A touch of class

We took a bus to Taormina today for a day trip which involved an easy walk from home to the Catania Bus Terminal, albeit through Graffitiville and crumbling kerbing, where you have to watch your feet. I fell flat on my face yesterday and gave my back and knees a good jam, but gradually, exercise is reducing the swelling: I was lucky it was not a lot worse. With the black lava sameness of it all, it is hard to see the variations in height in footpaths here. 

The Interbus (intercity bus) scooted along the motorway north, giving us glimpses between traffic and prickly pear hedgerows of the blue blue of the Ionian Sea to our right, as it heads down to merge with the Mediterranean. 

Taormina is perched half way up a good sized mountain. About a dozen or more close shave switchbacks one after the other comprise the route folk take from sea level to the centro: where the lanes are mainly small and given over to pedestrians; or even smaller and turned into stairs, enticing you away. 

From the main Corso to various attractions and venues, whimsically decorated stairs lead you up. And then down. 

We walked up and down a lot of steps today: including the Greco-Roman Teatro, whose still beautiful ruins look out over the sea views that audiences would have been drawn to during intermission. In its day, the Teatro would have been one of the most beautiful in all of Sicily with its gorgeous leaf-topped polished Corinthian columns standing guard over niches bearing beautifully carved statues of deities from Greek mythology. And banners pulled overhead to flutter in the breeze, and offer partial protection from the sun. Watching a performance here would be magical. And they still have them in the summer. 

Everywhere you go in Taormina you can see views of the mountains in front, or the mountain -- still rising, behind: with several castles and crucifixes at various outcroppings, then way way up, still further up, but under the clouds, yet another village, right at the top. 

It was quite chilly in Taormina today as it is so high up. To go even higher you would have needed fur skin, today, I fear. 

We didn't as there was a soft grey cloudy haze hanging over everything, that even completely cloaked Mt Etna today. But I think we saw it at its loveliest with white snow on black lava top against the blue sky, with tufts of soft white cloud clinging to its smokey rim on the first day we arrived. Meanwhile we have heard there is icy rain forecast for Perugia where we are next heading tomorrow night. Looks like we are in for some bad weather. I do hope it doesn't last too long.

Taormina is not very Sicilian to me. Though it pays much attention to the whole Sicilian folk culture in its decor in many of the little cafes and bars throughout the village. It could be any well kept tourist hill town in any country in Europe, in truth; but its souvenir shops, which are plentiful, do remind you that you are in Sicily. 

Although it is well endowed with Euro boutiques, expensive restaurants and wallet-stinging cover charges, too: which is not at all the Sicily that we have come to know. Giant cedro is Sicilian: distorted pieces of lemon fruit are displayed everywhere. As are the whimsical pieces of pottery proudly on display here from Caltigirone, and other parts of Sicily. Reminding you that this is a part of Sicily.

A beautiful arch in Taormina

The main Corso with steep stairs and lanes every few metres

Whimsically decorated stairs lead upwards

Pots and plants line each set of stairs

These lined with greenery

One of the most beautiful Greco-Roman Teatros in all of Sicily

It was chilly this high

Looking down to the coastline 

Gorgeous pottery everywhere

A sophisticated tourist town, Taormina

Wallet-stinging prices in places

Caltigirone heads in Taormina

Stylish pottery

Tourists love their coffee

Downhill through the Cedro trees

Grubby elegant Catania

We took a bus from Syracuse to Catania. To get to it we took our trusty little Line 1 minbus from Ortigia across the bridge to the mainland Bus Terminal where we picked up tickets for the princely sum of €5.30 a piece for the trip, which was mostly by motorway, and mostly uninteresting. If there were motorways when we had the car we avoided them. We like to get up close and personal with the landowners and this bus took the speedy route. We were collected by our apartment lady and brought to our bijou apartment that is so central: it opens to one of the main piazza's in Catania: where the home town hero, Vincenzo Bellini's operas play. We missed seeing a performance by one night, which was a bit of bad timing on our part. 

We unpacked quickly and took to the streets and as we were orienting ourselves a tour bus filled with Russian students stopped, invited us on board for a 1 1/2 hr tour for €15 Euro and we fell for it, having nothing yet planned. Duh. Took us half an hour up the coast, and occasionally explained a few things that we could have read just as easily on a local €1 bus with Triposa open, and returned the same route. Still, it quickly showed us that Catania was not "the dump" that a couple from Malta had warned us about just a few days before in Ragusa. The northern beaches, as far as we drove, were filled with relatively smart high rise apartment blocks close to the centre, then what looked to be quite smart stuccoed second homes, or beach houses, further up. 

Set back from the shore bolstered by giant carved blocks of lava, barricading the Mediterranean. This lava we explored more the next day.

Catania sits under Mount Etna. You can see the smoking mountain from many of its streets. Catania has its very foundations dug deep into lava that has solidified after each and every eruption. You cannot escape the lava in Catania. 

And the colour of solidified lava is black. So, much of Catania is black, unremitting black, making it one of the most unique cities on the planet. But wherever it is offset with Syracuse light limestone it is quite beautiful. 

To that mix, over many centuries, much of Catania has been destroyed by earthquake, by eruption, so a rebuilding program starting in the 18th century that saw much of Catania architecture embrace the Baroque vogue. So, a lot of the Centro Storico is ornate. Crumbling today, because it has not been carefully looked after, but the city has beautiful bones, beautiful spaces, beautiful piazzas, beautiful proportions. 

And a church on every street corner. Too many. We stopped even entering them, there were so many. Most riddled with very poor graffiti. Here, it is far from street art, or ascerbic political commentary: it looks like bored youth scribbling on lava rock with spray cans: because they can. 

No one penalises them if they do. There are very few places graffiti free. But those that are stand out. Some with so much colour the graffiti mafia cannot match it. Others so elegant they dare not. Plus the carabinieri are always close by these parts. 

And in the midst of all the black lava and graffiti we found this atmospheric Catania fish market --and it was wonderful. Here we had a delicious market treat of swordfish, shrimp, cuttlefish and squid that was so divine -- we then chose fish, again, for our dinner, from a man wielding a knife as big as a machete, with as much precision and style as a Japanese sushi carver. 

We passed up on the silvery anchovies. 

But ended up with a bounty of fresh cut parsley from the arms of a born Sicilian showman. 

After which we indulged in an aperitif at an elegant street cafe, before heading home. Impressed by this grubby but shabbily beautiful city, that just needs a lot of love, care and attention to be at her very best, once again. 

Giant carved blocks of lava barricading the Mediterranean at Catania's shoreline

Mount Etna smoking

Catania's foundations are lava

Cobbles are made of lava

Stairs are made of lava

Roads are made of lava

Buildings are made of lava

Much of the Centro Storico is ornate

Palazzos converted to businesses

So much is stylish despite the lava

A beautiful church on every street corner

Ascerbic political commentary everywhere

Few places are graffiti free 

Inviting interiors

Elegant archway 

Catania fish market

Delicious mixed seafood lunch of swordfish, shrimp, cuttlefish and squid 

His knife is as strong as a machete

Silvery anchovies

Live swimming squid 

We left the swinging offal for others

Huge purple broccoli

A bounty of fresh cut parsley 

We indulged in an aperitif at an elegant street cafe

Walking Ortigia

We did our last walk around Ortigia today, so sad to be leaving. We are off to Catania tomorrow, for our last few days in Sicily before we head north. We took the southern road around the island and circled it by foot, today. Past the marina. 

Past the tent-like spire which dominates the Syracuse skyline across the water and belongs to a church not far from the archeological park and museum that we were too tired to explore yesterday. The spire is built of concrete in the shape of a teardrop, supposedly, over the ruins of a church where the statue of the Virgin was said to have been found in tears for five days in 1953. After that, some 300 miraculous cures were reported: Sanctuary of Our Lady of the Tears. 

Restaurants were touting heavily along this side, but we had made a beeline for the only place in Sicily we have returned to twice: and that was Mokrito, a casual but delightfully friendly eatery near the Fountain of Arethusa. We were lucky to get a seat, and we ended up with a counter one at that, but we counted ourselves lucky to be there. Busloads were still trying to find places to eat and folk did not want to go elsewhere. 

While many of the other restaurants were enticing tourists with free appetisers, drinks and pretty displays, Mokrito had already filled upstairs, outside, and now their counter seats without even trying, where we sat overlooking the chefs at work. We had a fine old time and because they remembered us we even ordered our food direct from the chefs to relieve the wait staff who were run off their feet. 

The food they have on offer is beautifully fresh and local, cooked to order, and delicious casual fare. Probably the tastiest meals we have had in Sicily. 

There are many bars and cafes and pizzerias that we don't bother even to walk inside. Our rule of thumb being that if we can spy ready made pizza slices in their serving bay we are not going to be customers. We won't eat warmed over breads or pizzas and the like. And we are super fussy with our pasta orders, too. If there is not something rare and unusual to us: like wild boar ragu, or shredded roasted duck we are not much interested anymore, as our own home made sauces are better than most we order, so we don't. 

Mokrito has been special to have enticed us back: and we loved it just as much the second time. 

We wandered in areas we had not spent too much time until now and noticed little bits of gorgeous architecture that caught our fancy: A portal on the marina that is quite Arabic. Gorgeous baroque decorations topping this beautiful limestone building. The lovely soft colours of the waterfront on the Ortigia side. A tree bound and gagged to keep it alive. And flowers decorating the chipped and flaking pink painted exterior of a home where a party was in progress. It might have been a big family gathering for Sunday lunch, or a special celebratory party for something. They were having fun. As we did in Syracuse.

We had such a lovely time here. 

Walking Ortigia

The spire is a teardrop over a statue of the Virgin that cried for five days

We returned to Mokrito for lunch

Some of the tastiest food we have had in Sicily

Portal on the marina is quite Arabic

Gorgeous baroque decorations atop this limestone building

The pretty Citadel end of Ortigia island

Love the waterfront colours

Tree is bound and gagged to keep it living

Flowers decorated chipped exteriors

Limestone and lemons

No wonder Sicilians flock to Melbourne, the weather is so similar.   We are getting used to the rapid changes of weather here: four seasons in one day at times. Though, today it was hot all day. We left home in jackets, but pulled them off even as we walked to the bus stop, and off they stayed all the day. 

Sicilian towns are well served by buses. Syracuse--like Palermo, Ragusa, and the inland hill towns we have just left--has a small bus that travels one way around the town perimeter. It completely circles Ortigia, our historic Syracuse island, which is all of one kilometre long and 500 metres wide and stops at many interesting points around the island. A ticket is just €1, valid for 90 minutes. So, if you hop off to have a look at a sight, you might be able to hop on and head for coffee or lunch and still have a valid ticket. We have never waited longer than 5 minutes for a bus. A wonderful service, with excellent simple signage along the route, pointing out the sites that you might find at each stopping point. 

Today we took Line 1 across the bridge to modern Syracuse, where we connected with Line 2 which took us right inside the Archeological Park. Our trusty little Line 1 bus quickly filled with oldies who had come down to the fish market near the Ortigia bridge and were now carrying their fresh dinner fish home with them: local seniors riding for free, which is such a good deal for them.  I gave up my seat to a sweet old lady, who cheered every time someone gave their seat to an elderly person: male or female. Not that too many young legs use these buses. The walking is far from strenuous on the island, it is a delight: but today we had a destination in mind: the UNESCO Archeological Park on the edge of modern Syracuse and we anticipated needing the day there, so we were motoring. 

It took about 30 minutes to get there, we bought our tickets, and started exploring the vast site which has been cordoned off in sections so you see each site in a circle walk. A little too defined for me. I prefer to roam. But, I imagine, with crowds as there would be in the summer, this would keep order, and work.

We avoided the offer of tour guides at the gate as we use on and offline Apps on the phone and iPad these days, which offer all the detail and more, that we need. Even so, those without Apps might have been somewhat befuddled in parts, as there were few information boards posted, and little in the way of directional signage. Still, staff were around most of the venues, helping out where needed. 

The three big highlights are the Greek and Roman Amphitheatre, virtually side by side, but built hundreds of years apart, and the Ear of Dionysius, a slot cavern, which has some tales to tell.

We walked through citrus groves that are filling in and gradually softening massive walls cut sheer and vertical in the vast limestone quarry on the edge of the site that had been the main source of much of the stone used around the site. Once it held some 7000 Athenian prisoners of war, after the big Syracuse win. Today, it was filled with the scent of lemons and bird song and was quite lovely.

The Greek amphitheatre was the main attraction for me. It looks today much as it ever did even 2,500 years ago. Great playwrights wrote plays for the masses. Actors were celebrities. Plays were of gods and their accomplishments, tragedies and comedies. Some 15,000 people would come to any session, and be entertained. These days only football is likely to attract that number of spectators in Australia. Much of this theatre was literally carved into the limestone in situ, giving the crowds the beautiful blue Mediterranean as a backdrop, and across that blue blue water they might even have been able to see the Isole di Ortigia: our island home. 

Close by, is the Orecchio Di Dionisio, the Ear of Dionysius, a rock cavern, very likely a geologically formed slot cavern eroded out by water, which has such perfect acoustics that tales abound that it was used by the tyrant Dionysius as a prison for his political enemies. 

Here, it is said, he eavesdropped on their plots and plans from without, so perfect were the acoustics. While we were circling the site, one of the sightseers treated us to a few beautiful measures of an Italian opera, today. Quite lovely, in this setting. Caravaggio, when he visited, gave the cavern this colourful name.

The Roman amphitheatre is like many others we have seen, though famous for being one of the largest ever constructed. It had the usual equipment rooms and animal tunnels underground along with canals of water leading into and out of the venue: some of which would have been used to clean up the blood and gore after the gruesome gladiatorial events. 

This amphitheatre, despite being hundreds of years younger than the beautiful Greek theatre is much less in tact as many of the stones from the Roman site were robbed to build fortifications around Ortigia: the old stones given a new lease of life by the island's Spanish overlords in the sixteenth century.

Afternoon saw us heading home to our cave dwelling at the bottom of the island where we took time out to read on a sign at our door that a famous Sicilian actor was actually born here: Salvo Randone. People keep stopping and taking photos, and now we know why.   Tho' we know nothing about the man or his accomplishments.  

We seem to have a knack for choosing unusual interesting little abodes. 

We live among palazzos dripping with decoration. And others decorated by nature. It is all such a delight.

We shopped for dinner fixings down our tight medieval lane at a humble pop up vegetable stall set up only for a few hours a night in the lane space. Here we bought all the vegetables we needed to accompany our spaghetti con sarde dinner for the giant sum of €1.30: tomatoes, mushrooms and fennel: a big packet full, it was too.

With fresh mandarines pulled from local trees for dessert along with thin slices of the pulp, pith and zest of cedro, an odd mutant-looking lemon fruit that we have discovered on Sicily that is sweeter than lemon, but you eat the firm white thick pith along with the pulp; while thin shaved strips of it, and the zest, enhance any pasta dish. Delicious, all.

Wonderful bus service, simple signage, easy to follow

Typical bus ticket holder

 

This limestone was used to build the amphitheatre in situ

The ancient Greek amphitheatre

Ear of Dionysius, a rock cavern Dionysius used as a political prison

 

Acoustics so perfect whispers could be eavesdropped

Stones were robbed from the much younger Roman amphitheatre to build Ortigia fortifications

The old stones were reused by the Spanish overlords in building

Our homestay was once the home of a famous Sicilian actor

All around are palazzos

This palazzo is decorated by nature

So romantic in the evening glow

Mushrooms, tomato and fennel for supper from a street corner seller

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Thick-skinned Cedro are everywhere at this time of the year