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"To have seen Italy without seeing Sicily is not to have seen Italy at all, for Sicily is the clue to everything" - Goethe
I'd visited Rome, Milan, Florence, Pisa, Siena, Como, Verona, Genoa, San Gimignano, Lucca, Bergamo, and Monza so I thought I had seen Italy but according to Goethe, clearly a lover of the Med's largest and most populous island, I hadn't at all.
I have now though. My Sicilian adventure began on Thursday when I took the train from Honor Oak Park to Norwood Junction and then, scoffing a bag of Space Raiders and a Crunchie and drinking a Fanta, to Luton Airport Parkway.
Jalapeno poppers, nachos, and a couple of beers in the airport and then a three hour Easyjet flight to Palermo. We flew over Eastbourne, the Seven Sisters, Cuckmere Haven, and Paris and as night fell there was a spectacular blood moon on the horizon for a good hour.
Landed in Palermo, picked up the luggage, and took the train to Vespri from where I lugged my three wheeled trolley to Amico's B&B, was let in by Federico, and fell asleep pretty bloody quickly. The bed was comfy, the Aircon just right. I wasn't sure about the art but I didn't have to look at it for long.
Waking early in the city of Giovanni Falcone, Mario Balotelli, and Luca Guadagnino (born elsewhere in Italy but somehow linked to the Sicilian capital) I headed off to the historic centre and the Quattro Canti.
Where, it seems, you find the heart of Palermo. I found opera singing buskers, a harpist playing The Cranberries' Zombie, and I also found a delightful breakfast.
At Morettino I had a breakfast of focaccia with goat's cheese, walnuts, pear compote, and black bee honey and washed it down with a rather lovely cappuccino Siciliano before I wandered round the beautiful piazzas of Bellini, Pretoria, and Bologni and took in some of the fantastically odd baroque churches. The likes of San Giuseppe de Teatini, Santa Caterina, Il Gesu, and La Martorana. It was turning into a lovely first day in Palermo and a great first day of the holiday.
I had a look around the hectic Piazza Ballaro market in the Albergheria district (lots of dead octopus, lots of loud music, lots of offers on Aperol Spritz) and made my through the delightful, palm tree dotted, Villa Bonano to the enormous Palazza dei Normani. Nearly nine hundred years old with impressive mosaics and a couple of lovely jugs, it wasn't cheap to go in but I think it was worth it and it certainly helped build up my hunger.
So I repaired to Sapore di Sicilia near the Cathedral and had a quattro formaggio pizza and a birra Moretti before wandering back through the market, seeing a lot of cats, and witnessing a skirmish between a street vendor and a smartly dressed local street drinker. In Italy, even the drunks wear natty threads.
I had a good look round the contemporary art museum which featured lots of very impressive local artists as well as work by William Kentridge and Jannis Kounellis and then, after a gelato stracciatella (very tasty, they all are), it was time to retreat to the digs for a siesta (not a nap, a siesta) and a bit of phone charging.
The evening saw a Paulaner on the terraza of the Monkey bar and then a walk down to the seafront for a sundowner at the Nauto beach bar. A live band did a soundcheck of Lovely Day, Let's Dance, and, er, Alive And Kicking so I thought I'd stick around for the actual set. Cod reggae versions of I'm Not In Love, The Final Countdown, Break My Stride, and Michael Sembello's Maniac didn't really work and their take on The Scorpions' Wind of Change was so bad it almost worked but they turned it round eventually.
Which of course meant another drink. Easy ("like a Sunday morning") isn't really a Friday night tune but it sounded okay but better still were their versions of Rocket Man, Seven Nation Army, and even a bit of Al Green and The Temptations. Even Solomon Burke. Blurred Lines doesn't seem to have the stigma in Italy us Brits attach to it and, most odd of all, the tune that went down best was Morcheeba's Rome Wasn't Built In A Day. Not a song I'd ever given much thought or time to.
As I passed back through the centre of Palermo I noticed bars called George Best, Gascoigne's, and Drunks (hmmm, can you see a theme) and noted the young and beautiful of Sicily's capital having it large to Ini Kamoze. I went back to the B&B and watched The Rest Is Entertainment podcast on my phone!
The next day began with breakfast in I Cucci. Arancini with three cheeses, chocolate brioche, and a cappuccino as well as a Coke Zero (in a glass bottle, always the best) before a visit to the incredible cathedral. The crypt really only of interest to those with a high level of knowledge about sarcophagi design but the rooftop walk was amazing. Views of the mountains on three sides and the sea on the fourth, the architecture is pretty amazing too and speaks of many of the different peoples that have passed through, or even conquered, Sicily.
Even if, primarily, it is an Arab-Norman construction. After that I had a trip to the modern art gallery. I had an idea of making a note of who all the artists were on show but then realised it would take me longer to write this blog than it took me to actually go round the gallery so here's some of my favourite artworks that were on show (quite a few of them) and the artists that stood out for me were Francesco Lojacano, Antonio Leto, and Michele Catti. You'll just have to guess which works are theirs! There were even works by a couple of artists I'd previously heard of:- Gino Severini and Carlo Carra.
All of that culture was pretty thirsty work so I grabbed myself my first ever Sicilian granita (opting for lemon and choosing not to have the added Prosecco) and, golly, it was tasty. So refreshing. It was the best granita I'd ever had and, though I had a few more as the holiday progressed, it remains so now. Made with local lemons (Sicily is big on lemons, I wish I'd worn my 'naughty lemon' shirt) and as an added bonus the vendor thought I was Spanish.
I had a walk around the La Kalsa district in the footsteps of Garibaldi and the murdered anti-mafia judge Giovanni Falcone and at one church (La Magione) I nearly ended up crashing a wedding. I wish Giovanni and Francesca all the best. I had a look around the gorgeous gardens of Villa Giuluia and then it was time, again, for another siesta.
And why not? That evening I had a beer at Barrel44, a pizza at Appeti, and another couple of beers in the Shelby pub. I'd had fun on my own during the day but it would have been nice to have somebody to chat to in the evening. I felt a bit lonely if truth be told.
On my final day in Palermo I decided to address that in one of the only ways I know how. I went for a big long walk. Eight miles to Mondello and the beach with, initally, just an almond granita to fuel me. It was nowhere nice as the lemon one and, in fact, had the consistency and appearance of the bowls of Ready Brek my mum used to make for me when I was at junior school.
Quite filling though. I walked to the edge of Palermo proper, past the Sexy Shop, and made my way along the huge promontory of Monte Pellegrino (adorned with, as so much is at the moment, a huge Palestinian flag) accompanied by cicadas, lizards, and butterflies.
It was a really beautiful stretch and it took me about three hours before I reached the edge of Mondello and then the beach itself. The beach was beautiful and the water looked lovely although there were two disappointments. (1) Some Italian beaches are dominated by beach clubs, or lidos, in which you have to pay large amounts of money to use the beach - even if smaller areas are given over to free beach use and you can always get in the sea. (2) I was alone so I had nobody to watch my stuff if I wanted to, and I did, get in the hugely inviting water.
So I didn't. Instead I had penne con pomodoro and a Coke Zero at a place called Marino and then got the bus back to Palermo. It dropped me off in a part of the city I didn't know and my phone then died. I couldn't find anyone who spoke English so I couldn't get directions to the centre. I did, at least, manage to score a gelato.
Eventually I found a cafe, ordered a Coke, and charged my phone up to 1% which was enough to work out a route back to the centre which I then took. I stopped at a couple of bars before heading back to the room for an early-ish night. My time in Palermo had been, on the whole, very good but the next morning it would be time to move on and I will, of course, pick up on that story in the second part of my Sicilian travelogue. Thanks to anyone who bothered reading. I know other people's holiday stories can be boring but hopefully at least some of the photos are nice.
