Andiamo a Sicilia

Greetings:

When we last left our heroes they were returning from a fine sojourn in Northern Ireland. We finally had to bid fond farewell to Noreen and Peadar and their wonderful home in Black Rock.




Noreen has set quite the culinary standard. Upon return from the Giant’s Causeway we were treated to a pasta with shrimp, smoked salmon, mushrooms and a pesto cream sauce. Salmon in Ireland is highly recommended. Our last night was a pork roast with roasted potatoes and vegetables. Needless to say Jameson’s was the appropriate nightcap each evening.

Before leaving the Emerald Isle, we would like to show what a well-dressed charwoman in Ireland would look like:











So on to Sicily.

We will not quite describe the experience as the journey through hell or even purgatory but Dante knows what we’re talkin’ about. It all seemed so wonderful…at first… We had to travel in two segments. First to Milano, via Paris, a night’s stay and then to Catania, Sicily via Roma.

Each time I surrender my luggage instead of carrying it on board I keep thinking of the Henny Youngman anecdote: A man goes to the airport with three pieces of luggage. He goes to check them and says “I would like this one to go to Cleveland, this one to Detroit and this one to Chicago”. He was met with the response: “I am sorry sir but we can’t do that.”. Whereupon his reply was: “Why not? You did it last week!”.

Upon successfully arriving in Milano, with our luggage, we were a bit anxious as to how to get to our hotel (being too cheap to cough up the $100 for a taxi into the city center). We did find a nice train to make the forty minute trip and upon arriving decided it was time for a cab since it was already 8:30 at night. The Rafaello is a four star hotel:



Our room was small but comfortable and we were directed to the Oasi pizzeria. We decided to have some bruschetta and a dish for two that had seafood and spaghetti baked in a casserole with a “lid” of pastry. It was ceremoniously served and accompanied with a liter of the house wine. Complimentary limoncello followed. Life seemed good.

The next morning began at 6 AM as we prepared to get to the airport for seven. Our taxi arrived as per our request the night before. However, contrary to our conversation the night before, the fare was 5-10 Euro more … because of the early hour…hmmm. This was a bit of an omen. We said farewell to our luggage and stopped over in Roma. Little did we know that Air France was in heavy negotiations with Alitalia much to the agitazione of the Alitalia employees. Their response was to go on strike halfway during the loading of our flight to Catania. We did not realize this until we had waited for more than an hour for our bags.

Unhappily we then went to pick up our rental car. Foolishly we had decided to bring internet directions to our apartment in Catania. Somehow the internet does not understand the centuries old development of Sicilian towns and the ladders of signs simultaneously indicating the 18 destinations you could pursue had you the time to read them since one must travel at a minimum of 30 mph through the narrow, winding roads or suffer highway excommunication. (Adding to the ambiance: as I am writing this the power has gone out in our Eden-like (they had no electricity either) existence).

Eventually we found Torre Archirafi, just outside Riposto but could not find the aprtment. Chris had managed to purchase a Telecom phone card that you insert into a pay phone once you figured out that you had to tear off a triangular piece on the corner of the card. So we called Fabrizio Rompineve and let him know that we were in town. We had previously called him from the airport to let him know about the luggage. (“Did you fly AlItalia? Yes, that happened to our last guests also”).

By the way, it was raining and pretty windy along the breakwater here in town. So we finally met our hosts. Grazia and Aldo Rompineve actually own the apartment but their son Fabrizio knows the best English.

A brief pause for what had drawn us to Torre Archirafi:

(sorry I have yet to figure out how to post a powerpoint presentation)



We learned about the apartment and then worked on a strategy for the luggage realizing that in some other world it would be delivered to our door. We found a local restaurant that was open on a Sunday in January (think Truro on the Cape). Sicilian antipasto was good. There was stuffed zucchini, green olives, incredible stuffed radicchio, unbelievable sundried tomatoes, salami and pepperoni. The pizze had sausage, eggplant, mushroom and tuna. Not too shabby – except that the whole time we were eating the rain was pummeling the roof, the wind was mad and the surf big and relentless. It made for a cozy walk home.

At 10:30 the next morning we broached consciousness. Aldo soon arrived with the news that one, count ‘em, one of our bags had arrived in Catania. We then formulated another plan to call Aldo to find out if our other bag had arrived and whether we would wait for its delivery or head for Catania and pick them up ourselves.

Now you might think an iPhone would be helpful at this point. In one of their few differences of opinion in their thirty-six year relationship it was decided because of the lack of service in the Bristol area because of the exclusive service provider and the mandatory two year contract that the iPhone purchase would be deferred. Unicel, our current cell provider did not offer European service nor could they recommend a particular SIM card that would reliably work. Chris had been trying to call his Dad every few days. We had been spoiled by an Irish phone card’s low cost, use of Peadar’s phone and easy internet access to the house. In Sicily, so far, we are not able to be contacted directly in any fashion.

So we bravely headed for the Riposto/Giarre area but, due to our late rising, were met with the one to four daily lunch hour with nothing open. We called Aldo from Giarre and found he had not heard further from the airport. We told him, in our rudimentary Italian, that we would head for the airport and pick up the one bag and discover any more information if we could.

We found the airport and behold! Gini emerged from the airport with both bags! Bless her persistent, clever soul.

We celebrated by shopping at Auchan’s, a one stop store the size of three or four football fields that had clothing, hardware, sports equipment, electronics and groceries in mass quantities. After much discussion we gave up on purchasing an Italian mobile phone or an Italian SIM card in lieu of an international calling card that would have me out on the streets of Torre Archrafi at midnight under a street lamp using a pay phone.

Grocery shopping was very successful, give or take some anxious moments in produce where you have to bag, weigh and price everything yourself. We were somewhat familiar with this process from previous visits but sale items were tricky. The ride home in the dark was adventurous, especially along the sea wall where the non-stop wind and rain had become a bit furious.







A bottle of Spumante and half a bottle of red later we had feasted on fresh caprese and tapinade crostini along with fresh swordfish and penne pasta in tomato sauce. This was followed by the mandatory Italian wafer cookies and espresso. Having our luggage made bed feel all that much better.

Awakening to the usual torrent of wind and crashing of surf, we had a basic breakfast of cereal, bananas, Sicilian almonds and local marmalade on toast with our fresh squeezed juice from blood oranges and coffee. Grabbing our ubiquitous umbrellas (always hoping to not recreate Mary Poppins) we found a local vegetable store and headed for cappuccino down by the water. From the time we had entered the market until we emerged, Archirafi had transformed into pre-Oz Kansas. The light was dim and the sea had turned yellow. Even the locals were lined up at the breakwater marveling at the ten foot plus waves.








A local butcher informed us that this was not actually normal but there was a history of water bashing the town at various times. In fact, one hundred years ago in his very building a woman and her daughter were killed in the onrushing water from the sea. Yikes!



(Rain and wind had me shaking a bit)

The power has since come back on and we have had a lunch of fresh bread, lettuce, tomatoes, salami, mortadella, prosciutto and emmenthal cheese; a beer for Chris and white wine for Gini. We now ready ourselves for another trip to Riposto and Giarre to find an internet point. May the force be with us.