us in our luggage. 

We drove back down the mountain. John did some of the driving here. We stopped pretty often. We are getting used to our little Audi. 

The pioneer vegetation growing on the side of the mountain is quite fascinating. As this area is thickly blanketed with snow in the winter, many of the plants are alpines. 

But as we descended the mountain, the vegetation became fairly thickly forested. There were many pines, but we also noticed many of these trees. From a distance they appeared to be conifers, but looking closer we figured out that they weren't. 

The trees have a bright yellow flower and it was enchanting to drive through miles of this maize-colored forest.

We stopped by the town of Nicolosi as we came to the base of the mountain. It looked sort of interesting, but it was two in the afternoon and during this time of “riposo” absolutely nothing was open and there was nobody on the street. So we went back to the Villa Carmen and hung out by the pool for a couple hours. 

Around six o’clock we returned to Nicolisi. It was filled with life now. Communities like this have turned into the middle and upper-middle class suburbs of Catania. They are filled with prosperous professionals and their offspring. 

Clearly winter is the big tourist season here and the streets are covered with what look like Christmas decorations. 

But they will be having a festival soon for their patron said, Abbot Anthony, and his picture was rather incongruously displayed over the Dolce Vita cafe. The saint was an extreme ascetic, and I know he would not have approved of anything other than fasting and penance. But such juxtapositions, however absurd, are in a way the essence of Italy. 

Nicolosi offers awesome views of Etna. The evening was clear 

and we really could see the smoke belching from the top of the mountain. 

 It probably was a good idea for me not to imitate Empedocles. 

John loves taking surreptitious picture of the old Italian ladies. They retreat inside as soon as they see a camera, so sometimes we pretend to take selfies and aim the camera the other way. 

Our hosts had recommended an osteria on Via Garibaldi. We had a chatty waiter who was excited to practice his English. He recommended the mixed grill for two, cooked on an old roof tile. The tile continues to cook the food and keep it warm. For 24€ it was a lot of food! 

Tomorrow we head off to our final destination in Sicily. 

Catania

We get pretty attached to some of our accommodations on the trip, and our farmhouse near Siracusa was no exception. As the sun came up John had to snap some picture of our room — that’s the one with the open door —

and the view from our room.

We had another lovely breakfast and packed up. We had been adopted the last two days by Tobi, the owner’s dog, and I think he was sad to see us go. Of course, as a Basset and Beagle mix, he pretty much just looks sad all the time anyhow. It goes with the genetic territory.

Unfortunately, once again we suffered from some poor planning here. My plan for today was for us to explore the extensive Greek ruins in Siracusa. It never occurred to me until I was checking the opening hours that they would close for Mondays. I suppose I have to admire the fact that the Italians are not so wedded to making money that they are willing to shutter one of their premier tourist attractions at the height of high season. 

So, instead we decided to explore the real Italy. We went to the nearby mall. John was NOT HAPPY that I had failed to pack a swim suit before we left Los Angeles. There were lots of them for sale on the street, but he did not particularly want me to walk around wearing bright green Speedos with a picture of the Tower of Pisa on the crotch. A good aesthetic call all around…. He figured that there would be some kind of Italian version of Big Five at a mall, and he was right. We found me a tasteful pair of classic red California style trunks. We also stopped at the local branch of Auchan, the French answer to Target, and picked up some groceries for quick lunches. 

We drove for a couple hours north on some pretty decent motorway. We passed Catania and headed towards the south slope of Mount Etna. Our destination for the day was the small town of Trecastagni where I had booked us at the Villa Carmen. This inexpensive bed and breakfast has perhaps the best ratings I have ever seen on Booking.com or TripAdvisor. And once we were finally there, we figured out why. Our hosts, Carmen and Angelo, greeted us warmly. This is kind of an AirBnB kind of place. They welcome a few guests into their own house, and what were once bedrooms for the kids are now accommodations for guests from around the world. It has a homey feel to it. 

And a great pool, too! After a long afternoon of driving, I was more than ready to lounge by the pool for a bit. 

In the evening, John pushed for us to go to Catania. I had not read many interesting things about Sicily’s largest city, and when we were planning our trip I deliberately skipped it. Plus, I really hate driving the narrow streets of these “centri storici” or historic centers. But, as all of you know, I can seldom say no to John. So off we went. And I’m glad we did. Catania was a pleasant surprise. 

The streets in the center are not quite as windy and narrow as most old Italian cities. And that is because Catania has been beat up a bit over the years. A massive eruption of Mount Etna in 1669 a destroyed the western part of the city, and the 1693 a earthquake destroyed what was still standing. As a result, the center is largely largely eighteenth century and features relatively straight streets. Notice how they used volcanic rock for paving the streets.  

Once again, we succumbed to being the worst kind of tourists — and we’re not particularly sorry for it. There a phony train that runs through the center of Catania and we figured that this was the best way to get a feel for the town with a limited amount of time. It took a few minutes before the train took off. One of the local canines decided that this was a good place for a nap. 

There is an obelisk celebrating Heliodorus, a Catanian who turned from the church to the dark arts. At one point, he supposedly used magic to turn himself into an elephant. I am not sure what it says to place a monument to an apostate directly across the plaza from the cathedral. 

John and I took the very back seat in the train which allowed us to photograph the traffic behind us. 

Catania does have an even more favored son than Heliodorus, the great opera composer Vincenzo Bellini. 

For some odd reason why I was trying to snap a picture of the opera house here my iPhone switched it to black and white. I sort of think the picture looks like it came from an Rossellini film. 

There is a large garden in the center of the city, and it seemed popular with “i giovanni,” the young people. 

It was soon dark and I was ready to drive back to Trecastagni. Apart from a few wrong turns, we made it reasonably fast. When we arrived, our hosts were there to greet us with a shot of homemade alloro, a bright green liqueur made of laurel leaves. 

Tomorrow we head up the volcano.

Noto and Siracusa

We had breakfast at our masseria underneath the tree. Our hosts presented us with some lovely bread, some cheese, marmalade, yogurt, and a hard boiled egg. The weather was perfect, and it seemed hard to tear ourselves away. But we are tourists, and tourists must tour!

Our first stop of the day was the charming town of Noto. In 1693, a massive earthquake destroyed this city and several other towns in southeast Sicily. The devastation was so complete in Noto that they local leaders decided to rebuilt the city on a new site several kilometers away. Unlike medieval Noto, a maze of narrow winding streets, the new city was laid out logically on a grid. Churches and government buildings would be on the main street and nearby would be the houses of the nobility of the area. The less prosperous were relegated to high up the hill. The late eighteenth century obsession with beautiful vistas had not yet influenced city planning. And the whole town was constructed in the most modern style of the time, what architectural historians call “Sicilian Baroque."

The Duomo or cathedral dominates the town square, as you might expect in Italy. Like most of the buildings in this town, it is made of a handsome yellow stone. It has been recently restored so that it shines like it did on the day it was consecrated.

It took a while to build this church, and by the time they did the great age of the Sicilian Baroque had passed. The interior is basically neoclassical and frankly a little dull. A bit of the old Baroque style did remain in this side chapel now used for reservation of the Blessed Sacrament. 

Coming out of the church I admired the skyline of the town. 

We went to the city hall across the street. They were happy to show us their “Hall of Mirrors” that they use for weddings and for civic events. It is hardly the room of the same name in Versailles, but it would not be a bad place to sign a marriage license. John and I were fascinated by the possibilities of two mirrors facing each other more than the mediocre trompe l’oeil on ceiling. 

As we left city hall, John noticed a group of tourists heading into another church and decided that we should investigate it, too. This was the Chiesa di San Carlo, and it had some interesting little quirks. For one thing, there seemed to be a big obsession with what I think were griffins. Here are a couple by the main altar

and also supporting the pulpit. 

We figured out that the reason the tourists were lined up here was the for a small fee you could ascent the bell tower for panoramic views of the town. John has vertigo issues, but he insisted I go up and take some pictures. So, thanks to the iPhone panorama settings, here is Noto from on high.  

While I did the hard work of climbing up and dozens of narrow winding stairs, John went off to get gelato. He sent me a text telling me that he was across the street from the small opera house, But when I arrive at the square, I heard not belle canto but the sound of motorcycles. Apparently, it was a big Sunday meeting for the local Vespa clubs. There were at least two hundred people there, many of vintage scooters. 

Somebody gave a signal and all at once they were down the street in a suffocating cloud of exhaust and ear-splitting noise. 

We stopped in at the Noto Opera House. This is a tiny place and I think I read that it only seats about 350 people. It is named for Tina de Lorenzo, the daughter of some Milanese noble and a Neapolitan actress. The materials were not too clear on whether they were married or not. At any rate, she had a pretty impressive career at the end of the nineteenth century. I think this was one of her favored spots. 

 

Of course, you know where there’s a stage you’ll probably find John on it!

On our way back to the car, we stopped in at a totally forgettable museum. We went back to our farmhouse to observe the Italian custom of “riposo."

In the evening, John convinced me we should drive into Siracusa to check out Ortigia, the old part of the town. He thought it would be a great place for an evening passegiatta. I was not excited about driving through narrow streets at night, but how can I turn John down? Our GPS, whom I have named Greta Garmin, was not always the best about picking the simplest route for us, but we finally made it. I only made one possibly disastrous mistake when I turned on a one way street just as a police car was coming out. He made some vaguely less than polite gesture, but I escaped with no ticket. We found parking by the marina. 

As we walked across the bridge into Ortigia, a woman was hawking harbor cruises. As it was not that expensive and we did not have much time, we bought tickets. We were the only passengers on what was obviously the last run of the day. 

Our skipper spoke only a little English, but my Italian was good enough to mostly follow what he was telling us. 

John admired scenery all around .

The harbor is dominated by an enormous medieval fortress. 

We asked about this enormous structure that dominates the city skyline. Our captain explained that it is the "Santuario Madonna delle Lacrime.” He said that there was a statue of Mary that once cried and the because of this the church is shaped like a giant teardrop. Apparently John Paul II dedicated this architectural monstrosity. 

After getting off the boat, we wandered around the town. Siracusa is one of the oldest settlements in Sicily, and it was one of the most important cities of “Greater Greece,” the settlement of Greek-speaking colonies around the Mediterranean in the third and second centuries before the common era. Here is the old agora. 

We came across this cart. Puppetry is a great old Sicilian tradition, and puppeteers used to go from town to town in wildly decorated carts like this. This is not an old cart, but represents the desire by modern Sicilian artists to connect with their heritage. The pictures were fanciful and some were a bit risqué.

John took this picture of two girls taking a break from their stroll. As a chubby kid turned chubby adult, I feel for the girl. 

John also loved these ladies who seemed straight out of a Fellini movie.

We had dinner at the Medusa restaurant. It is recommended in all the guidebooks. The food was decent, but not astonishing. The wifi was far better than the bread. 

As we were walking back, we came across a band concert on the steps of the Duomo. 

They were not all the great, but the audience was appreciative.

We checked out a few unusual shops and went back to the car.

 

 

Tomorrow we leave for Mount Etna.