Stone upon stone: an Italian sojourn: Chipped and charming Cefalù

We've had a rushed couple of days as the other morning when we went to charge the sat nav we need for much of the rest of our time in Sicily we discovered that the SD card we bought from home that held the Italian maps was dysfunctional, and while the old machine still worked, it was now too aged, for an online update or a new map upload.

So, we had to buy a new one. What an experience. We had not realised how 'antique' sat navs now are. There are hardly any around in Sicily anymore. People use their phones, of course. And, we could, too, if we had a plan, but the way we travel: here, there and everywhere, we would need to be topping up with prepaid data about as often as we fill with fuel: so, we really needed to find one.

We visited so many places hunting one down, but with the help of Tourist Information, finally ended up with one: a Garmin, probably the last in all of Palermo, but it took us much of the morning, which caused us to miss our train to Cefalù, so we quickly rescheduled that for tomorrow, then used what was left of today to walk parts of the historic downtown we had yet to see. And visit yet another market: Il Capo, which was somewhat like the others, tho' with a little more frippery and bling in some of the cramped little alley stalls.

And we smelled, then saw, a rather evil boiling vat of spleen being prepared for workers' lunches: panna con la milza. Boiled. Spleen. Some things are just not to my taste, I am afraid.

We whipped back into Vucceria, too: shabby and grungy though it is, it's our favourite, and there we bought some goodies for lunch. Besides beautiful rustic loaves that came gift-wrapped today, we found griddled eggplant, caramelised onion, local sheep's cheese, and sublime smoked ham.

We found a knife sharpener there, hard at work, too: sharpening regular dinner knives. Now, I can't say I have ever thought to have that done, though when you think about it, they all very likely need it after many long decades of solid use.

All of which left our last day in Palermo for a visit to the UNESCO Cathedral at Cefalù, a tiny little fishing village to the east. It is just a 50 minute train ride away. We took the free bus from Quatro Canti down to the station, found our platform, and were in Cefalu in time for morning coffee. Amazing. I have two travel companions who are sleeping in later and later, here. It was really hard slog getting them up and moving this morning, but we did it.

Cefalu is all gently cracked and softly hued houses set around tiny little cobbled lanes -- this one Roman -- that have been reasonably well maintained, with some converted into coffee shops, pottery and art galleries, or restaurants.

With the sea slapping the rocks today it gave off a really relaxed holiday feel, and the giant rock, La Rocca, rearing up in the back of the village, gives a strong sense of protection, even though the aged Norman fortress is now in ruins, and even that was built over the crumbled remnants of an even more ancient Arab citadel. So, the village has been here, and safe, for a long, long time.

And only wee bits are chipped and crumbling, like these terracotta down pipes though the pottery for sale is all in one piece. With delightful inhabitants, who enjoyed having their photo taken and a funny pharmacist who called us back to make sure we got him when we were taking the fittings that may have been around since the shop first opened, in 1820, possibly. So ornate.

The Cathedral, as in Palermo, is another of the first Norman king's inspiration. Shipwrecked, praying for a miracle, Roger 11 promised God that he would build a church to honour him if he was saved. Roger landed alive and well in Cefalù and there he built his massive cathedral, just as he promised. It soars. It is immense. It rises up like La Rocca and is grand and awe-inspiring and majestic. And, again, it looks like the same crew from Constantinople might have been called in to do the tiny chips of mosaic work, as they are all so very similar to all that Roger 11 has built before in Sicily. But, all so very beautiful, too.

And the setting at the back of a piazza, surrounded by the Bishop's Palace, Seminary, and other religious dwellings on all sides must have been a gorgeous sight in the 12th century. Priest's robes a'flowing: keeping the cobbles shiny.

There are other old bits to the town, too, to add to its charm. An ancient Lavatoio from earlier days was rebuilt over the ice cold waters of the Cefalino stream: whose water, so the town tale tells, comes from a local nymph who killed her lover who betrayed her, but lived to regret it, so ended up crying herself a river.

We loved it. We finished our days in Palermo on a high note, but had to quickly come down to earth when the train bought us home in order to pack and poke and put our things away, as we leave tomorrow: head off on around the island: to see what we can see of the rest of Sicily.