Bella Sicilia
It's hot, the motorbikes whoosh past carrying toddlers, the traffic is thick, there's lots of hand waving, horn honking and pasta eating, the fish market is totally wild, never seen such a large sword fish, with a round staring eye, cut in half.
Palermo's streets are narrow and crossing the road is an act of courage, blind faith in the hand of God and simple hope that the driver will value not going to prison for killing a tourist.
Catania is under the bubbling gaze of Etna, I walked in black sand, burned under the hot sun, met some great people and ate good tuna steak like none before, all tender and covered in caramelised tomatoes.
The talk of the mafia is odd, a movement I know only from film and TV series, but that's present here, and one that makes life difficult for so many ordinary people. Tomorrow off to Syracuse and down the coast in search of the non-beaten track. Will post from there and have more details.
Until then, saluti.
Palermo's streets are narrow and crossing the road is an act of courage, blind faith in the hand of God and simple hope that the driver will value not going to prison for killing a tourist.
Catania is under the bubbling gaze of Etna, I walked in black sand, burned under the hot sun, met some great people and ate good tuna steak like none before, all tender and covered in caramelised tomatoes.
The talk of the mafia is odd, a movement I know only from film and TV series, but that's present here, and one that makes life difficult for so many ordinary people. Tomorrow off to Syracuse and down the coast in search of the non-beaten track. Will post from there and have more details.
Until then, saluti.
posted by Vesna at 2:53 PM
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