Sicily, to us, is a bit like Italy as we previously experienced some years back now, but better. For a start, the food here is great and very reasonably priced, whereas in our previous visits to mainland Italy we struggled to get a decent meal at any price. I think times have changed, both Sicily and us. Technology has definitely made routine tasks easier; it's much easier to get cash and use a debit or credit card; finding info about places is so much easier now, and of course navigation is a doddle compared with the past. On the other hand there's still a considerable language barrier, but even then, our translator (iPad based App) has helped where there's been a seemingly impassable barrier between interlocuters.
Where we parked yesterday, in Monreale. That's our black Opel on the left.
The pic above serves to introduce you to our car-based visit to the famous attractions of Palermo and its western suburb, Monreale. We have a car, why not drive? Ugo, our host, suggested that we drive through the mountains to Monreale, park the car (Ugo: "No problemo at this time of the yearo!") and catch the local bus to Palermo and back. Sounds like a plan, we thought. We checked the maps, tried unsuccessfully to discover a parcheggio (paid, specialized car parking area) and thought "What the hell, we can do this." We set out yesterday, hearts in mouth, as early as we could drag ourselves out of bed.
A Google Maps satellite pic of the town of Monreale, where we hoped, no needed to, get a parking place otherwise the plan failed. Look carefully and you can see many cars inhabiting the narrow gorge-like alleys of this iconic tourist attraction.
Satellite image of the terrain between start point (western arrow) and finish point (eastern arrow). Yikes!
An hour later we were nearing the target, having done a modern day Targa Florio (go on, look it up) imitation to get there. Our eyes searched in vain for the large, or even small, universal signs indicating parking areas. These signs do exist in Sicily, but so do millions of others and they're all competing with each other, usually on the same post at the intersection or roundabout edge, for the attention of passing humans. The iPad showed us the way in, but couldn't tell us where there was a parking spot. This last vital requirement depended, at last, on human resourcefulness and desperation. The streets were packed with cars, shuffling along like a line of ants, everywhere weaving in and out of each other's paths, all the time interspersed with those lesser ear splitting motor vehicles, mopeds, all driven by crazed Sicilians. Even though Mary was continually showing signs of an approaching abandon-ship moment, she stuck with it (perhaps better-the-devil-you-know syndrome?). As for me, I was desperately trying to avoid dinging the car and/or running over aged and tottering pedestrian local ladies and a few tourists who also thronged the streets. White knuckles were everywhere.
After several minutes of this, and just after we had driven through what looked like an operating town market, able to buy fruit out of the car window if we'd wanted to, I spied a guy with a wayward eye on the edge of the road, between a car and a moped, both parked. In fact the whole one-way street, not much wider than a single lane on an Australian road, had cars parked on both sides and a steady stream of moving mechanalia in the remaining space. The edge of the road was flanked by buildings tall enough to challenge Superman's single bound leaps, thus blocking any hope of allowing an orientation view. In other words it was an ant heap writ large.
The wayward-eye guy made eye contact as soon as I wound down the window next to him and I'd asked in my best Italian "Parcheggio?". Being street wise, in that particular street, he knew instantly my position was hopeless but recognized an opportunity. Within seconds he'd stopped the traffic behind us then moved a couple of mopeds, miraculously opening a space on the left just big enough to squeeze our car into. That is, for a competent Sicilian driver to squeeze our car into. Here I was, driving from the left seat in a rented car, trying to accomplish a task that was beyond me in a single attempt, all the while being subject to shouted instructions in Sicilian from our new friend and assorted helpers. Nevertheless, after what was undoubtedly an extraordinary amount of time we were in an acceptable position, our mirrors were retracted and the traffic was once more flowing past.
With the help of Google translate we found that I could park there all day (which is what we wanted) "tutto il giorno". I slipped the wayward-eye guy €5, marked the car's location as a Bookmark on the iPad and took a photo also to show the police in the event that the car was not there on our planned return, several hours later.
Now to the local tourist attraction, only a few minutes' walk from the car. This duomo is noted for its incredible mosaics, created in the 11-13 century, presumably when they had little else to do.
A close up of a vertical mosaic panel in the duomo. By no means perfect, for sure, but from a distance, as most are viewed, they are amazing, as you'll see from the images below.
The interior. Every depiction and intricate design you can see here was created using mosaics. The duomo interior was coated with mosaics, in incredibly complex arrangements.
Yep, all mosaics
The Noah biblical story on the wall, all as imagined by the medieval artists. Note the very limited range of animals being loaded into the ark in the panel on the right (what, no kangaroos or wombats?).
And here's Eve, emerging from Adam's body. Adam seems to be deficient in procreational features. Magnificent artwork, 800 years old and still glittering.
The magnificent cloisters at Monreale duomo.
Time precludes my providing more details but we grabbed a bus for Palermo, spent an hour there and got out as fast as we could. The number one Palermo tourist thing to see we had already seen in Monreale, and the attractions further down the list were poor in comparison.
Your correspondent on the open top bus, stuck in traffic in grotty Palermo on the way back to Monreale.
Anyway, you'll be relieved to hear that we retrieved our car. Wayward-eye guy was, incredibly, still there, watching over it and it was not boxed in. With great relief we easily found our way out of Monreale using the iPad's amazing navigation facilities and after a bottle of the best Sicilian rosé at home headed for downtown Castellammare del Golfo on foot in search of dinner.
Sicilian streetside fruit shop (temporary version) encountered just around the corner
And another, on the way.
Mary, sends cheers to you all. That's a €12 veal scallopini. Fantastic! Lovely street restaurant in comfortable evening temperature
I ordered "leggo of porco" or something like that, not expecting the whole lower part of the leg, which was what they served up. Pete, you'd really like this. Fantastic at €12 also. The litre of very nice house red was €8, and we left some un-drunk.
Thanks for reading
Kev Long
Author iPad Traveller for iPad and Mac.
The technical stuff:
Our iPad is connecting to the Internet mainly through a cellular connection provided (prepaid) by the UK "3" network, including in Italy. On high ground and in town environments around Cornwall this connection proved quite good but many places, especially in valleys and in small coastal localities lack coverage so no or poor connection. So far, in Sicily, the connection has been good. There are quite a few WiFi options available although not always advertised. Just ask if you're unsure if available. WiFi is of course the preferred method of transferring large amounts of data but I have been posting these blogs and their images sometimes using only a cellular connection either from inside our apartment where possible or on the roadside.
The cellular connection gives us both in car and on foot navigation capabilities which are essential around Sicily, where mere printed maps struggle to provide sufficient detail at a manageable size.
And I must say, Mary presents a fine picture . . but not sure about the other bloke in the bus!
ReplyDeletePaul and Sue