Segesta, Sicily

When I initially researched Sicily,  the number of ancient sites it held struck me immediately.  I imagined Greece as the European place to see temples and archaeological sites from before Christ.  Yet, I learned the real estate adage "Location, location location" fits Sicily.  Located in the heart of the Mediterranean, the Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, and Spanish - among others -  tried to claim the premier piece of land.   These people left Doric Temples, Greek theaters, alters and tombs throughout the island.   Near Trapani, the ancient of Segesta took root in the twelfth century BC.   A Doric temple and a theatre still stand from over 2500 years ago.

Alessandro drove us to the site.  He put Charlie on a ten yard leash, walked up the hill, and told us "No one is looking - you can climb over the gate."  So we did.

Then, a guard yelled at us in Italian.  So Emily ran.

We took pictures while Alessandro reminisced about coming here as a kid and hanging out at the temple.

The kids picked flowers and created wild bouquets.

We persuaded them to hike the 20 minutes to the theater.

We rested and ate Italian cookies and American granola bars at a 4,000 seat theatre built earlier than I can fathom.

I prayed we would not be visiting an Italian ER as the kids jumped form seat to seat.

As we picked out sandwiches at the store on site, Alessandro interjected, insisted they were garbage and explained he knew the perfect place in the next town over.  Ten minutes later, we arrived in a town with no restaurants and practically no people.  After more cookies and cappuccino, we started the twenty minute drive back to Trapani.  Dave quickly noticed that we were going the wrong way.  Unfortunately, Alessandro did not notice until 30 min later.  We drove up and down the mountain taking very sharp turns prompting Owen to turn green.  An hour and 40 minutes later we arrived back in Trapani, grateful we only had one ride left.

Palermo, Sicily

On Jan 3 - still in Sicily - , we celebrated kids day, and Emily and Owen planned our outings.  After playing on the Kindles without having to hear, "Too much time on the electronics" and eating donuts for breakfast, they decided it was playground time.   Dave coached them in hitting plastic blow-up balls with a racket.  Within minutes, other children eagerly joined the team.  I found it amazing that even without verbal communication, the kids comfortably interacted.

We walked to the port, found a little cafe, and again enjoyed pizza, two sandwiches, two zeppole, an amaretto cappuccino, and a Kit Kat for only 6 euro. (The Kit Kat, which cost the most at 1 euro 50, because Emily preferred the packaged American candy to the Italian desserts.)  We ended the day at a gelateria where a homeless man asked us for money and the owner quickly kicked him out.  This event spurned a lively debate where - my father would be proud - Emily took the Republican stance.  "He should get a job."  I tried to explain the complex issues of opportunities, economy, empathy, and the non-existence of "fairness."  I felt like Mrs. Keaton talking with Alex on Family Ties.

The next day, Alessandro took us to Palermo - the "hub" of the Island since the 9th century and  supposedly the noisiest city in Sicily.  I thought of my Uncle Matt, a self-proclaimed mobologist, as memorials to the judges and lawyers who were killed trying to fight the Mafia greeted us.  Apparently, for years, the Mafia channeled funds from Rome and the EU meant to redevelop the city.

We started our tour at Monreale, twelfth century cathedral considered a wonder of the medieval world and renowned for its amazing mosaics.

Alessandro then took us to a hole-in-the-wall outlet to try traditional street food.  He refused to tell us it was spleen until after we took several bites.

 

Dave ran up the old Opera house stairs Rocky style and we then walked through a street market.

On the drive home, we stopped at an overlook to see Castellammare del Golfo, the biggest of the local fishing ports.  One writer, who lived there in the 1950's, claimed eighty percent of the adult males had served a prison sentence and one in three had committed murder.  Hard to believe while looking at the postcard perfect view.

Erice, Sicily

On the second morning, we woke desperate for a grocery store.  (Yes, desperate.  We drank our last 2-liter water bottle and the stores closed on New Year's Day.  I guess the Mafia controls the water quality in western Sicily so like the Sicilians, I refused tap water.)   We pulled the two kids by their sleeves the three blocks to Simply market observing the decaying buildings and rusting cars as we walked.  In the store,  I begged them to lower their voices ("Do you guys hear anyone else yelling in here?") as we tried to figure out which white carton contained milk.  Luckily, some grocery items remain universal as we found a delicious rotisserie chicken and of course, honey-nut Cheerios.  I practiced ignoring my children as they argued in one of the aisles until an elderly Italian man approached them and seemed to inquire "where is the mother."  We survived the store and enjoyed zeppole, Italian donuts, and cappuccino at a Pasticcerie.

Upon returning to the apartment, Alessandro, Merta, and Charlie offered to take us to Erice - a walled architecturally medieval city that dates from ancient times.   We piled in the Fiat (without seat belts or car seats) and wound our way up the mountain.  Alessandro insisted we stop at an lookout.  I suppressed my panic as I watched speeding cars swing around the "look out."

When we arrived, we walked through the Porta Trapani and went to the Chiesa Madre, a massive Gothic Church from 1314.

I tried a cassata, a Sicilian dessert consisting of sponge cake and ricotta cheese layers covered with colorful marzipan.  Definitely too sweet, even for me. Two desserts down - eight to go.

We walked through the city to the 12th century Castello di Venere, a castle built on the site of the ancient temple of Aphrodite, chunks of which are incorporated into the walls.  This castle sits on a cliff and offers incredible views of Trapani and the water front.  Emily insisted on using her camera to capture the amazing scenes.

She directed each of us including Alessandro when he offered to take a picture of our family.  I realized a little late that I had forgotten to change my aperture, so it appears Emily is taking pictures of heaven.

I did manage to get a few great shots.

Trapani, Sicily

We woke up New Year's Day a bit disoriented.  After listening to firecrackers all night, I needed a cappuccino.  Alessandro graciously offered us a tour of his beloved city.  Still unsure of distance and fearing the kids would not survive a two hour walk, we piled in his Fiat with his recently adopted begeal, Charlie, and his other guest Merta and drove 5 minutes into the city center.  I learned that West Sicily, where Trapani sits, is traditionally poor and heavily influenced by Arab and Phoenician culture.  The city layout resembles the Middle East more then the rest of Europe.  We started at the Villa Margherita gardens and immediately spotted a playground.  Of course, we had to stop.

The beautiful park included centenarian trees and a bird conservatory.  Owen and Charlie loved the animals.

We walked the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, the pedestrian main street that was still decorated for Christmas and almost completely deserted.  Alessandro pointed out Churches that dated from the 1200s tucked between restored medieval buildings.  We stopped at a cafe and I ate my first of the top ten desserts in Sicily - cannoli.

Originally a Phoenician trading center and port (yes - the city is that old), Trapani flourished form BC through the Middle Ages.  Although now layered in grime, the architecture amazed me and the sea provided picturesque views.

Since all of the restaurants and grocery stores remained closed for New Year's, we ended our first day once again eating dinner at Alessandro's.

A Wedding Poem

We ended 2012 like a bride preparing for her wedding.   "Something old" to connect us with the home. "Something new" representing our new journey and life ahead. "Something borrowed"  reminds us we can depend on our friends and family. "Something Blue" to symbolize love, modesty, and fidelity.  

Something Old:  Dave woke up early and went straight to the Slingbox.  As I laid in bed, I could hear, "Catch the ball" quickly followed by a tiny echo repeating the sentiments.  Dave and the kids sweat through the morning watching the Skins-Cowboys game.  In order to predict the mood for the day,  I looked at the results, discovered the Skins won, and went back to bed.

Something New:  In October, Dave found the farthest point south to which Ryan Air flew, Sicily.  Ryan Air sells no frills discounted flights throughout Europe.  Located about 75 min from Frankfurt, we arrived at the airport over thee hours before our flight.  We packed three outfits each to last over a week since we only purchased one carry-on.  I found a two bedroom apartment (with a washing machine) - and the owner volunteered to pick us up at the airport and prepare New Year's Eve dinner.  Ah, yes. Raised to fear strangers, I felt nervous, but I heard Italians are nice.  Our flight arrived thirty minutes early, and Alessandro met us with his little blue Fiat. We enjoyed Italian sausages, red wine, and a Sicilian potato dish his mother had made.  His great grandfather built this century old building in which we are staying.  With its hand painted tile floors and over 15 foot ceilings,  it provides an idyllic Sicilian accommodation.

Something Borrowed:   While I listed to fireworks seemingly set off outside my window from 12-4 in the morning,  I wish I had borrowed my sister's ear plugs.  I will take her advice and travel with them in the future.  (As I laid there unable to sleep, I wish I had borrowed some of Mrs. T's books.)

Something Blue:  The Mediterranean