27 April: Campground at Catania – Camping Jonio
Supermarket at Agrigento shut until 8.30 so unfortunately we were obliged to have croissants for breakfast. You could say it was a selection of croissants but we seemed to have eaten all available forms. We fed a piece of croissant to a thin starving pregnant campground cat, and then felt so sorry for her we gave her half our cheese.
The most direct route to the station was very steep, busy with cars and buses, and narrow, so Phil found a (much)longer route on a freeway-like road. After toiling up and up, it initially took us right beside the railway line, but then dropped us down through a maze of narrow streets, with Phil trying madly to stay on the right side of the road while deciphering a confused GPS with time running out. Finally, we got to Agrigento station with 15 mins to spare after Heather got the tickets. We were lucky though - there was a lift, the train was a nice modern one with a good bike area of flip-up seats, the nearby toilet was clean, and we settled into comfortable elevated seats in a horseshoe which gave us a good view of the countryside once we were clear of suburbia.
It sped past with no need to pedal. Wonderful really. We went by Enna, winding through some pretty countryside and quite a few tunnels, until we pulled into Catania nearly four hours later. We saw Etna from the train, its top shrouded by cloud. We spent a lot of this time studying the planet and working out options for seeing Etna and the rest of Sicily. The more we read about it, the more we wanted to see.
Catania wasn't inspiring from the station, but when we got to the Piazza del Duomo we fell in love with its magnifico baroque cathedral and the whole place. We were after money, but had been having trouble with the ATMs which kept on saying our cards were not authorised. We pedalled off from the piazza to try our luck at a different one, but it didn't like us either. The security guard in a bullet-proof vest saw our disappointed faces though, and came over, took the card and led us through the whole transaction in Italian. (The Italian version included a critical step which the English one missed out.)
Drinks and Sicilian cakes in the piazza came next – we were flush with cash weren't we – and then the four of us did some very delighted rolling around on our loaded beech-i-klettas. The streets and architecture were gorgeous and the drivers very tolerant. Even the mounted police weren't worried about us riding the wrong way up the one-way street they were coming down. There aren't many lights, but cars give way, particularly quickly it seems, if the lead person on a bike is a girl!
We bought veggies for dinner from a lovely seller, who had eggplant and zucchini, and1kg bags of carrots all lined up. We explained we just wanted a few, so he took one carrot from each bag, and then was going to give them to us.
With food for dinner, we zoomed along with the peak-hour traffic doing a 'beach-road 'ride past a little harbour with houses mounded up above it, and into pretty, prosperous-looking suburbs to the campground.
We had had conflicting reports about tomorrow's weather, but weather underground said it would rain from 11am tomorrow, so we decided to take the train down to Syracuse and hope for a clear day to see Etna on our way back.
28 April Syracuse – B&B Artemide
The train to Syracuse didn't leave until 12.43, so we had time for a sleep-in and some more exploring of beautiful Catania. We knew we had to take the bikes up and down a flight of steps at the station, but the train was an older, smaller one. The bikes had to be lifted sky high into the front luggage compartment, which was so small that we had to take everything off them. When it stopped at Syracuse we had a mass of bags to be got off the train as well as the bikes. Luckily I put all of ours by the door just before it stopped, because it arrived late, and the people waiting just pushed their way on while we were trying to get off! Also, they couldn't get the bikes off the platform side, so we had a team of three people lifting them into the tracks and then up to us. Phew!!
Syracuse though, was splendid from the start. The B&Bs Heather rang were full, so we came to Ortygia, the island part of it, and started looking for somewhere to stay. Eventually Phil noticed this one, on the first floor of a medieval building set around a veranda courtyard. The rooms are large and very clean, but daylight only comes from our doorway. Our host, Mary, couldn't be more helpful. We're allowed to use her washing machine tomorrow. We gave a koala to her 5 year old, who was delighted with it.
None of the hotels or B&Bs provide facilities for making hot drinks in the rooms, so once we were more or less organised we went off for a tea and coffee in Piazza Archimede and a walk around. The Syracusans were also doing their evening walk around with small boys playing soccer by the wall of the Duomo of Santa Lucia, which incorporated the columns of the Temple of Minerva. The dogs continue to be immaculately behaved.
We had a pre-dinner drink at a flash little bar in San Rocca and wobbled back to the B&B to set off for dinner. After not finding, or rejecting a few restaurants we found ourselves at what turned out to be a brand new restaurant which looked stylish and had remarkably bright lights.
Looks are not everything.
The smartly dressed young waitress recommended something called coupe andalus (presumably referring to Andalusia as in Spain) – pineapple with seafood, and the fresh fish to share between two. We asked what the fish cost. They produced 2 fish, some scales and weighed the fish..Gail, with a more discerning eye than me observed that the fish was a tad small to share, and asked whether the fish came with vegetables. The waitress said, yes, vegetables.
Leon ordered the coupe and risotto. Heather ordered prosciutto and risotto. We ordered a vegetarian plate to share followed by the larger of the fish.
This was the sequence (at various and apparently random intervals):
1.We ordered red wine. The waitress looked appalled and said we must have white wine with fish. We ordered a half litre. Then I saw her preparing to open a bottle, said no, no, then we had a long discussion about whether it was possible to buy a glass and how much it would be. Management was consulted, and after careful consideration we were told we could have a glass for 3E. I ordered a glass. Everybody else stuck with water.
2.The wine arrived and was OK.
3.Our vegetable plate arrived and was OK. We ate it while H and L looked on.
4.The waitress told heather that the prosciutto was finished and would she like to order something else, but never came back. Eventually, Heather summoned her and ordered the vegetable plate.
5.The risottos arrived and were declared good. We watched while H and L ate them.
6.Leon's coupe arrived and was a half pineapple with some shrimp, but mainly pineapple. We all watched while he ate it.
7.After considerable time, a cooked fish appeared which the waitress filleted at another table then served. It tasted nice but was about the size of goldfish. At least the lights were bright enough for us to find it on the plate. It was accompanied by a small amount of cooked tomato and a leaf of some kind.
8.Heather's vegetable plate arrived and was OK. We watched her eat it.
9.Another half pineapple (unordered) arrived for Heather. The waitress said proudly that the pineapple was fresh and the coupe Andalus was a Sicilian specialty. Heather asked whether the pineapple was from Sicily ( not having seen that many pineapple farms in our travels). The waitress said with some surprise that of course the pineapple was not grown in Sicily. It came from Tunisia. We all watched her eat the Tunisian Spanish Sicilian specialty.
10.We were not game to order dessert.
11.The bill came. It included a non-existent bottle of wine, did not include the risottos, but did include 2 half pineapples. The arithmetic was correct. There was no charge for the entertainment. The waitress did not seem to be from Barcelona. We did not query the bill, which favoured us, paid it, vamoosed ASAP and went back to the B&B - for a cup of tea and bread and jam, there being no bananas left.
29 April Syracuse – B&B Artemide
We put almost all the clothes we possessed in the machine and then went to breakfast in the Piazza Archimede. We had a delicious cheese and spinach pastry, and a sumptuous custard pastry with tea/cappuccino. We toddled back to the washing and hung it out under a clear blue sky, then sat in a little square around the corner and phoned Aisha to wish her a happy birthday, and also talked to Nafisa and Fartun.
We pedalled off to the museum on fleet unloaded bikes, dressed for the sunny weather in skirt and fine top/ tee shirt and knicks. (Phil's only trousers were in the machine.) On the way we passed a man selling bread from the back of a little panel van, and bought a loaf, then passed an alimentari on wheels and stopped for cheese, artichokes and caponato. Equipped with lunch, we had a picnic on the grass outside a church, slicing up the cheese and tearing hunks off the bread. Thus fortified we went to the museum, which had a huge, comprehensive collection. It was a bit exhausting though – two museums in a couple of days, and there was nothing in it that really grabbed us except a little frieze carving of a lion attacking a bull.
We needed a coffee/hot choc to revive ourselves, and it was then that the sky darkened ominously and it started to spit. We figured we were too far away from the washing to save it, so hoped Leon or Heather were home and dived into the catacombs just a a mighty thunderstorm and deluge began. Phil chivalrously (shiveringly?) gave me his warm top because the catacombs being underground were dry but freezing. Our ticket included a guide, and we found them really interesting. 10,000 people used to be buried in its 10,000 sq metres. In WW2 they were used as a bomb shelter. It was pretty eerie to imagine people bedding down in those thousands of coffin spaces. We emerged to only fine drizzle so tried to see the Greek theatre, but the road was partly flooded and cars were sending a huge wash which drenched the footpath as well, so we gave up and raced safely for home through traffic indulgent of freezing foreigners on bicis.
Our washing had been mostly saved by Leon, but Phil's only trousers were still too damp to wear. He had a hot shower and dived into bed while I rolled them in a towel and then used the hairdryer to get them dry, as a thank you for him lending me his top.
This time we managed to find a restaurant recommended in the Planet for its cous cous/seafood. It had everything last night's restaurant lacked: delicious food (couscous and seafood risotto), hearty quantities, and cheerful, efficient service. We walked home alone the sea-front with a huge full moon hanging low over the sea.
30 April Syracuse – B&B Artemide
The plan for today was to go to the amphitheatre, see the coin collection at the Museo and then potter about Siracusa. In fact, we went to Noto. Tomorrow is 1 May – Labour Day in Italy, and a public holiday. With reduced timetables it was not going to be practical to go to Noto then try to get back to Catania tomorrow.
After breakfast, we looked up the Noto bus timetable in the B & B and set off to the bus station, expecting to miss the 11.30. As there was no 11.30 we did not miss it, but instead caught the 12.00 pm which was not on our timetable.
The ride was not exciting except for admiring the skill and patience of the driver in negotiating the narrow streets and busy traffic. I doubt that he got closer than, say, 15mm to buildings, cars, trucks etc.
There were some schoolboys at the bus stop playing a game of bluff which involved whacking each other's hands with varying and unpredictable blows. If you winced/pulled away etc you were out.
On the bus, Gail chatted to them in a mixture of her Italian and their English, learnt at school. They all lived in Avola, and left at 7am to go to school (8am – 2pm) in Siracusa, getting home about 3.15 for lunch. They were amiable, courteous and interested.
Noto was not disappointing, but also lacked a wow factor. Lots of baroque churches and palazzi, whose architecture was mimicked by the smaller houses (e.g. Juliet balconies about 25m off the ground). The most entertaining place was one of the princely palazzi. This noble family was in fact a dynasty of successful tuna fishermen who purchased their title and displayed their wealth by the huge, ostentatious palazzo, with imported materials and beautiful wallpaper and furniture which they changed over every 15 years. Plus ca change. The walls were largely plain in form, but painted /wallpapered to give the illusion of cornices and panels, and extra windows and looped curtains etc. The floors were all tiled with different geometric patterns and colours for each room. The large ballroom was oddly lovely, the rest completely over the top.
After tea, coffee and (surprise) a cannoli, we caught the bus back to Siracusa, went food shopping and bought train tickets for Catania tomorrow – the only bike friendly train is at 8.45, so no amphitheatre.
We walked back through the main shopping street of Ortygia then had dinner at the Medusa again, at the invitation of Heather and Leon to thank us for the last month. As they said, we are travelling separately after Sicily, and may not be near a decent restaurant before we leave. The meal was terrific. Gail had the zuppa di pesce and I had mixed grilled fish. A trawlerful appeared on each of our plates, beautifully cooked. Asked if we wanted dessert, we said no more, no more, but he was surprised we didn't want a lemon sorbet , so we ordered one with 4 spoons. It was sensational. Waddled home to bed after that.
1 May Taormina Camping ground
Mayday in Italy is the Festa di lavoro, so almost nobody works. We were up early to catch the 8.49 to Catania, which turned into the 8.49 to Taormina when we realised that the Circumaetna train (which runs around the base of Mt Etna) did not run on feast days. After a nice breakfast during whuch Gail skyped her mum, we went to the station. The train was easy and pleasant – a modern, roll-on, roll-off train reasonably busy with people going to celebrate the festival in Taormina (as we found out later).
The Taormina station was at sea level. Taormina isn't. We finished up finding campground about 8km out of Taormina, but that was OK. We set up camp, then rode unloaded bikes up to Taormina, which turned out to be a quite pleasant climb. It is a lovely town, with fantastic views over the Ionian Sea to Calabria one way, and to Mt Etna the other way. The beautiful Greek Theatre has particularly wonderful views of Etna, which was clear, though the view down grew milkier as the afternoon wore on. Not that it was all that easy to get to the view because of the people, who were there in their thousands enjoying their holiday. We could barely walk in the main shopping drag. Even when we left at about 6pm, the cable car was disgorging crowds eager to join the mass passegiata and gelati fest.
Taormina is obviously a wealthy place – one cafe wanted $8.00 for a cup of coffee. We ran into Heather and Leon at the top, and had a more modestly priced granita.
We rode down along the splendid, winding Via Luigi Pirandello, past flash houses and a nice old church, then through the unbelievable traffic in the town below (Giardini-Naxos). We managed to get through by riding the wrong way down the one way street system. The drivers continued to be tolerant and, indeed, indulgent.
In Taormina, Heather and Leon said they had decided to go up Etna tomorrow, which will mean catching the 6.49 train to Catania (keeping mind that the station is about 8km from here). After a while, we saw the sense of this suggestion, and bought our tickets on the way back to camp.
Easy dinner of packaged soup based couscous then an attempt at early to bed which , as usual, failed dismally as we went to sleep at about 11 to the sound of fireworks and partying.
2 May
The alarm went off at 5am as planned. However, the plan to get up to Etna nearly suffered a fatal blow when H and L left a bit before us only to find that the campground was locked. The wrought iron gates were about 8 feet high. Ever intrepid, not to say determined, Leon climbed to the outside of the gate, grabbed their bikes (pannier free) as Heather handed them up to him, and got them up and over. He and Phil did the same with ours, and we still arrived at the station in plenty of time for the 6.49 train. The 6.49 train did not reciprocate. The next train gave us only 5 mins to catch the bus at Catania. It didn't arrive either. We thought we'd have to give up and do it tomorrow, but Leon went to enquire how much a taxi would cost to take us to the start of the funicular. It was expensive but not prohibitively so, so off we went in a rather nice Mercedes taxi with a friendly driver, Nunzio, who had a bit of English.
On the way up he pointed out where lava had flowed in the past, and showed us where it had stopped just above a village of few years ago.
At the top of the funicular we 'took a jeep' – a medium-sized 4WD bus, which took us to 2,900m, where we looked up at the main crater puffing out plumes of steam, partly covered in snow with yellow-green mineral colours amidst the black lava. It was splendid, alien, formidable. The entire landscape around us was black and white. We crunched our way over 'corn' snow to the south crater and made our way up and round its edge. We'd deliberately taken everything warm we had, but in fact the scree was warm beneath our feet, there were wafts of warm air, and the crater and fissures in the ground gave off steam. We had as long as we liked to walk and look and take heaps of photos. When we'd finally had our fill we went back down to the funicular, and ate our picnic lunch of bread and bananas on a deck outside. Etna is a ski resort as well. Suddenly a skier appeared from above He was carrying his skis, and had an Alsatian clipped to his waist. As he clicked into his skis the dog danced in anticipation. Finally he was ready, unclipped his dog, gave the signal, and the he and the Alsatian disappeared over the edge. All the way down the funicular, we saw curving stem christie ski tracks interweaving with paw prints which went straight down the slope. At the bottom we saw our man packing up his skis, with his large furry friend happily ensconced in the back of his 4WD. We stopped to say we had seen him and his dog. Yes he said, she loves the snow and skiing.
We found our driver, who drove his sleep-deprived crew back to Taormina station and we rode home well pleased with our excursion.
We decided we'd go to Enna tomorrow to start our 2 day ride. This necessitated getting up at the crack of dawn again.
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