Monday, December 31, 2018

capodanno en Catania


Happy new year! I had great plans of joining the celebration downtown at midnight until the freezing rain started....Serves me right for not going to the Southern Hemisphere.

Turnt out I've spent the past 5 Christmases on 5 different continents. Which means next year, I'm either going to Africa or Antarctica. Who wants to come?

Agathe is the patron saint of Catania, having been born, tortured, and martyred here in the 3rd century, all by the age of 20.

Content warning: It's not a pretty story. Skip the next paragraph if you'd rather avoid the gory details.
Agata was a Christian teenager and a virgin and this guy Quintianus wanted to marry her. She said no, so he tortured her. She still said no. He sent her to a brothel where she was raped. She still said no. This time, he cut off her breasts...but St Paul magically healed her. Eventually she died. 

They have a big parade for her in early February and carry her likeness around. Among other things, she's the patron saint of...breast cancer.

Forgive me for wondering what kind of god would demand a young woman be raped and tortured to show her devotion. 
Near the gate is this elephant fountain, made of lava.
 The city is full of elegant statues.
I liked these works from the Diocesan museum. And of course the gems.

And the vestments

Afterward, I stumbled by accident into the fish market. It was small but suitably smelly, with inches of standing water and more circling pigeons than AT&T Park in the 10th inning.
I grabbed a cone of fried shrimp, fish, and anchovies (yum!) and dug in.


On the way back, I ran into the remains of another Roman amphitheater, now mostly below ground. 
This one seated 15,000! The scale of brutality of the Roman empire is hard to fathom.

I even found my own alley.
Hardly anything was open for dinner. Hungry and cranky, at first I thought I was locked in the garden outside my room, but it was just a sticky door. Then I was afraid I would have to eat out of the 24-hour vending machine.

Eventually I found a cozy pizzeria and got a mezzaluna (half moon), stuffed with cheese and ham and mushrooms and topped with arugula and cheese and more ham, and because we're in Sicily, ground pistachios.

The fireworks have started! Wishing you a peaceful, prosperous 2019. With cookies for breakfast and someone to bring you sweet oranges from Sicily.
Remember, it's a fresh start. Anything can happen.



Sunday, December 30, 2018

munchies in Magna Grecia


Archimedes (philosopher, mathematician, physicist, poet) was from Siracusa, then the capitol of Magna Graecia. 

In his honor, I spent a few hours at the archaeological sites a few minute's walk from Andrea's place.

The Greek theater is remarkably preserved (and a little restored). In the late spring and early summer, you can watch performances here.
 Or just hang out on a rock.
Here's the view from center stage. Not too shabby.
Nearby is a formation known as Dionysus' ear. (Do you see it?) It's about 90 feet high. There was a big tour group ahead of me, which was a little annoying. I've been spoiled having Sicily mostly to myself until now.

The acoustics, as you might imagine, are awfully good inside a huge cave. So just as I was starting to scowl about the people, the guide of the German group began to sing:

"Volare! Oh oh oh oh!" And we all joined her.


The same complex includes a Roman amphitheater, built in the 1st century BC. Gladiators fought here until the 4th or 5th century, when fighting was outlawed. After touring the Colosseum and the amphitheater at Pompeii, I rather enjoyed seeing this one overgrown, reclaimed by nature.

On the way back to pick up my luggage, I stopped in for a snack at a local cafe. For breakfast, Andrea served paper-thin sliced mortadella and told me about zuppe Papale: literally Pope soup aka ricotta. He also picked up broccoli and potato impanatas.

You might think this pastry was matcha (it would be in San Francisco) but in Sicily, green means one thing: pistachio. It was awfully good. I got up to pay for the pastry and a cappuccino and asked about this hemp display. CBD is now legal all over Italy. I said I didn't smoke, but in California, we have edibles, and they offered me a slice of cake.
The cake, pastry, and cappuccino, with service, came to 4.40 euros--under $5. In case you think you can't afford to go to Europe.

Next stop: Catania for Capodanna. The bus took a little over an hour, and then I left the grimy bus depot to descend into a brand new, completely empty Metro station. There was a security guard upstairs, but otherwise I was completely alone on the platform for a good 10 minutes. Then a new subway car covered in graffiti went by in the other direction. Flashbacks to NYC in the 80s. Only this wasn't The Warriors.

A couple of happy laughing girls and I got into the sparkling car and went a few stops.
If there's a design theme here, I don't know what it is. For a euro, it's a great deal.

Antonio, my new host, sent instructions on how to get to the B&B from the Metro stop. Finding each new hotel is a puzzle of sorts. This one had two security codes for the gate to the complex and the front door. And then the keys to my room were inside a colored box. I had chosen the Amelia room (of course). With a view of this pretty courtyard.

What better place to start the new year? So here I am in Catania, after a huge garlicky bowl of spaghetti con vongole, capped with a self-service pour of limoncello at a neighborhood trattoria. My Italian is improving. A family even stopped me on the street to ask for directions.

The TV has 3 or 4 cooking channels and lots of serious looking interview shows, but I've settled in for A Chorus Line, in Italian.

"Volare...Oh oh oh oh..."


Saturday, December 29, 2018

Isola Ortygia



Siracusa is connected to the ancient island of Ortygia by bridge. It's filled with alleys that lead to other alleys. There's a temple to Apollo, but more recently, people have lived here since the 15th or 16th centuries.

An astronaut!

My dream house. Property is quite reasonable in Siracusa and Ortygia, by San Francisco standards.

The Ionian Sea is really clear. There's lots of diving and people were out stand up paddleboarding. If you get washed away, you wind up in Malta, or Lebanon.
 Enjoying the sunshine in my stylin' cape and beret
 This castle at the very tip of the island dates to the 12th century.
Pink and facing the sea. The architecture felt a bit like Havana. Not nearly as hot or humid.

A vintage Citroen is the perfect getaway car.
Monster guarding the mail slot.

Traditional Sicilian faces/vases

A succulent garden on the fire escape to aspire to...

I loved this tiny sun-drenched church at the end of the alley.

I've been snapping photos of vending machines all over Italy for a design blog post. You can procure condoms, lottery tickets, and cigarettes. Apparently you can also buy pot for around 20 euros. Maybe just in Siracusa? I watched as a giggly couple of middle-aged Spaniards bought a pack. Kitty in the box not included.

This cute arancina is for Pam. Proving you can find gluten-free vegan street food in Sicily.

Back in Siracusa, there's a giant monument to martyrs who died fighting fascism.

Streetside obituaries and memorials. Are these kinds of banns typical?

Did you know papyrus was made in ancient Siracusa? Egypt isn't actually that far away, though Tunis and Tripoli are a lot closer.

This is a rather dreadful modern church, made in tribute to a crying portrait of the Madonna. Though it reminds me of a volcano. I asked Andrea if it was nice inside (thinking maybe like the great stone cathedral in Helsinki) and he grimaced.

Finally, a pizza from Vivo Vivo. Andrea, my charming host, said it was the best pizza he'd ever eaten. When an Italian says that, you go.

I'm still not used to eating an entire pizza by myself. So I got the pie with rucola (arugula) for the illusion of salad. The crust was exemplary. The cheese divine. Oven roasted tomatoes were a fine touch. I found the sauce sweet, and was mystified as locals around me ate their pizza with fork and knife. Not the best pizza in my entire life, but completely respectable. With a divine glass of Amara amaro, flavored with Sicilian blood oranges, for a night cap.