But first, the events of our two final days at Modica, two hours's drive SW of here. Saturday 11Oct was moving day, but we hadn't yet seen the coastal area just south of Modica. So Thursday we headed out, driving our rented black Opel through the skinny local roads which I'm convinced are an everlasting feature of this part of Europe. With nearly two weeks under my Sicily driving belt I feel I'm starting to get the hang of the local driving culture, but it's still stressful, I must admit.
Anyway, the drive around the Modica coast area was a doddle compared with what we were about to face further north. And this time I packed my swimming togs.
Cava d'Algila, the first place we stopped, because the car park was empty and there were only a few sunworshippers basking like seals on the beach. Pic courtesy Google Earth.
Mary's pic, taken while I was getting ready to take a dip.
As at Castellammare del Golfo, the water was warm, and the sand fine. No surf today, but I suppose a rideable wave might occur from time to time. The fringe of the beach was lined with litter and building rubble from the deteriorating concrete esplanade, but overall the experience was pleasant enough for us to purchase our daily gelati (a habit we'll have to drop, for the sake of our waistlines) at the tiny, untidy, friendly beach bar. On the horizon at least one oil rig was visible, many kilometres out to sea.
Having managed to kill several hours in this exploration process we headed back home for a nap before dinner, again successfully negotiating the traffic, but still taking a wrong turn on the way in to Modica. This error was easily corrected, however, as iPad-dwelling Siri (we now refer to her as "she") did a recalculation as soon as she realized that a turn around was out of the question.
Thursday night we tried a new somewhat more expensive restaurant, and still good quality, where we briefly fell into the company of a group of US citizens (youngsters, all under 50) who were cycling together around Sicily. Friday we stayed close to home; didn't even disturb the car in its secure nearby parking spot. Dinner once more, and for the last time at the cheap but excellent trattoria up the dark alley I mentioned a couple of posts ago. Off to bed early as we had an early start, being compelled to leave our accommodation by 10:00am.
To Pedara
Our first views of Catania, as we approached from the south, started a feeling of trepidation, as we could see that the whole area, from the coast westward, was heavily developed. In Sicily, this generally means road chaos, as new buildings go up and old buildings stay; the road network, evolving from horse and cart needs, is forced to cope with the age of the motor car without augmentation. And so it proved as we found when we took the exit from the relatively tame autostrada into the jungle of back streets leading to Pedara, and all other villages to the west. On exiting I was horrified to discover that the exit ramp space, to our right as normal, was also used by traffic entering the autostrada from behind us. So the on-ramp and the off-ramp shared the same piece of unmarked bitumen. Cars simply weaved in and out and headed for their respective destinations. Once off the autostrada (pulse rate up, already) we began the tortuous snaking trail up toward the summit of Mount Etna, which we could occasionally sight as we followed Siri’s spoken instructions. Siri can NOT pronounce Italian, so the words come out as if from a machine (which it is, of course). So the Siri-spoken instruction to turn right at "via Sacerdote Alfio Barbagallo" (I am not making this up) would be hilarious if one was simply listening and not simultaneously dodging all other traffic and buildings which seem to jump into the street and also making judgements as to exactly which street of the several in close proximity this is (especially difficult as the notices carrying the ridiculously long street names have long-since eroded and fallen off).
Complicating this was the knowledge, conveyed using email by our forthcoming and computer-literate host, that some of the narrow streets marked as one-way by the databases of the world's road maps were now in fact one-way in the other direction. This knowledge helped enormously but forced us to stop several hundred metres and several times short of the target and then wend our way a step at a time by old-fashioned map reading using the iPad maps. This worked a treat and before long I rounded a 120° corner, all of 3.5m wide with sharp concrete corners, and sighted our accommodation facing the other end of the heavily cobbled street, 200 metres away.
Where we're staying.
Ninni and Cristina, a couple a little younger than we are, own this and live there on the first floor. They rent out two apartments in the building, with the help of their son Giuseppe, who is the only person in the household who speaks English (unfortunately, Giuseppe is away for the weekend, as we eventually discovered after some confusion). Never mind, they were very welcoming and pleased to see us (not half as much as we were to see them!). The second floor apartment is spacious, historic, comfortable, with views and access to a viewing platform which doubles as a flat roof, for the entire building. There's even a tiny modern lift which travels very slowly but is useful for getting the luggage up the two floors. We tend to use the wide marble stairs because we need the exercise, and besides, we've been warned never to use the phone-less lift if there's no one else in the house, in case it breaks down, and we're stuck forever or until the owners return from holidays. God, imagine getting stuck in the lift, even if it or we had a phone, given the language difficulties. Probably we'd phone Australia.
That evening, after acquiring the necessary supplies at the local supermarceto we sampled the rooftop viewing platform. And what a view it is.
Gazing at the smoking Mount Etna, wondering if it will go bang at any minute.
We agreed that this is one of the better views we've had from the numerous apartments and hotels we've stayed in. Etna was enshrouded with afternoon haze (there's a lot of smoky industry down at the nearby coast) but we hoped for, and were rewarded with, a better view in the morning.
Then it was off to participate in the Mushroom Festival, just down the road and around the corner. As usual, there was virtually nothing happening until 7:30pm, by which time we had settled into an al fresco pizza and a half litre of the house red while watching the passing parade.
The nearby scene
Pine tree in the park, well illuminated
Interesting history of the house
The house which includes our apartment has a poster outside on the wall proclaiming its history, but it was the family history, contained in an information file in the flat, which particularly interested me. Built by the Cavarallo family, which surname Ninni, Cristina and Giuseppe share, the building was closely involved, and indeed blooded, in World War 2 action. In August 1943, the then owner and ancestor of Ninni was on his balcony keeping an eye on a nearby battle between invading British Army elements and defending German Army troops when a stray British shell (alleged, but certainly possible) struck nearby, killing him with its shrapnel.
I did not know this before arriving here, but I had dug out a couple of historic images from WW2, bent on actually viewing the pictured locations, if possible.
This from a British Army unit's website, captioned "Tanks of 'A' Squadron in the piazza at Pedara, Sicily 1943."
My picture taken at the same location, 71 years later. The buildings remain the same.
Sunday, the morning air was clearer. Up to the rooftop we went, after brekky (cereal and coffee, self-prepared) to enjoy better views of Etna.
Etna, still smoking and not noisy at all. Note that for several months of the year the mountain carries a snow cap.
And a couple of other views of the town, in which the Mushroom Festivities continued.
The inhabited area creeps perilously close to the mountain.
View from our balcony, leading off the small kitchen.
Tomorrow we plan to take a drive to Taormina, famed "mecca" for every tourist to Sicily. We plan to drive to the foot of the cable car, at Mazarro Beach (about an hour), park the car, ride the cable car up to the heights, return on it, retrieve the car and return to our apartment. The PPPPPP principle has been observed, so we should be OK.
Then Tuesday is a big day. We start here in Pedara, drive to Catania airport, refuelling the car enroute, drop the hire car, check in, catch an 11:00am plane to Gatwick, negotiate UK Border Control, retrieve baggage, jump on the Gatwick Express, then get a taxi from London Victoria station to our last apartment (arrive by 18:00 at the latest), which we've booked for four nights. We'll try to fit another blog post in while in London.
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.
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