?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Go to the past | Go to the future

Rob and I lingered in Palermo to see the main art gallery, but it was closed for renovation for a year. You see, this area of the city was carpet bombed in World War 2, and they are repairing it in a timely fashion. We caught a train to Agrigento, and then bus to its seaside neighbour town of San Leone, wedged between which is the Magna Grecian Valle dei Templi. San Leone has the feel of Rosebud, Tootgarook or Sorrento. This, of course, is not extremely surprising of itself. It is however aided by the army of Eucalypts and Wattles across Sicily. We found Marco at the camping park (a fine tip for travellers: much cheaper than hostels and occasionally nicer), utterly failed in our quest to reach the sand beach (sand to the left, rocks to the right), and after a characteristically Sicilian sardine pasta, bedded down for the night. We left our rustic cabin the next day to see the ruins, consisting of temples, a gymnasium and a museum. After the first two temples we stumbled almost accidentally upon the gymnasium, which is seemingly oft overlooked, and we had it to ourselves, to liberate as many almonds and pomegranates from the surrounding trees as we liked. Had we a plastic bag, it would be prickly pears too. We returned to the other three temples at sundown, when many a fine photo was to be had and when the only other souls were security guards telling us to leave.

Next our bold trio headed to Taormina, the much hyped mountain town between Catania and Messina. One highlight of Sicilia has been the train trips, and while from Agrigento through the centre of the island to Catania the land was agriculturalised (spell checker tells me I invented that word) enough that one doesn’t expect The Man With No Name to ride over the hill, this was a particularly picturesque journey. Taormina, on the other hand, while appearing picturesque after dark while lugging baggage from sea level up a steep winding mountain road, is in fact fairly crap in the light of day. The views over the coast are nice but not astounding, the ancient Greek theatre is far from worth the 6 Euro admission, and the town is just another rural Italian town. This may be a harsh view, given that much amusement was found here in a font of holy water inside the duomo that doubled as a spawning pool for mosquito larvae. However, I feel the knowledge that I will soon be flying home, and that I have now completed what personal journey was necessary on this trip is precipitating a sense of travel weariness. I shall like to move on in the morning. Almost back to Roma and thus back to work.

This lunar cycle

April 2015
S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930  
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by chasethestars