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smokingbootI hadn't wanted to go.
The plan was born of the Parents-In-Law wanting to have us all together for the summer. They were up for sharing some designated house somewhere in Europe, the Australian family as well, ten of us in a villa.When the family had considered many possibilities and settled on Sicily, I felt even more meh. Last century I was involved in a LARP with a background in fantasy Sicily, it did not end well. The dust has long settled and all is fine, but perhaps there lingered the tiniest element of shade based on, not even a feeling, but the memory of a feeling.The reality of the place blew all that nonsense right out of my head.
Catania and the Elephant
We headed in early to Catania, vibrant and generous, closest city to Etna, where I had my first and one of the best meals of the whole trip; a paper cone of freshly fried fish, calamari, shrimp etc with a lemon mayonnaise, and sardine croquettes to die for. This place was just a hole in the wall opposite the fish market. I could have eaten there every day, possibly for the rest of my life. The symbol of the city is an elephant known as U Liotru. An ancient or at least old basalt statue of this elephant stands elevated in the middle of the city. The whole monument was finished in the 18th century but the elephant is easily 12th century, maybe much older, suggestions dating it from Carthage.Legends tell of a necromancer called Heliodorus who brought the stone elephant to life and rode it through town, but most scholars think it was apotropraic, placed to ward off eruptions. It has a kindly droll face.
The Bloody Renault
Our hire car was a Renault equipped with every single safety feature known to man, all turned on. This was particularly entertaining if the car didn't like where you were in your given lane. You had to be in the centre of that lane or the wheel would suddenly veer in the direction of where you should be, and if that sounds disturbing, it certainly was, though not as disturbing as the power just cutting out if you went over the speed limit. This was memorable in its own special way as a) the speed limits change every few yards and b) they are clearly regarded more as guidelines by the average Sicilian driver. While we enjoyed the ochres and golds of the rugged land, the experience of that car was a damn sight more harrowing than Etna.
And speaking of Etna
Its first eruption occurred in the middle of the week, curbing our hike up its sides. But, as recorded elsewhere, this was not the end of Etna's involvment in our holiday.
Palermo and the Leopard
Gorgeous, scruffy, insane! Food markets glorious, sights fantastic including the Palazzo Real and the Capuchin catacombs full of skeletons/mummies (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catacombe_dei_Cappuccini).
But the best bit of our time here was the tour of the Palazzo Conte Federico, conducted by a member of the family still living here.
'People ask if we are Italian,' said our host, spreading his arms out to us, 'do I look Italian?'
He stood there, tall, blonde and blue eyed, and all I could think was you couldn't look more Hohenstaufen without an eagle stapled to your head.
'I am Sicilian,' he said.
In one room were tiles on the floor depicting other noble houses connected by blood/ marriage to the family of Frederick II. My geeky little heart sang in spotting the gattopardo of Lampedusa. I started reading The Leopard a long time ago, but was too young to appreciate it. Now there was new context to play with, as the classic covers Sicilian aristocracy facing Garibaldi's landing, and this had also been an issue for the Federico family. The book has just arrived as a birthday present for me. We start again!
Syracusa/Ortigia and Me
Leaving the family behind, we spent what we thought were our last few days in this city, where, more than anywhere else, old ghosts might have waited. Then I saw the place. Not that I can speak for much more than Ortigia, because I never wanted to leave, even to visit the wider city. For me Ortigia was exquisite, the light bouncing off the cream gold walls seemed to engulf my body, the sun penetrating every cell, every aching bone, every particle of skin and brain and soul and heart. Yes, the whole island was baking hot all holiday, but this quality of light was different. I sat there, not far from the ancient temple to Apollo and the glittering marina,when the Genius Loci arrived right next to me, bright and shining.
'All that fuss,' it said, in gentle mockery, 'all that stuff...and you never even knew I was beautiful.'
Well I know now. And 64 is no bad age to learn.
There was much more. But this is a good place to stop.
The plan was born of the Parents-In-Law wanting to have us all together for the summer. They were up for sharing some designated house somewhere in Europe, the Australian family as well, ten of us in a villa.When the family had considered many possibilities and settled on Sicily, I felt even more meh. Last century I was involved in a LARP with a background in fantasy Sicily, it did not end well. The dust has long settled and all is fine, but perhaps there lingered the tiniest element of shade based on, not even a feeling, but the memory of a feeling.The reality of the place blew all that nonsense right out of my head.
Catania and the Elephant
We headed in early to Catania, vibrant and generous, closest city to Etna, where I had my first and one of the best meals of the whole trip; a paper cone of freshly fried fish, calamari, shrimp etc with a lemon mayonnaise, and sardine croquettes to die for. This place was just a hole in the wall opposite the fish market. I could have eaten there every day, possibly for the rest of my life. The symbol of the city is an elephant known as U Liotru. An ancient or at least old basalt statue of this elephant stands elevated in the middle of the city. The whole monument was finished in the 18th century but the elephant is easily 12th century, maybe much older, suggestions dating it from Carthage.Legends tell of a necromancer called Heliodorus who brought the stone elephant to life and rode it through town, but most scholars think it was apotropraic, placed to ward off eruptions. It has a kindly droll face.
The Bloody Renault
Our hire car was a Renault equipped with every single safety feature known to man, all turned on. This was particularly entertaining if the car didn't like where you were in your given lane. You had to be in the centre of that lane or the wheel would suddenly veer in the direction of where you should be, and if that sounds disturbing, it certainly was, though not as disturbing as the power just cutting out if you went over the speed limit. This was memorable in its own special way as a) the speed limits change every few yards and b) they are clearly regarded more as guidelines by the average Sicilian driver. While we enjoyed the ochres and golds of the rugged land, the experience of that car was a damn sight more harrowing than Etna.
And speaking of Etna
Its first eruption occurred in the middle of the week, curbing our hike up its sides. But, as recorded elsewhere, this was not the end of Etna's involvment in our holiday.
Palermo and the Leopard
Gorgeous, scruffy, insane! Food markets glorious, sights fantastic including the Palazzo Real and the Capuchin catacombs full of skeletons/mummies (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catacombe_dei_Cappuccini).
But the best bit of our time here was the tour of the Palazzo Conte Federico, conducted by a member of the family still living here.
'People ask if we are Italian,' said our host, spreading his arms out to us, 'do I look Italian?'
He stood there, tall, blonde and blue eyed, and all I could think was you couldn't look more Hohenstaufen without an eagle stapled to your head.
'I am Sicilian,' he said.
In one room were tiles on the floor depicting other noble houses connected by blood/ marriage to the family of Frederick II. My geeky little heart sang in spotting the gattopardo of Lampedusa. I started reading The Leopard a long time ago, but was too young to appreciate it. Now there was new context to play with, as the classic covers Sicilian aristocracy facing Garibaldi's landing, and this had also been an issue for the Federico family. The book has just arrived as a birthday present for me. We start again!
Syracusa/Ortigia and Me
Leaving the family behind, we spent what we thought were our last few days in this city, where, more than anywhere else, old ghosts might have waited. Then I saw the place. Not that I can speak for much more than Ortigia, because I never wanted to leave, even to visit the wider city. For me Ortigia was exquisite, the light bouncing off the cream gold walls seemed to engulf my body, the sun penetrating every cell, every aching bone, every particle of skin and brain and soul and heart. Yes, the whole island was baking hot all holiday, but this quality of light was different. I sat there, not far from the ancient temple to Apollo and the glittering marina,when the Genius Loci arrived right next to me, bright and shining.
'All that fuss,' it said, in gentle mockery, 'all that stuff...and you never even knew I was beautiful.'
Well I know now. And 64 is no bad age to learn.
There was much more. But this is a good place to stop.
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no subject
Date: 2026-07-14 12:27 pm (UTC)The apartment was extraordinary. Overlooking the sea, atop an ancient wall that was so many meters thick that it now supports the most wonderful garden. I can deluge you with photographs if you're at all interested. 😀
I do love Sicily!
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Date: 2026-07-14 12:41 pm (UTC)Sicily is an extraordinary place, I am desperate to go back.
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Date: 2026-07-14 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-07-14 01:58 pm (UTC)