Saturday again was sunny but windy. I thought it was time I visited some of the ancient sites so I left for Syracusa, driving along the coast through Avola (home of Nero di Avola, purchasable at the SAQ), Cassibile, Fontane Bianche (a seaside resort). Avola was a disappointment, flat and industrial but the scenery of the mountains to the west was awesome. I took minor roads that were bordered by stone walls. I saw many agricultural “estates” and many with crumbling old stone houses. I really want to buy one and restore it-many are for sale.
I finally got to Syracusa and headed out for the island of Ortygia – the ancient Greek city now being restored. I parked near the bus station (free until 4:00) and walked down the ubiquitous Corso Umberto Emmanuele to the bridge to the island. As soon as you cross the bridge, there is a market to your left selling CD’s, cheap bags, cell phone accessories, etc.
Straight ahead is the tempio di Apollo – no relation. It dates from the 6th century BC. It is the oldest Doric temple in Sicily and went through several transformations - temple dedicated to Apollo, then dedicated to Artemis, then to a Byzantine church, a mosque, and finally a Norman church
In honour of the physicists at Dawson, I then visited Piazza Archimede and the Archemedeion’ with the street number pi. I threw a coin, in their name in the fountain dedicated to Arethusa. Behind the fountain is one of the few buildings that survived the 1693 earthquake – the Palazzo Montalto with its graceful-3 arched windows and Star of David. Next time I come to Ortygia, I will visit the museum and Archimede’s grave.
After a gelato, I wandered through the many dusty lanes which opened into small courtyards dominated by quiet squares, often with benches. Some of the alleyways also had B&B’s. It would be wonderful to stay here for several days and soak in the dreamy ambiance.
I ended in the Piazza del Duomo where Syracusa’s Duomo was built incorporating the Doric columns from the temple dedicated to Minerva.
Ortygia was mentioned by Virgil in the Aneid- men of old called it Orytigia. Hither, runs the tale, Apheus, river of Elis, forced a secret course beneath the sea, and now at thy fountain, Arethusa, mingles with the Sicilian waves.
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It was now late so I will have to come back to see the other sites.
Sunday is family day in Sicily, with families going on picnics in the countryside (at least in summer). So, I decided to visit the wetland reserve, Reserva Naturale di Vendicari, on the southeast coast of Sicily. Many birds and ducks stop here on their migratory paths. It is now completely protected (no dogs) and consists of paths meandering through the marsh interrupted with blinds that people can use to view the birds. The entrance to the reserve is lined with Eucalyptus trees so as you enter the reserve all you smell is the sea and eucalyptus and all you hear is the sound of the surf, wind, and birds. Although there were 10-20 cars in the parking lot, I did not see anyone on the paths. The plants and trees indigenous to the marshlands are also protected.
There are also remains of a Grecian fish processing plant and catacombs. I walked for at least 10 km, enjoying the peace and solitude.
Drove back along the coast to Ragusa Ibla. Again the scenery included many terraced fields separated by stone walls. Most of the fields were used for vegetables and fruit trees although some had sheep and scraggly cows. I followed my friendly GPS lady up a narrow tract. A farmer, along the way told me that, if I were to continue, I had to drive very slowly, because the “road” was not meant for cars.
The road up the mountain was impressive. Ragusa Ibla was founded by the original inhabitants of Sicily, the Siculi, fleeing inland to escape the Greeks. Like many ancient towns it was built on top of a hill to be defensible. The road is very steep with many switchbacks and as it began raining, I drove slowly with a long line of traffic behind me. No one honked as the road was slippery and skirted the gorge. There are small farms perched on the steep hills along the road. I would love to find one similar to this near Ragusa. The cows here must have mountain goat genes, as the fields are terraced with narrow flat spaces. It is a wonder that cows haven’t fallen on the cars going by – especially as it is extremely windy. The side of the hill is almost vertical.
The next morning was also sunny so I decided to drive to Noto, the Pearl of Baroque Sicily. Maria Rizza teaches school in Noto and she invited me to visit her and have a coffee in the Piazza. Noto, like other older Sicilian cities is built on a hill, and because of the tufa stone used in most of the buildings, shines white-gold from afar.
I parked near the Porta Reale which has a public parking lot and extensive gardens, borderd by lavender and rosemary. I picked several sprigs that I stuffed in my pockets to surround myself with the aroma of Noto. I then walked through the gate to the Piazza del Municipaio which is lined by beautiful restored Baroque buildings. The cathedral dome fell in the late 1990’s and so UNESCO declared Noto a heritage site and gave Noto a lot of money to restore the buildings. There are several churches, monasteries, including a cloister, palaces that have been converted to municipal buildings, theaters, and schools. Maria’s school is an adapted monastery. It reminded me very much of Dawson. There are many narrow streets, accessible only on foot, and stairs linking the different levels. You are not far from the sea (the Reserva Naturale di Vendicari is part of Noto) so it would be a lovely town in which to live. There appeared to be many students wandering the streets. I am not sure whether they were local students or students visiting from elsewhere
The next day I went to Pachino to the post office. Portopalo is too small to have a post office and you can only buy stamps in a post office. So, I drove again to Pachino, but this time to the town center which is dominated by a lovely church. Everything closes from 1:00 to 4:00 for people to go home and have their main meal with their family. However, many single men (apparently, without families) congregate at the piazzas and lounge in the cafes and churches lining the piazzas. I saw them in all the towns and cities I visited. I guess for them the 3hour break does not work. They start at 7:30 in the morning and finish around 8:00pm.
I really do not understand parking here. There are large signs giving the rates and fines (for not paying) along the streets. However, there are no meters. You have to go to a tobacco store and purchase a parking voucher. Every time I have gone in to purchase one, they have waved me away and told me I do not need one. Maybe I don’t have to pay because I am a tourist; although I have seen parking tickets on other cars.
I went for lunch at Maria’s where I had some lentil minestrone, broccoli torta, local squid, and tangerines from the neighbours trees. I worked for several hours, using their wifi connection before going back to the post office. I had to wait in line for half an hour, only to be told that the stamps had to be ordered from the main post office and I would have to come back in a few days. I bought fruit from a street vendor who told me he was from Toronto (retired). He said Sicily was great if you had a pension; but, there are few jobs. Many of the children of Canadian émigrés are going back to Canada to work. I have met four Canadians from Toronto who have moved here. They love the weather, food (especially fruit and vegetables) and the life-style. I must say the vegetables are fantastic. They don’t taste anything like the veggies in Montreal. They are tender, and even the broccoli has a full sweet taste. You can cook the artichoke stems like asparagus.
I watched “The Red Tent” on my laptop. It was filmed in Morocco and the scenery reminded me of the scenery here (at least what it would look like in summer). Now it is quite green with rain in the late afternoon almost every day. The stone huts used by farmers and shepherds looked very similar. I even saw shepherds, in traditional clothing, herding their small flocks on the “highway”.
I remained in Portopalo because I had a flat tire. I spent several hours trying to phone the car rental agency (most telephone numbers on the contract were disconnected) only to be finally told it was my problem. So I drew pictures (I didn’t know the word for flat tire in Italian) and was directed to a “gommiste” a few blocks away. He repaired my tire for 5 Euros. Since the windshield was dirty and I had no windshield fluid left, I tried to find windshield washer fluid. Apparently they don’t sell any in Sicily (at least in Portopalo). I was told to use water with a few drops of detergent since it never freezes here. Much less expensive and partially makes up for the price of gas here (almost $2.00 a litre). I am spending much more money on gas than on food and wine.
I wandered down to the ocean front where a rich agriculturist is restoring an old castle, formerly owned by an aristocrat from Noto.
Friday, I accepted a ride with Maria to go back to Siracusa. It is much easier when someone else is driving. She dropped me off at the entrance to the Parco Archeologico Della Neapolis. The entrance fee was 10 Euro – well worth it! When I entered the park, I was totally awestruck – I could not believe the sheer size of the Greek theater- built in 500 BC and modified by Hieron in 300 BC (seating 15,000 spectators). There was almost no one else at the theater; so, I sat on a bench and imagined the opening night of one of Aeschyius’ plays or a Roman gladiatorial fight. You could almost hear the cheers and boos. I would love to see a performance given here in the late spring. I spent several hours wandering around the site and enjoying the sunshine but not the extreme wind. I left my hat as a gift to the “gods” whose inscription you can still discern at the front of some of the gangways. Along the back of the theater is the Nymphameum from which water was carted and a series of votive niches and Byzantine tombs. There is still water flowing from some of the niches.
The Altar of Hieron II is also at the entrance to the park. It was built around 225 BC dedicated to Zeus Eleutherios, the god of freedom. I heard a German tourist say that many men were sacrificed on the altar; but it is probably a conspiratory theory. This altar was the largest in Magna Graecia. The quarry from which all the stone was cut that was used to build Syracusa (the Latomia del Paradiso) is now shady oasis along the side of the park. Here you can find the Orecchio di Dionysius and other “monuments” to other body parts. I think the ‘ears” look more Vulcan.
By this time, I was really tired from all the walking up and down stone stairs. My knee was hurting so much, I could hardly walk. I still had to walk to the bus station to catch the bus back to Pachino. The bus was a local bus bringing kids back home after school. The kids could have been from Dawson, with their hoodies and cell phones. They stood around in cliques, ignoring groups of teenagers, obviously from Africa. I wonder if there are racial tensions here, being so close to Lampedusa. The bus went through several small towns, including Avola, Noto, etc. before dropping me off at Maria’s where again they offered me a late (3:00 PM) lunch. I left Pachino with a large bag of local freshly picked tangerines, broccoli, and artichokes, which they insisted I take.
Stayed in Portopalo and rested my knee; planned visits to archeological sites over the next few days. I am still having trouble with my cell phone plan (WIND Italia). I keep on getting messages to feed it more money. I tried speaking to customer service; but my Italian is not up to snuff for complicated technical explanations. I now understand why Trip Advisor suggests that one get a mobile plan from home and get service in English (at a much greater cost). However, I wrote out an explanation in English and asked Maria to translate it into Italian and e-mailed Wind. I should get a response in a few days. Meanwhile I can receive phone calls (even from Canada) but can’t call out.
