We only scheduled about 24 hours in Palermo for this trip, and we are both thinking that will be plenty.
The heat has us recalling our trip to Morocco in 2009, and Palermo strikes me as similar to Fez, a old, even ancient, city that is self-assured in its importance. You can see the layers of different civilizations that have swept through, leaving their mark but not budging the whole.
We’re both eager to be back on the road and away from the heat and crowds.
We experienced another sunny, beautiful day in northern Sicily today, cruising the coast from Capo d’Orlando to beyond Tindari.
After stopping for a few hours to swim in the sea, we took in the Greek ruins at Tindari, a mountain-top fortress that held out against the Romans for two years. Tindari’s defeat signaled the real shift in power in Sicily from the Greeks to the Romans, and it is a pretty sizable complex.
Tomorrow, Palermo!
After a day of downtime in Catania, I met back up with Kath, and we headed toward Cefalu, in the north coast of Sicily, at noon. We took the autostrada about half of the way, then turned off toward the Madonie Mountains, promptly running into a road closed by a rock slide. This led to an exciting adventure on something better described as a path than a road for several hours, as we threaded our way between peaks, eventually finding the road and Castelbueno, where we met a friendly group of guys running an “American Bar” (they were born in the USA but moved to Sicily while kids) that were preparing to celebrate US Independence Day on July 6th. (“The Sicilians don’t know what day it is, and a Friday night means more students will come.”)
Yesterday, we explored the coast east of Cefalu, including the ruins at Halaesa, the modern artwork around the town of Pettineo, the wonderful town of Santo Stefano di Camastra. We really took some time to chill and relax in Santo Stefano, listening to the old men chat in the piazza and trying to spy the most beautiful tile work.
The place we are staying is about 300 meters up, right on the coast, with a gorgeous view of La Rocca jutting into the Tyrrhenian Sea.
I woke with dreams of summiting Etna and walking the rim of one of the main craters, but the reality of my blistered feet kept me from lacing up my boots too quickly. I decided to push on but only go as far as I was enjoying myself. Plus, I really didn’t have a solid plan about how I was going to get back to Catania, and I had no idea how far I would need to walk to make that happen.
Against my initial plans, I took the cable car up about 500 meters, as there was no way I would be able to climb that section with my blisters. However, I turned down the option of the mega-jeep bus thing that takes you right up close to the volcano rim. I wanted to at least attempt that under my own power.
I had heard that you may not be allowed to walk up or around on the mountain without a guide. As it turns out, that is simply not true. You can go wherever you like up there, and no one even asks you where you are headed. It makes sense; Etna is too big for that level of control.
A few hundred meters from the top, I hit the limit of what I could do and still have a good chance to get off the mountain under my own power. I found a nearby smaller crater and poured the small bottle of seawater that I brought from Catania. It disappeared immediately into the little rocks beneath my feet.
Due to where my blisters were located, I found that I could walk downhill without the same level of pain. I aimed for a town on the east side of the mountain, Zafferena Etnea. Wanting to see as much between here and there, I attempted to find a winter ski run that would serve as a ridgeline trail, eventually connecting with the road to Zaff.
Well, I found the trail for a while, but it eventually gave out, leaving me the option of going back up (no way) or making my own way through the rocks and scrub. I quickly found the road that I was looking for below me, but then clouds rolled in, limiting my view to perhaps 50 feet, and I lost sight of it. I kept going by dead reckoning until I found it again. Approaching the road was the most dangerous part – the ground was steep and covered with large, irregular rocks, holes, and thick foliage. Somehow, I made it down without falling or breaking an ankle.
The road down to Zaff was more scenic than the road up to Rifugio Sapienza, and it helped take my pain off of my blisters. I covered the 8 miles in about 3 hours, eager to make sure I had enough time to find a bus back to Catania – there was no way I could make that last 12 miles on foot.
I made it back to Catania later that evening and was able to bandage my feet and even track down a beer or three before all of the shops closed.
While I didn’t make the summit or transverse Etna from south to north, I had a great time, saw some wonderful vistas, and enjoyed the adventure I was craving. The next time I’m in Sicily, though, look out, Etna. I’ve got your number now.
Well, my 24-hour trip to Sicily went smoothly, and 24-hours later, I find myself as the only guest in a hotel at 6000 feet. This is very much the low period for hotels high up on the volcano; I guess I’m just lucky that I got a room at all.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Laura and Katherine picked me up at the Catania airport. Then we went to a place that served very yummy shaved ice you eat with a spoon and a piece of bread.
After dessert, it went Laura’s place (I really needed a shower after 4 different flights) and then met some of the professors from the course. We ate in a fascinating place that has a running underground stream in its basement that dates back several hundred years to the last big eruption. There was a stream there before the eruption, and it survived the lava, though underground. And the food was good. Probably the best gnocchi I’ve ever had.
Today, I left Laura’s apartment and headed up hill, all of way up as far as road would take me: Etna Sud. I’m staying in a great place called Hotel Corsaro. I think I’m the only guest, and this place feels a little bit like The Shining.
Why does this hotel rock, you may ask? Well, after being turned away for dinner at Rifugio Sapienza (“we only serve guests at our hotel at out restaurant.” – crazy bad service – I mean, what part of “rifugio” do they not understand?), the nice guy working the desk opened there closed kitchen to make me a couple of sandwiches. Awesome!
I left Catania at 8 AM to start the long walk through Nicolosi and end up here, in this surreal place. I traveled through lots of tiny towns, a few forests misses by the most recent eruptions, and switchback after switchback, going higher with every step. By the afternoon, I had basically left shade behind, and it was me against the crumbling, black hill.
All of the eruptions I walked through were pretty recent, within the past couple of decades.
I nearly ran out of water before I arrived at the hotel, and that would be a very bad thing, as there are no stores the past 14K or so, and it got steeper and steeper, and hotter and hotter.
Anyway, I made it, and my last shot of the day is the Silvestri crater just next to my hotel.
I hope my blistered feet hold up for tomorrow’s attempt on the summit.
While at the CNI conference in Baltimore today, I escaped the hotel for part of lunch and took a walk down to the harbor and up to the top of Federal Hill. It was a beautiful spring day, everything was in bloom, and the gentle breeze blowing over the hill hinted of salt water.
Speaking of Federal Hill, I stumbled into (and out of) a great pub in that neighborhood. If you are looking for a tasty pizza, outstanding local brew, and interesting conversation, I highly recommend Pub Dog Pizza and Drafthouse.
After a Half-Smoke at Ben’s Chili Bowl and a walk across town through Dupont Circle, I’m enjoying a few pints at the Bier Baron. (Thanks to Frank for the tip!)
It is cordoned off, alone, after the earthquake earlier this year.
The statue is as strange as I’ve heard, and while he does look determined, not mad, the likeness stands in contrast to the many wise quotes by the man, carved into the wall behind him.
The tree on the Mall, with the Washington Monument in the background.
These statues were outside the Indiana Museum on the Canal Walk.
Near downtown Indy, Kath and I strolled down the Canal Walk on a perfect day.
Last picture from the weekend at the Shack-Up Inn.
This graffiti is on the wall of the bathroom of our shack.
I can’t even begin to understand the “hot pepper jelly” reference.
This unusual Hindu? statue was in the corner of our shack at the Shack-Up Inn.
The lawn at the Shack-Up Inn.
This truck is just sitting in the yard at the Shack-Up Inn.
On the stage at the Shack-Up Inn.
There were a few hungover folks in this picture at the Shack-Up, including the photographer.
An antique gas station sign at the Shack-Up Inn.
The sign above the entrance to the bar at the Shack-Up Inn.