Food, glorious food

Another set of reflections on my recently completed Italian holiday – this time about something that was a central feature to just about all of it, the food! Apart from the hotels and the travel, it was by far the biggest expense – and believe me, not one I begrudged. I do like my food, particularly good food – I was once asked what my favourite food was and I struggled to answer, other than to say anything as long as it's good. The only thing about food – apart from tripe and boiled cabbage – that I don't like, is a bad meal. I always feel cheated if I've eaten something and it hasn't been good. Doesn't matter what it is, provided it's tasty and well cooked, I'm a happy bunny.

And this holiday has been great for that. The food, on the whole, has been excellent. It's also not been cheap. I think the fact that the pound is so weak against the Euro has something to do with it. Also, eating in predominantly tourist towns will have played a factor too. In fact the only place that had relatively cheap food was Palermo. Cheap, that is, but very very good!!

My rule of thumb on holiday is to try to eat local foods as much as possible. I research in the guidebooks what the local delicacies are and try to find them. This time round I've done pretty well – cannoli, involtini, panelle, an arancine, cassata and pasta norma to name but a few. My other rule of thumb is never to eat in a place that has pictures on the menu, to avoid the places that automatically translate the menu into 4 languages and only to have the menu fixe if it's neither of the first two things!

I also tend to try out places recommended in the guidebooks. Which is in itself a funny experience. You turn up at the place, described as being a quiet place where the locals eat, forgetting that you yourself found it in a book with a print run of several hundred thousand and therefore, you're NOT going to be the only tourist there. No wonder the staff all look a bit bemused, and generally speak very good English (and German, and French...).

The flavours this holiday have been fantastic – tomato, mozzarella, ricotta, seafood, aubergine. And bread – lots of bread. Which leads me to believe that my wheat intolerance is indeed more psychosomatic than real, or at very least, linked to stress. It's no coincidence that after the ferry trip my stomach rebelled when it had been fine for the rest of the holiday. And I'm pleased that seems to be the case, otherwise I'd have missed all sorts of culinary delights – no pizza, no lovely Italian bread, no bruschetta, no (gasp) cannoli and no torte. It would have been a completely different holiday without the wheat!!

I didn't try everything – I gave the panini con la milza a miss, and the ice cream breakfast brioche (yes, really!). I confess I did have veal – and it was lovely. In my defence, it was already dead and it would have been a waste if I hadn't eaten it. Ok, not much of a defence...

There's also been plenty of wine – not in excess, but certainly in everyday quantities. And Limoncello, my new discovery of the holiday. And Almond wine, beautiful.

And yes, I am the size of a house now and will need to get back running again fairly soon to shed some of the pounds and inches I've doubtless gained. But it was worth, oh it was so worth it!

A plus to D minus

I like blogging about my holiday as I'm experiencing it – in part because it keeps it fresh in my mind and in (large!) part because it stops my Mum from worrying about me travelling on my own. But it's also good, at the end of it to spend some time thinking about the holiday as a whole and reflecting on the good, the bad, and yes, the ugly.

So here goes:

The good – it's hard to pick out the good bits on their own. In reality, the whole holiday has been fantastic and I've enjoyed it very much. I think even more than I thought I would. My solo travel confidence has grown ten-fold from last year, and in itself that's been a highlight of the holiday.

But as for things I've done and places I've seen, in no particular order, the highlights have been:

• the food
• the Sicilian matriarchs who shared my train journey from Rome to Sicily
• Palermo – all of it
• Monreale
• standing on the roof of St Peter's in Rome
• Limoncello
• Etna
• Trying to speak Italian, and finding that I can get by
• Scoring free food and drinks from sentimental waiters
• my cabin on board the Palermo-Genoa ferry
• the almost personal tour of the Teatro Massimo, and my nameless Irish companion
• Cafe Spinnato in Palermo
• Paris – the whole experience, including getting completely lost and ending up at Place de la Bastille instead of Rue Monge

Sadly, it's not all been great. There have been a few scary moments, and some ugly times. But fortunately, they've been few and far between. And even better – quickly resolved and easily got over.

For the record, they were:

• Catania bus station – Dante would have added a 10^th circle if he'd been there, I'm sure
• Genoa ferry terminal, and not being able to find a taxi – at night. On my own.
• Genoa railway station – the 4 armed police arresting the drunk with the knife was not a pleasant experience
• the creepy old Sicilian guy who kept rubbing himself up against me on the bus to Monreale – seriously, I wasn't imagining it. Every time I moved, he followed me. Euch!
• The tourists in Rome – did I say yet that I didn't like them?!
• Falling over in Taormina and seriously brusing my bum – and my pride. Out of interest, the bruise is now the exactly the same shape as Corsica, but fortunately not the same size – it only feels that way
• Not being able to visit everywhere and see everything I wanted to – mainly through lack of time, occasionally through lack of confidence.
• Not eating at that restaurant in Rome that was recommended to me – it looked really good but I wasn't confident enough to stay out late enough for them to start serving. But, I scored a free Limoncello at the alternative restaurant I went in its place, so not all bad!

And there you have it, a quick resume of the past 2 weeks. Well, not really. If you really want to know all the gory details, and have got a spare few hours, take me out for a drink and I'll tell you ALL about it. If you're really lucky I'll bring the holiday photos too...

And for the last time (this year at any rate) – Ciao!

Ignorance isn't bliss, it's just plain dumb

Now that I'm leaving Italy, I realise – with some shame – how little I actually knew/know about the place, its history and its people. For example, it wasn't until I was leaving last night on the ferry that I realised where Malta is (I know Malta isn't Italy but it's indicative of my lack of knowledge, embarrassingly!).

I've managed to visit Italy during its 150^th birthday celebrations. It was in 1861 that Garibaldi lead the unification of Italy (including Sicily) into one nation state. Before that, I think, it was a series of principalities and small states. It took me some time to realise that the banners I kept seeing everywhere we're celebrating this fact. And even longer to remember that it was Garibaldi who was responsible. I now understand why there are so many streets dedicated to Vittorio Emmanuele – he was their first king. I'm not so sure who Cavour was, but there are lots of streets to him too. [Note to self: remember to look that up on Wiki when you're next online.]

I'd also never put together that Sicily played a significant role in the Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage. Hamilcar and Hannibal both battled over the island. I seem to remember references in the set book passages we had to translate in O Grade Latin. Having been to Tunisia (Carthage, I think?) and now Sicily has brought a bit more to life. Of course, visiting Rome should have done the same, but it was just so full of tourists and tourist tat that it was hard to see beyond it. (Have I mentioned at all, that I didn't like Rome much?!)

As well as Rome and Carthage battling over the island, it seems to have been the target of a huge number of other invaders. Perhaps not surprising, given its prime location at the crossroads of the Mediterranean? Amongst these invaders were – the Greeks, the Turks, the Spanish, the French, the Germans, the Allied Forces towards the end of WWII and now, it seems, waves of hopeful emigrants from North Africa, the Middle East and the Indian sub-continent – if the media is to be believed, many of them illegal. No wonder then, that the island is such a hotch potch of different cultures, cuisines and traditions. Each of them brought and left a little something, which all put together makes Sicily what it is today.

I would highly recommend a visit to this wonderful island. Don't miss out Palermo despite what everyone says. If you do, you'll miss an important element of what Sicily is. If you don't like edge to your holidays, however, don't stay long – it won't be for you. Head off instead to the seaside towns and hill top villages, visit the remnants of the various civilisations to populate and create the place and – above all – forget any notions of diet and enjoy the food! It's what I'll be doing when I come back next time.

Life on the ocean wave

My latest mode of transport on this great adventure of mine has been a boat – a ferry to be precise, but not any ferry I recognise. This is really quite plush – although if you look closely, I think you'll find it is still just, after all, a ferry. It's just one that people have to spend an extended period of time on, so the facilities are a little more luxurious than the greasy spoon cafés you'll find on most CalMac Hebridean ferries.

I realised, as I was waiting to board last night – feeling a little bit lost and lonely next to this huge boat and without much sign of what you were supposed to do – that it's been about 23 years since I last travelled as a foot passenger on a ferry. In fact, it may well be about 23 years since I last travelled on a ferry full stop. It's certainly a long time since I travelled any distance on one. 23 years ago, it would have been a short hop Channel one to get me and my travelling companion to Paris for onward connections to the Rhone valley and Provence. That was a fantastic trip – lots of lazy sunny days, a very companionable companion and some fabulous experiences and sights.

But back to this boat. When I booked, I took the added extravagance of a suite rather than just a cabin. I say extravagance, but it was actually on 10 Euros more. And I can tell you, they were 10 Euros well spent – I had a sumptious space to spend the night – full size double, nay king size, bed, a proper bathroom and, luxury of luxuries, a window. My suite was right at the front of the boat, so my window pointed exactly where we were going. I left my curtains open and was treated during the night to most dazzling stars I've seen in a long time, and then this morning by the rosy pink light of dawn.

We left Palermo at around 11 pm. When I got up this morning at around 9 am we had already reached Rome. Thinking that couldn't be right, I looked again at the map and realised we were only really half way there. It's 700km from Palermo to Genova – that's one heck of a long way!!

According to the announcement, the sea conditions were 'wavy' today, which I think might mean slightly choppy – but you would barely know we were on water. The boat is so big that it just takes it all in its stride. However, I suppose it is the Mediterranean after all – which is really just a big lake with an opening at one end – and it's never going to be particularly rough. Mind you, when you look out the window and all you can see is, well, sea, it doesn't feel that small.

We are due to arrive in Genoa at around 7pm. My onward train to Ventimiglia is at around 9pm. So just enough time to get to the station, find something to eat and prepare to leave Italy altogether. Tomorrow is TGV to Paris for an evening and a day there. I've already picked out what I want to do – Notre Dame and the Ile de la Cite generally, supper on the Left Bank and then Saturday at Musee d'Orsay and a Batobus trip up and down the Seine, with perhaps a visit to la Tour Eiffel if there's time before I board my evening Eurostar back to London – and reality.

Has that really been 2 weeks already? I must start planning my next adventure – any suggestions, anyone?

No mean city

Well, my time in Sicily is ending. I'm on board the boat to Genoa and it sets sail very soon. Internet connection will be limited, and very expensive so I'm going to have ration myself. This will therefore be a photo-less, link-less post until I get the chance to edit and update it back on dry land! Please bear with me, normal service will be resumed in due course.

Rather than try to pack too much into my last day in Sicily, I forewent the opportunity for an out of town excursion and decided instead to leave the day free for aimless wandering. Not entirely aimless – I had three objectives in mind. And I achieved all three of them, I'm pleased to say. But I'm racing ahead...

Unfortunately, I'm not quite in tune enough with Palermo yet to be able to know where the best places to just sit and savour the atmosphere so most of the day was spent on my feet. I did find a couple, however – in front of the fantastical confection of Norman, Arab, Gothic splendour that is Palermo Cattedrale, and catching the evening sun (and skateboarders) in the Piazza Politeama. But even with all the walking, it's been a great day – and a great end to a fabulous visit in this most surprising of cities.

I confess, as regular readers will know, I did have misgivings about coming here. Everyone I spoke to, every guide book I read seemed to warn against Palermo. There were sharp intakes of breath and raised eyebrows, suggestions of alternative places to go and looks of pity when I explained I'd already booked my hotel. But I'm really glad I stuck with my plans and came here. It's been by far the best bit of the holiday, and I definitely want to come back to this wonderful, shabby, gritty, tumble-down, lively, beautiful city.

Sitting in front of the Cattedrale today, with the late afternoon sun warming the honey coloured stone, I was amazed at how tranquil it actually was – if you ignored the backdrop roar of the traffic inches from my back that is. If this were Rome, there would have been hordes of tourists – and those who prey on tourists – all around me. I would barely have been able to move for tours, and I certainly wouldn't have been able to take my time to enjoy the place at my own pace. I know it may be sacrilegious, but I wish I'd given Rome a miss and spent more time in Sicily. I've enjoyed it far more!

The morning was a strange juxtaposition of everyday life – in the form of Mercato del Capo, and high society – in the form of the grand opera house, Teatro Massimo. The Mercato was very down to earth and very real, no dispensations or accommodations for tourists. In fact my shoes probably still have a slight whiff of fish about them from the run-off from the melting ice. Sadly, I don't have any photos to share of the market – it was so everyday that it felt intrusive and wrong to take photos, so I didn't. You'll just have to take my word for how lively and colourful it all was. The only photos I did take were of a stunning church that just appeared in my line of sight between 2 stalls and the maelstrom of the market. Beautiful stuccos and frescos right there amid the chaos and the clamour.

I wandered at will, taking whichever street seemed most interesting at the time and not really caring where I ended up, trusting my feet and Palermo to see me safe to the other side. It reminded me of a game Mum and I used to play when we were out in a strange place in the car. We'd drive to a junction, choose a direction at random and see where it took us. Truly, there and back to see how far it was.

Wandering the market like that took me through all its departments – food, homewares, toys, haberdashery, clothes. It really is true that Palermo residents live their lives in the open.

And then it was time to visit the Teatro. I'd been in the morning to take the tour and was advised to come back 'after 12' because rehearsals might have stopped by then and I would be able to see the auditorium. They hadn't, but I think that was probably a good thing – firstly, there were only 2 of us on the tour so it was like a personal visit, and secondly, we got to hear what it would be like to go to a performance there. It truly is an amazing place – as stunning from the inside as it is from the outside - and the sound was bellissima. It's the 3^rd largest in Europe, apparently – after Paris and Vienna, and has the most enormous stage, a magnificent Royal Box, a roof that opens to let in light and air, with the sections designed to look like petals opening in the sun, and – just because the architect could – a perfect echo chamber in one of the salons.

My tour companion was a kindred spirit, solo traveller from Ireland. I never did catch his name but his company was great for the tour – and for the world's slowest queue while we waited to buy our tickets. It was lovely to have someone to chat to, but I'll be honest, my only regret when I said goodbye to him outside the theatre was that I hadn't recommended more places for him to visit. I've really grown to enjoy my solo travelling. There are times when it would be good to have a companion – like tonight, waiting for the ferry to board and not being sure if I was in the right place or not, or when there's something truly amazing to point out, or even just to be able to visit that slightly out-of-the-way destination with the added confidence of someone else there too. If I do travel with a companion again, it will need to be someone who is equally happy to share experiences and to strike out alone on occasions. And if I do, I will need to work hard not to lose the self reliance and independence I’ve discovered in myself these past few holidays. Not be scared to go it alone at times, and to have the company as a bonus, not a crutch.

But, the boat leaves soon and I have a forward facing cabin to watch the view from. So I'll sign off for now.

Arrivederci Sicilia – because I will be back...

Girl v. City - Round 2

After yesterday's successful walking encounter with Palermo, there was every chance that today would fall flat on its face. It didn't, however, I'm glad to say - the tour bus did, but that's another story.

After braving the pavements and guiding myself round Palermo yesterday on foot, today I opted for the open top bus tour to see what else I could learn about this fascinating city. The answer, somewhat surprisingly and gratifyingly, was not much actually. I had wondered whether I should have done the bus tour first and then walked the city to explore more fully once I'd got my bearings. But the bus route, constrained as it was to the more major streets, barely scratched the surface of the place - even less so than these tours normally do. I would have been no more confident after the bus tour than I was anyway. Diving in was definitely the right approach - it allowed me to be seduced by the city, instead of just learning to tolerate it.

The streets in Palermo, even the main ones are - on the whole - fairly narrow affairs. Negotiating a bus along them would be tough at the best of times, but in amongst the frankly terrifying Palermo traffic, it's nothing short of a miracle. I thought the traffic in Rome was mad, but here it takes on a whole new level of psychosis. It seems to come from all directions at once, even one way streets aren't. And the areas pedonale, well, they're the most dangerous of all. I'm rapidly learning that signs in Italy, whilst extremely stern, are entirely advisory. Or so it would seem.

But back to the bus tour. That the bus manages to thread its way through the traffic, as I said, is amazing. That it does so without incident would be nothing short of miraculous. So, no surprise then, that the bus I was on managed to rear-end a car during our tour. There was much gesticulating and shouting, and then everyone went back on their way again. To be fair, the guy in the car was clearly at fault - he had a whole 10 cm in front of him of unused road space, what did he expect?!

The other effect of the narrow streets is that when you're travelling on an open top bus, you feel like you could just stretch out your hands and touch both sides at once. Unfortunately, this doesn't really come out in a photo so you'll just have to take my word for it.

So, did I see anything new? Yes and No. As I've already said, I don't think I got to Palermo any better than I'd already started to do. I did, however, find some new places and get some new impressions of places I'd already passed. Today's discovery was Monreale - a hilltop cathedral and small town just outside Palermo. Built to rival the Cathedral in Palermo itself, the simple Norman outside belies the glittering and simply dazzling interior - almost the entire inside is covered in the most beautiful mosiacs, telling almost the entire story of the Old and New Testament. Even 3 showings for Rebecca, the loyal (stop laughing!) wife of Isaac, and mother of Jacob. And an exceedingly grumpy looking Eve, post eviction from Eden.

What else? I saw the Villa Malfitano and Castello Zisa - maybe for another trip. I also saw Mercato Del Capo, that's for tomorrow, along with a tour of the Teatro Massimo and lunch at Casa Del Brodo. And then it's the overnight ferry to Genoa and the start of my homeward journey - via Paris and London.

Enough for tonight. This post has taken far longer to write than it should have. Hope you enjoy it!

All life is here

Wow, what an amazing city Palermo is. I wouldn't quite say I conquered it today, it's much too complex for that. But I dived in, I experienced it, I survived. And, can I just say, I loved it too!! I didn't think I would, but I did. I'm so glad I opted not to take the open top bus sightseeing tour today (that's saved for tomorrow) and to head out on foot instead. There was so much to see and experience, it kept me going all day and I finally feel a little bit more at ease in this wild, untamed city.

I decided this morning (after quite the worst breakfast of the entire holiday so far - note to self: business hotels and breakfast buffet are definitely things to be avoided in future bookings), to take the walking tour described in my trusty guidebook. By the time I stopped for a restorative coffee 2 hours in, I had already been lost about 4 times. Not lost as in, no idea at all where you are kind of lost, but not where I'm supposed to be and not really sure where that actually is anyway, kind of lost. But it was all part of the adventure, and I can safely say I loved every single minute of it. OK, the part where I couldn't find the way into the Palazzo Reale was a bit annoying, but otherwise, it was a blast!

I started off in familiar territory at the Teatro Massimo but quickly broke my own rule about empty streets by diving off - as the guidebook told me - down a fairly quiet one. I knew where it was going, the guidebook had directed me there, surely it would be ok? I confess to a momentary flutter of nerves, but I pressed on and I'm so glad that I did. Very quickly the environment changed from major city street to residential barrio - a place where real people lived and worked real lives.

Palermo is a decidedly real city. There is none of the sterile modernity you get in a lot of European urban areas. Here, even right in the city centre, are people's homes and places of work. Not office work either, workshops - people making real things for real use, not just pieces of tourist ephemera. And despite the grime and obvious poverty, it is a city that feels loved. Yes, there's litter overflowing from the communal rubbish collection points, and there's dust and broken buildings wherever you look. But there's also a sense of pride - stubborn, love or leave me, take me as I am kind of pride, but pride all the same.

Of course, heading off down the side street I immediately got lost but fairly quickly found my bearings again - the trick is to find a few landmarks (in reality or on a map) when you start, and orient yourself by them when you lose your way. But once I found my feet again (and again. And again!) I managed to wind my way round several churches in various flavours of Norman, Arab, Roccoco, Baroque and Mediaeval, a full on market, a legendary Palermo eating establishment, several palazzos, the Cattedrale, and the Sicilian Assembly building and attached Palatine chapel and Royal Apartments! Not bad for a day's walk/work.

But the biggest achievement was finding a way to love this city. I didn't think I would manage it, and I might change my mind again tomorrow. But for now, we're an item. And I'm pleased about that.

Why not have a look at my photos on Flickr and see what you think...

Travelling hopefully

As they say, sometimes the journey is part of the destination. And other times, they say better to travel hopefully than something else... Either way, I don't think either commentator had ever visited Catania bus station. It surely is one of the 7 circles of hell! Apparently they're building a new one, and if you ask me it can't come soon enough.

To be honest, during the connection in Catania, which saw me walk from the bus stop (confusingly, not in the bus station but on the street outside) to the railway station, back from the railway station, round the block and into the bus departure area - only to have to retrace my steps back round the block to find the cunningly disguised ticket sales office, and all of this in amidst the most horrendous traffic you've ever seen, I did wonder whether I'd made a huge mistake. Cars were whizzing by all over the place, an annoying taxi driver dogged my footsteps the entire time making me grip ever tighter onto my bags and it was the most squalid, flea-bitten, rubbish strewn, down at heel place I've seen in Europe ever. The only place more intimidating was in India!

But, luckily, at the bus stances two local girls took me in hand, showed me where to buy tickets, warded off the (many) beggars and made sure I got onto the right bus at the right time. I know I would have coped perfectly well without them, but it was just easier - for which, mille grazie ragazzi!

Once on the bus it was fine. The coach was luxurious and sped through the Sicilian countryside at a fair lick. We moved through areas of orange, lemon and olive groves into spaghetti western country, through hills squeezed and folded out of the earth's crust, along side barely visible rivers despite the recent downpours until finally, 2 hours later, we hit the northern coast and there was the sea again. Sparkling blue and alluring.

I was very nervous about getting to Palermo. To be honest, if I could have stayed on the coach I probably would have but that would have been no way to spend 3 days so I thought I'd better get off. Fortunately, Palermo bus station was an idyll in comparison to Catania. Next to the railway station, it was sufficiently shielded from street hawkers, beggars and over enthusiastic taxi drivers to be almost pleasant. The hotel on arrival, while somewhat strangely entered underground, is very well appointed and, it turns out, very well located too.
  

Palermo is ...interesting. Nowhere near as bad as I had been worried about, but still at the same time somewhat on the seedy side. I'm sure it's a lot safer than it felt, but the streets very quickly turn from wide and welcoming to narrow and frankly quite intimidating. I've been for a quick stretch of my legs to get oriented, found a lovely cafe/wine bar round the corner where I had a (very) late lunch and to which I'll probably return shortly for a light supper, and most importantly, I've found out that the tour bus leaves from just outside the hotel. So that's tomorrow sorted, and my proper orientation to what looks like being a really interesting city - even if it isn't the type of place I'll particularly want to be out and about in of an evening.

Moving on

A quick post this morning before leaving Taormina for the next stage of my adventure. In just over half an hour, I'll be leaving to head off for Palermo. This is the only bit of travel on the journey that I didn't book in advance and I'm hoping it works out ok. I've been advised to take the bus as it's much faster than the train. I think in part that's because the train winds its way round the coast, and in part because they really are old and rickety here in Sicily. I thought perhaps one of the reasons they brought the Rome train across on the ferry was because it was a posh one and they didn't want to leave it on the island. But no, it was as rickety as the other ones here. I think the Italians, like me, just love the idea of putting passengers on a train and then putting the train on a boat. I confess it was partly that experience that persuaded me to train it all the way to Sicily!!

But back to now, I'm off to Palermo. City of grit, bad driving, baroque splendour, poverty, life and cannoli. I'm really not sure what to expect. As the guidebook says, like all big cities, you just need to have your wits about you. Don't look like a tourist - suits me down to the ground!

Interestingly, the guide book also says:

"Visiting here is thrilling for what the city has to offer, but, it can also be a challenge. Traffic is horrible as cars, trucks and buses clog the narrow streets, often coming to a standstill for hours. This has caused a yellow cloud of pollution to hang constantly over the city making air quality less than desirable, covering cars and buildings with dust"

And that's the guidebook - I hate to think what the critics say!! 

But there are also plenty of sights to see and experiences (hopefully good ones) to be had. And if all else fails, I can hop on a train and take a day out to visit one of the surrounding towns or villages. Being the main city in Sicily, Palermo is well connected to most other parts - although not, it would appear, the one I'm in now! Go figure. 

I'll check in later once I get there and let you know how it really is. And in the meantime, (Mum!) don't worry, I'll be careful. I survived Rome after all....

Rainy Days

They don't get me down.

It may have been raining. I may have walked, in what felt like 100% humidity, up a never ending flight of steps, but no, rainy days definitely don't get me down. Particularly not when I'm on holiday.

Today, to celebrate that the sun was not burning a hole in the pavement, I decided the time was right to take a trek to the neighbouring hilltop village and see what was there. Lured on by promises of a food festival, I put my best foot forward and started the walk.

 
Now, the words 'hilltop' and 'strenuous' should really have been a warning to me. As should the bemused looks from the locals I stopped to ask for directions. But no, on I headed - up and up, and...up! My only companions, apart from a rather mad Polish Canadian woman, were hundreds of ants - no doubt flooded out by last night's deluge. But on I went, past broken streetlamps and crumbled steps, half finished buildings and long abandoned gardens. I was starting to worry about what I would find at the top - and then I got there. And found...a confusing maze of streets leading to nowhere, or so it seemed.

Like all good hilltop towns, Castelmola is built to confuse, and it did. It took me a good 10 minutes to find my way - in what is really a very small place - to anything resembling a public open space. But when I got there, it was all worth it. Not for the view, which was absent. Well, not absent but suffering from an addition of cloud that meant you couldn't see it. But for the place itself. Everything I hoped for from an Italian hilltop settlement - nestled around its church and castle, winding streets and close built houses, it was idyllic.

And as if that - and the food festival - wasn't enough, what more could a girl ask for than to sit  supping her cappucino, eating her torte di mandorle and tasting her Vino delle mandorla (yup, it's Almond Town!) surrounded by penises! Not the idiot dunderhead kind either, the male genitalia kind. Everywhere you looked - and I mean Everywhere - there they were. Coat hooks, lampstands, beer taps, wall decorations, on the menu, on the napkin. Everywhere. Dicks, penises, wongas, knobs, john thomases - the works. All in honour of the fearsome stone minchia in the church next door - which, by the way, I looked very hard for but couldn't see.

Not even the complete soaking, or the slip on the way back down the hill leading to a jarred shoulder and a very bruised behind could put a dampener (so to speak) on it. It just goes to show, if you look hard enough, you can always find something to entertain yourself with. Ahem!

7 down, 9 to go

Ok, I've been travelling now for 7 days and still have just over a week to go. What have I done so far? Well....

• I've travelled by train, boat, bus and taxi - plus quite a bit of shanks pony if you include the sightseeing
• I've passed through 4 capital cities
• I've eaten far too much food
• I've seen some wonderful and amazing sights
• I've met some interesting people, a few of whom I could even understand..
• I've learnt more Italian - not hard since I didn't know much to start with
• I appear to have mastered eating on my own
• I am becoming an ever more confident solo traveller
• I've had so much fun

And now, what next? Well, I have one day left here in Taormina. It rained last night - nay, it absolutely poured down last night, complete with thunderstorms that lit up the night sky long after they'd passed across the water to Italy. The result is that it's much fresher today, so I think a walk up to the next village up in the hills is called for. From what I can make out, they're having some kind of harvest festival/celebration of local food today, so that seems like as good a reason as any.

Then tomorrow I'm off to Palermo - variously described as gritty, fiesty, real and full on. Hmm, not sure what to expect. But whatever it is, it will be an experience to add to the many wonderful ones I've already had this holiday.

Care to join me?

For every thing there is a season...

...and a time for every purpose under heaven.

It seems today, my time came to be one of the things I detest most in the travelling world - a group tourist. Yes, readers, today I joined an organised tour and saw the countryside from a coach. In my defence, we weren't obliged to wear stickers with a cutesy symbol and our names on. Nor was I required to follow a woman speaking into a microphone and carrying a gaudy plastic flower. But, nevertheless, I was on a group tour. There's simply no getting away from it.

The excuse I'd like to use is that there was no other way of getting where I wanted to go today without partaking of said sin. I'd like to say that, but sadly it's just not true. I could have managed it, just much less conveniently. So like an (i)sheep, I signed up, paid my fee and became a tourist for the day!!

And all in honour of visiting Europe's tallest and most active volcano - the awe-inspiring Mount Etna, or Mongibello as the locals apparently call it. It wasn't spouting flames or little bursts of magma, contrary to what the publicity photos might lead you to believe. But it was impressive all the same. Impressive in a surreal, other wordly kind of way. I was struck, as I travelled up in the cable car over what must be the world's most bizarre ski resort, that the lava flows looked just like black snow. It felt like I'd stumbled across a negative world, and then somehow landed on another planet, a black Mars perhaps.

Our trip took us from the Etna Terrace at 1900m by cable car up to 2500m, and then by moon-buggy style jeep up to 2900m just below the (live) summit. At 2900m, we got out and were taken for a walk up to and inside the 2002 eruption crater. Apparently, it's now completely safe since it's all burnt out (oh, how I know what that feels like!), but all the same it was a somewhat spooky experience. I had to keep telling myself that they do this everyday, and there's no way they would put a group of German and American tourists in harm's way for fear of being sued. And no, that's not an active magma chamber you feel rumbling beneath your feet, it's just your over active imagination!

But I'm glad I did it. Even being a sheep was worth it for the experience. Look, I even took a Me with xxx (fill in the blank) shot just to celebrate the fact!

And now, it's been a long day so just as soon as my photos finishing loading, I'm off to sleep and in the morning I'll work out what to do with my last day in Taormina. If it's not too hot - or too rainy - maybe a walk up into the hills behind the town? But if tonight's thunderstorms reappear, it will need to be something different.

What will it be? Tune in tomorrow to find out...

Si, sono sola

Shh, don't tell anyone, but I might just have cracked eating solo. At any rate, it's been much easier - so far - this holiday than it was in Spain. I seem to have mastered the ability to go into a restaurant of an evening and have a meal, by myself, without props or a safety net - or at least, without a book to bury myself in as defence against the awfulness that eating on your own can be.

Tonight, for example, as I sat at my table in the trattoria, under the stars, I felt perfectly comfortable. I didn't feel in the slightest bit out of sorts - well, perhaps only a little bit - but when I compared myself with the poor young mum at the next table dealing with in-laws, an Italian husband and a demanding toddler, I think I definitely came off better.


I think the trick is to be incredibly nosey - or at least that's what seems to work for me. I take an unhealthy interest in other tables' conversations. I know what they've ordered. I can tell what nationality they are. I use it as an opportunity to practise my foreign language comprehension skills. And if all else fails, I compose blog posts and restaurant reviews in my head. Most of all, I enjoy the food and the location and the experience.

It seems like a fantastic step forward from last year's trials and tribulations in Spain, and a million years from my ordeal in Bristol, when one evening it was all I could do not to burst into tears in the middle of the dining room. I'm not sure if it's that in Italy they look after their solo diners more carefully, or I'm just getting better at it. I don't remember this confidence last year, but then in Spain I did take advantage of the tapas style, which meant I didn't really have to brave the full on dining experience.

Here in Italy, or at least in Rome and in Sicily, they don't seem as embarrassed about their single guests as UK restaurants do. They don't try to hide you away for fear that you might put a bit of a downer on their other patrons.

In fact, here rather than me feeling uncomfortable it feels more like the waiters are on edge - taking extra trouble to make sure that the signora has a good evening, a little bit more attention perhaps. A small extra touch to make her smile.

Perhaps it's because, as with most places, the singleton's tables are not in the best location - well, not the best  if you're after an intimate dining experience or a romantic ambience. Solo tables are often near the kitchen, at the edge of the room but not hidden away here - quite the reverse, being near the serving stations means that you are more in the line of activity. Last night I was right by the dessert fridge. The night before I had a line of sight to the kitchen - and even got a cheery wave from the chef when I left.

No, I confess, I quite like it here. Although it could also have to do with those 'little extras' a number of the waiters have felt obliged/compelled to put my way - a refill on my wine here, a free aperitivo there, and even on my first night in Rome, a whole packed breakfast to take away and the offer a date the next night.

Needless to say, I didn't take up the offer of the date - but I did take the breakfast. Am I bad?

When in Sicily....

...eat cannoli! Oh well, if you insist.

As my regular reader will know, I made it to Sicily last night after a lengthy, not very luxurious but strangely deeply enjoyable train journey. With the whole boat on the train thing too. I'm here, the sun is shining, the sea is sparkling and life is good. Finally the neverending and overwhelming noise of Rome has been replaced by the much quieter and more sedate pace of life that is Taormina. Not that Taormina completely escapes the tourists since it's a popular stop for the cruise ships but there's nowhere near as many of them here and they seem somehow quieter, less in your face.

The other difference here is that, unlike Rome and other big cities, it doesn't take long to find areas with no or very few other people. In big cities, deserted streets and back lanes are not the friend of the solo traveller, but in small towns like this, they are a godsend. A place to escape the clamour, to drink in the atmosphere, to explore and savour, to discover and learn, to find the small, quiet details that really bring a place to life.

Taormina itself is a strange set of contradictions - a place of ostentatious wealth, with numerous designer shops filling the main drag down the Corso Umberto whilst in the back streets it's much more down at heel. Sicily, like much of the rest of southern Europe suffers from continuing poverty and deprivation. Unemployment is high and apparently there is still a significant brain drain of skilled young people from the island to mainland Italy in search of work that pays more than the local tourism and agricultural economies can do.

It's a mix of old and new too - with the Greek Amphitheatre and the many emerging modern apartment blocks in similar states of unfinished-ness, but for very different reasons. The otherwise idyllic view from my breakfast terrace here at my hotel is slightly spoilt by the building work that's going on and any view south from the town will include at least one crane with various lumps of concrete or bits of steel dangling from it.

Finally, Taormina is a mix of refined and wild, surf and turf, beach and mountain. The town is dominated by the smoking cone of Mount Etna, one of Italy's remaining active volcanoes - and my destination for tomorrow. Unfortunately I'd wanted to book the Saturday trip, leaving as it does at a slightly more respectable 8.30 am but the weather, I was advised, is due to be poor on Saturday - a quick check confirms that snow is forecast for the summit! - so instead I'm booked for tomorrow's 7.00am tour by way of some gorge or other, a train around the foot of Etna before heading on to the summit via cable car, bus, jeep and foot. Fingers crossed it lives up to my expectations!

I guess I'd better go and stock up on food now. It looks like being a long day as well as an early start, and I don't want to be hungry, do I?!

Trains, boats and automobiles

I am so in love. Arrived in Sicily this evening - 21 degrees at 8.30pm and walking distance to a fabulous open air terrace serving yummy food and ice cold Limoncello. What more could a girl ask for?

But I'm getting ahead of myself - and probably being a touch dramatic!

Ok, back to the start of the day. I left Rome this morning with mixed feelings. In many ways, I wasn't sorry to be leaving behind the noise, hustle and bustle, and the crowds. But I still had the sneaking suspicion that I had barely scraped the surface of the city, and maybe there was more to it than I'd discovered in my admittedly short visit. After all, I only really frequented the main tourist haunts, a bit like visiting Edinburgh and never straying off the Royal Mile. No wonder it felt busy and touristy. Maybe I just didn't let rome show it's best side.

To be fair, there were glimpses of it last night when I headed back towards the Pantheon area to find the restaurant recommended to me by my good friend, Deborah. As I blogged yesterday, unfortunately my eating habits and Italian fine restaurant opening times weren't aligned yesterday and it wasn't to be. But the walk there through early evening Rome was certainly a less frenetic experience than I had in Rome up to that point. There were still plenty of tourists around, even those infernal group tours, but they were definitely fewer and further (literally) between, and pleasantly intersperesed with 'real' people - on their way home from work, nipping out for an early evening aperitivo, browsing the shops. The sun was down, and so was the tourist clamour. The softer lights were easier on the eye, and on the buildings. The hot day had given way to a beautifully mild evening that allowed me to relax - or was it the Limoncello!

So leaving Rome Termini this morning wasn't quite as big a relief as I feared it might be when I first arrived in the infernal city. I didn't throw a coin in the fountain, but that doesn't mean I won't think about going back.

And then my train to Sicily arrived - hmmm! Not quite what I was expecting. When it said 'Intercity' on the ticket, I thought it would be another of the ultra modern high speed trains I've been using so far. Nope, it was a train that, let's say, would have made most of Network SouthWest's rolling stock look modern... But looks, it seems, can be deceiving. The train may have looked rickety but it ran completely to time for the entire 9 (count them!) hour trip. The facilities left quite a bit to be desired - very basic toilet, no buffet service - unless you count the man and his shopping trolley selling bottles of water. But it went, and it went to time. And that's often more than you can say for UK trains these days sadly.

Before long - ok, after about 3 hours - the noise and rush of Rome had been replaced by the sparkle of the sea and the warm glow of the golden sand as we whipped our way along the Italian Riviera, past Napoli and plenty of other stations I didn't quite catch the names of.

It really was a beautiful journey - and it was also very real. I thought I'd experienced the 'real' Italy on my train journeys so far. But no, this was something else. None of the hermetically sealed journeys you get on the Eurostar trains, this was full on Italy. For a start, it was a compartment train. All thrown in together there wasn't the anonymity you get from airline style seating. I shared my capsule with 3 Sicilian matriarchs - and while we couldn't speak each other's languages particularly well, we didn't let that get in the way, and they kept me entertained, protected and looked after the whole journey. While our language skills weren't good enough to hold down a conversation, they were good enough for the Sicilian Mamas to tell me I was staying in the wrong place (Taormina instead of Catania) and that my crochet style left a lot to be desired!

And finally, there was the experience I've been waiting for ever since i started researching this holiday - the whole train on a boat thing. We arrived at the end of Italy, they split the train, shunted it on to the ferry, the ferry set sail and there we were - on a train on a boat on the Mediterranean. How much better could it get...?

And then we arrived in Sicily - and food, warmth and Limoncello.

Sweet dreams. I'm certain to have them!

Quattrocento

Or for the non Italian speaking amongst us (including me!), my 400th post.

What better way to celebrate than a night (and a day) out in Rome to blog about. But before you get too excited, it's nothing more interesting than my day's adventures, rounded off with my abortive trip to a fancy Roman restaurant...

So it's been another busy day of sightseeing, photograph taking and walking. I was well warned before coming to the Infernal city, that Rome is hard on your feet. And they weren't kidding! Even though I took the Metro and the tour bus today, my feet were still several sizes larger by the end of the day.

And in case you're wondering, today I've mostly been visiting St Peter's Basillica and Square, the Palatine Hill, the Forum and Piazza Navona - with a side visit to Piazza di Campidolgio thrown in for good measure. I didn't, however, make it to the Vatican Museum or the Sistine Chapel - the queues were just too long. Did I mention how many tourists there are in Rome???

The weather also conspired against me. I spent yesterday suffering from the wind - not the gluten induced variety, but a cold wind off the Steppes (Grabonia!) kind. I was beginning to wonder if I'd packed the wrong mix of clothes, but then today - as I was layered up for a repeat of yesterday's mighty wind - it turned warm again, and I spent the day sweltering.

So when in Rome, I did what the Roman's do - bought an ice cream and a bottle of water and retired to a caffe to watch the world go by.

This evening I resolved to go to a fancy restaurant recommended by my good friend, Deborah - of the comparative hospitality and mustard jar cocktail shaker fame - but unfortunately it kept rather later opening hours than I do, so I opted for a different, more toursity offering nearby instead. It was rather good, but what was more entertaining was the antics of yet another Italian waiter, concerned that I was on my own. Tonight I scored a free glass of Prosecco and 2 free glasses of Limoncello. I think I'm in love...!

[More photos uploaded to Flickr]

The Infernal City

Well, I've spent my first full day in Rome, and do you know what? I'm not sure if I like it or not.

For a start, there's traffic everywhere. Which means noise - and danger when you're still not used to which way to look when crossing the road. And for another thing, there are crowds - not your average busy city crowds, but tons and tons of tourists crowds. I'm not sure I've ever been anywhere (apart from Edinburgh at the height of the Festiva, and I hate that!) that has been filled with quite so many tourists. Which means more noise. And more danger - both the walking into the back of someone who stops suddenly to take a photograph kind of danger, and the fear of pickpockets kind of danger. No wonder Rome has such a reputation for them, to be honest, the pickings are very easy!

Having said all that, the city itself is amazing - a very strange mixture of ancient ruins that pop up all over the place alongside the ultra modern, and quaint side streets and the usual European medieval city scape. The buildings are often stunningly beautiful. They're often gaudy and ostentatious too, but that's Renaissance and Baroque style for you. There are little glimpses of half seen views all over the place if you look carefully (and take your eyes off your guidebook or out of your viewfinder long enough).

And there are fountains. Lots of fountains. Apparently Bernini or someone commented on them at one point - and then promptly went off and sculpted some more. There are men, fish, sea gods, turtles, women, nymphs - you name it, Rome's got it. There's even a soup tureen!!

But seriously, it is a fascinating city. Perhaps a little too busy for my tastes, but definitely worth a visit. I didn't, however, throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain - not that sure I want to come back.

Tomorrow is St Peter's and a chance to add a new country to my See the World list. But for now, it's time to finish uploading my day's photos, finish this blog post and head out for something to eat. I spotted what looks like a nice little trattoria just round the corner - think I'll check it out. At least it's not far to walk for my little, tired feet...

[Full set of photos uploaded now to my Flickr site]
[New restaurant recommended for tomorrow night. Thanks, Deborah]

 

Mamma mia!

WARNING: Today's post has been written in several instalments - non sequitors obligatory.

Part One

Early morning train journey, whipping through the misty – or is it murky – French countryside. I am on holiday! Already surrounded by words and phrases I half catch but don't understand, the rhythm of the sounds strangely familiar yet completely unknown. I read my Italian phrase book in the hopes that I might start to tune in. It probably isn't help that this is a) a train guard, b) who is French, c) speaking Italian. I have no chance!

Looking outside again, I'm amazed at how quickly the city has given way to countryside. Rolling hills and (fairly) lush green views. Not at all like Spain last summer, where ochre and brown were the colours of the season. I'm sure as I move into and down through Italy it will change, but for now it is a familiar view.

There is no WiFi on the train. I can't believe it. Something we're more advanced in than the Europeans!! It means I have to compose this post offline and upload later. But what it also means is that I won't be hooked to my virtual world, missing the wonders of the real world around me. An article I read yesterday warned of the dangers of social network addiction – the constant need to 'check your status' and report your every move. While I don't think I'm necessarily too guilty of the latter, I fear I am a complete victim to the former. Holidays away from my mobile phone network are definitely good for me, even if I do feel like I'm going 'cold turkey' for the first couple of days. It is no coincidence that I checked all hotels for in room WiFi before booking.

But for now, I have 7 hours on this train ahead of me. Hopefully a beautiful journey through the Alps to marvel at and nothing to distract me except my books, my music and my crochet. How strange to be taking life at a slower pace whilst simultaneously hurtling through the countryside at high speed in a TGV. 

Part Two

The journey took me through some fabulous countryside - very picturesque but not particularly photogenic, so no photos I'm afraid. I'm not entirely sure of the route but I think it went diagonally across France entering Italy around the Milky Way ski resort area - not passing through Switzerland as I've been telling everyone for weeks - oops. I do know we went through Aix Les Bains, Chambery and Bardonecchia, past some very impressive limestone crags, some already snow dusted mountains and along the edge of a couple of vertiginous valleys. 

During the 11 hours of travelling today, I had time to think about whether or not the length of the journey is worth it for the experience. On the minus side, it does take a long time and it costs far more than the budget airlines. But on the plus side, it's way more interesting, you get to see some beautiful scenery, and you have time to acclimatise without being thrust all unprepared into your destination. Plus there's the beauty of doing the border control while you're travelling. None of this waiting in line palaver. Passport control comes right to your seat - luxury! 

You also get to see stupendous stations like the one at Milan (pictured above). As Douglas Adams said, It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the phrase, "as pretty as an airport." The same most definitely cannot be said of the railway station. Such was the arrogance of the early railway pioneers that there are many fine examples of overblown grandeur gracing the world's transport hubs, none more so than in Italy!

Having said that about the fantastic scenery, I must confess that much of the journey from Milan to Rome today seemed to be underground.  Now I understand why the European high speed rail services work - they simply built new lines for them, and blasted them underneath cities and through hills. It doesn't make for the most exciting rail journeys, but they sure are quick! 

But when we emerged, blinking into the sunshine (yes, sunshine. It does still exist!) the views were so jaw droppingly stunning that I forgave the modern day rail engineers instantly. We had entered a world of sun drenched hills with grape and olive lined terraces, sandy dust roads and lollipop trees. All Gladiator - the film that is, not the TV series that had steroid fueled muscle men - and sad to say, women - hit each other with giant cotton buds in the name of entertainment.

And then we arrived in Rome...

Part Three

And hot and sticky it was too. Well, hotter and stickier than I'm used to at any rate - which is anything above freezing this year, to be honest. As a result, the first washing of the holiday was required to 'freshen up' my travelling clothes. Clearly my Scandinavian roots don't do well in the Mediterranean climate.

But what of Rome? The hotel is a little more monastic than I was expecting (I wonder if there's a Trade Descriptions Act in Italy?) but perfectly comfortable and adequate for my purposes. I don't really intend to spend much time lounging about in it anyway. My fevered guide book marking on the journey here has identified more than enough to fill my two and a half days stay. 

My walk to the hotel was a great introduction to the city - traffic everywhere, people promenading and preening, shops displaying their designer wares. And the buildings, oh the buildings are amazing. I can't wait for the morning when I can go explore!

But my real Rome experience, the one that makes me laugh out loud, happened over dinner. Having eaten pretty much on the hoof for the last 36 hours, I decided to go out for dinner even though I'd just arrived and was pretty tired. And in so doing, I discovered that the cliche about Italian waiters really is true - having been in the eternal city for less than 2 hours, I have already been flirted with, smuggled extra drinks and free desserts and invited out on a date tomorrow night!! 

I'd be flattered but I know it's all just part of the game in a tourist city. But, on balance, I think I came out ahead on the deal - extra food, a cheaper than expected bill and a free breakfast to have in my room in the morning. Not bad really!

Ciao bella - tune in tomorrow to see if I decide to take up the offer of seeing Rome's nightlife...!