The Internet is in it's infancy in Sicily

The title of my posting comes from a perceptive comment in a guidebook about Sicily. I laughed it off, bein a stupid American and expecting every inch of a city to be lo-fi'ed, hi-fi'ed, wi-fi'ed, high-fived. Sadly, this is not the case in most of Sicily. I am in an internet cafè in Palermo, and to my immediate left, Maria sits typing, and to my immediate right, is the red-hot surface of the sun. Earlier, I thought a pizza was cooking, but it was actually my delicate flesh.

We are only in Palermo for a day, and I do not fancy this city very much. It is frightfully hot, and we are not near enough to the beach to warrant a trip there. The grinding of trucks and squeal of motor scooters seems to make the heat even more oppressive and when it finally cools off at night, one can begin to notice the sweet smell of garbage emanating from the alleys and whirlpools of garbage forming in the piazzas. For my money, I preferred Trapani. We originally chose Trapani because Ryan Air flew there, and I was expecting a dirt landing strip and the baggage carrier to be a wheelbarrow driven by a mule. I was not far off, but this quaintness made Trapani all the more enjoyable. No longer were we surrounded by rude American tourists, now we could delight ourselves with rude Italian tourists! Actually, the spot was very un-touristy, and, because Maria and I are quite proficient in Italian and physically rememble Sicilians (read: skin is dark and noses tremendous) we were accepted from the outset.

There was a slight snafù at our hotel, which was situated right on the ocean. Naively, I thought a room would be let for €55 a night, which I know now is absurd, given the proximity of our hotel to the beach. A €55 room got you a single bed, a hole in the ground for bathing and excreting purposes, and little else. A camera doppolo was what we should have reserved, and was actually big enough for 2 rotund people like myself and Maria. (I've gained 35 pounds on this trip.) Oh well. We paid a handsome sum for the nicest hotel room I've ever been in. It was even better than that hourly-rate hotel I stayed at in Wildwood, NJ.

The next morning, after gulping down cappucinos the Italian way, Maria and I walked to the ferry and took the trip to isola Favignana, which we later learned housed a prison! Oops! Beside the escaped convict borrowing our inflatable raft to escape, it was a perfect day. We relaxed on a beach and when the sun got too hot, we took a dip in the beautiful water. It was like backstroking through an angel's halo. Then, on my suggestion, we decided to circumnavigate the island, and much like Magellan, we were almost killed by the natives (our death came at the hands of suicidal scooter drivers, whereas Magellan was the recipient of a dozen poison-tipped spears). After a 30 minute walk (Maria will hyperbolize this to about 6 hours) we found a stowaway beach tucked in between two natural jetties. Again, the water was perfect and the sun was tamed by the waning afternoon. We watched the Siclian families and their children playing in the waves and I remarked to Maria that we should have spent our entire vacation here. She replied that, as it is my first time in Europe, we were correct in visiting the number of cities we did, and it would have been imprudent to stay 30 days on an island filled with murderous criminals.

At 4:30, we dragged ourselves way from the beach and embarked on the 25 minute (16 hour) walk to the port, but Maria flagged down a bus driven by a chain smoking maniac. Driving perilously close the pedestrians and barrier walls of the farms, our driver nonetheless was able to turn 180° and converse with the other riders. Returning to Trapani that night, we returned to a restaurant we had eaten at the night before (the menu was as long as the Old Testament, but tastier) and were welcomed as regulars by the waiters and proprietor. Everything in Trapani is family-run, including the Mafia. After dinner we got some gelato (i now eat strawberry gelato twice daily, it has 16 essential vitamins and minerals) and strolled in the general direction of our our hotel. Hark! What hath my ears perceived? The strains of a Verdè opera? My discerning ears were correct. In a piazza not far from the hotel, a small concert was being held and the neighborhood families had come out to enjoy. What a strange sight! Throughout Europe, there are buskers on every corner, and now, I see not a busker, but a professional opera singer! She was marvelous, really reaching down for those forceful notes and the over-dramatic piano accompianist complemented her wonderfully. Sated by seafood, gelato fragolo and Verdè, Maria and I ended the night phoning her parents and reading. I am currently reading The Power Broker, about Robert Moses and his authority over public works in New York. Clocking in at 1200 pages, it is a tome, but well worth it.

After we finish blogging today, we're off to Rome, where our trip concludes. I can't believe it's been nearly a month. It feels like yesterday I was doodling in my notebook during an EPAAI presentation and dreaming about Barcelona. Now, Barcelona is behind me and a terrible EPAAI term paper in front of me.

About a thousand pictures to upload and more stories to write.