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  • A Visit to Nonna’s House

    A Visit to Nonna’s House

    Monday, January 15, 2018 – Martin Luther King Day

     It’s one of those typical rainy, January days in San Francisco (though my parents often say that January is one of the nicest months on the California Coast) and we’re headed up to Nonna’s House on Columbus Avenue.  Mom, dad & I are in mom’s Subaru and dad is complaining that we’ll never find parking close by.  Amy’s not far behind in her car with her friend Deborah Amore.  Deb’s a psychic medium.

    Since starting my ancestry work a few years ago, Amy & I have been talking about taking Deb up to Nonna’s to do a reading for us.  We’re fascinated to see this place for ourselves – and to see if Deb can help uncover some of the mysteries of the family and/or confirm a few.

    We’ve talked Dad into joining us (but keep in mind, he really has no idea what this is all about – truth be told, he just loves spending time with his girls).  Mom joins us willingly . .  she’s always up for an adventure!

     But first, let me give you a little background and perspective on the place . . .

    My dad’s grandmother, Nonna Rafello, lived at 1333 Columbus Avenue in San Francisco.  She lived at this house as long as my Dad could remember – and she died there as well.  My dad remembers family dinners there (and we even have a picture of him, as a baby sitting on his Mom’s lap at Nonna’s table, surrounded by aunts & uncles).   Nonna was deeply religious – more than likely it had followed her from a strong Catholic upbringing in Sicily – and she went to church every day.  Saints Peter and Paul Church was a 15 minute walk each way, from her house on Columbus and she did this walk religiously every day.  She was married in this church in 1902 and when she died in 1961, her funeral was held there as well. 

    My dad’s Nonno lived there too – but he killed himself – in that same house in 1931.  My dad & his cousins have few memories of him, as he was gone before most of them were born or old enough to remember.  While tragic, no one talked about it much (at least in Dad’s generation) – but it became family legend nevertheless.

    No one is sure just when they bought this house, but according to my review of census records it was sometime in the 1920s.  On the 1920 census, the family is living at 603 ½ Bay Street and they are renting.  By 1930, they are homeowners at 1333 Columbus Avenue.

    Some years back, 1333 Columbus Avenue became an Irish pub & tavern called Fiddlers Green.  My dad & mom, who are fabulous San Francisco tour guides, would sometimes take people by there to see the “old place”.  When they took cousin Carl and his son Nick there a couple of years ago, Amy & I were even more determined to make a trip up there ourselves.  By the way, in Ireland, Fiddlers Green is the place that Irish Fisherman go when they die.  The irony was not lost on us.  Nonno and most of his sons were fisherman out of San Francisco Bay and my ancestry work in Sicily has uncovered a long line of fisherman on both Nonno’s father’s & mother’s sides of the family.

    Note: I’m going to use Nonna & Nonno’s birth names for the rest of this story – as that’s the way I documented them the day of the reading – and honestly, how I’ve come to identify them when I think about and research them.  Nonna was named Calogera (but went by Linda once in America) and Nonno was named Antonino (and went by Tony in America).

     

    I pull up in front of the Fiddlers Green and let my dad out of the car.  Mom & I go to find a parking place so dad can get settled inside the dry pub.  We join dad and he’s explaining to the manager that his family used to live here.  A few minutes later, Amy & Deb arrive.  The manager welcomes us in and apologizes that the kitchen won’t be open until dinner time, but he’s happy to serve us drinks. 

    Mom has brought along some pictures of the family and spreads them out on the table.   Deb picks them up and then puts them back on the table.  She moves them around a bit and starts to look a little distant then she starts talking.  She sees people in this house.  It’s full of people and they’re eating and laughing and talking.  Kids are running everywhere.  Everyone’s happy.

    Deb’s talking quietly & asking questions and Calogera’s the first to come through.  Calogera shares that she knows she has a reputation of not being very nice.  She wants us to know that she wasn’t born this way; it was her life circumstances that made her life the way it was.

    Calogera shares that she went to church every day; she was looking for some comfort, some solace – but shares that it never really changed her behavior.

    The focus shifts to Antonino.  I think Amy or I asked if he was with us too.  Deb confirms that yes, he is.  On dad’s request, Deb asks if he took his own life and he answers (through her) that “he had to end it”.  He shares that he owned money and “they” were going to “work him over”.  As Deb explains this to us, it’s really as if Antonino is speaking “through her”. 

    Antonino shares that he begged Calogera to give him money to repay the debt but that she didn’t believe “they” would really do anything to him.  Despite his repeated requests, she just wouldn’t believe him or give him money.  He claims, she didn’t want to help him out of the situation.

    At one point, my dad asks how they got the money to buy the house and Antonino answers that the funds were from the mob and loan sharks (this is the first & only time these references were used).  We never asked or confirmed whether the money in question was the same loan that led him to take his own life – or other money he may have borrowed for another purpose (given timing of when they bought the house in the 1920’s and his death in 1931, it seems possible it was for the house). 

    He then starts to describe his relationship with Calogera.  He says he understood why she was the way  she was.  He describes her as “miserly with her affection and money”.  He starts to talk about his own circumstances. 

    Antonino talks about how he brought with him “how he was supposed to behave and what he was supposed to do” from Sicily and the culture there.  He says he was involved with “really bad people” and that “it” followed him from Sicily.  His beliefs and how he lived in the America were tied to everything he believed and learned at “home”.  He says he was raised by “loose Catholics”.  He talks about his “people or group” as church going, acting like “good Catholics” but that in life they lived totally different.  When describing those differences he used words like “murder, dishonest & bad behavior”.  At one point, he also mentions that all this led to why he had to change his name – leaving Graffeo behind and adopting Rafello.

    We’d heard from the manager that there had been reports of ghosts in the house.  We assumed it was Antonino since he had killed himself in this house.  Amy asked Deb if Antonino was still there; if he was the ghost.  He quickly responded with “no, I crossed over right away, I’d had enough in life, had no desire to stay there”. 

    What happens next, still gives me goose bumps and raises the hair on the back of my neck.

    While Antonino was not a church-going man in life, as his wife had been, he talked for the next few minutes lovingly of God & what I can only assume is heaven.  It was an amazing story of enlightenment and in my mind, an amazing discovery of true love.  It brings a big smile to my face & heart as I write this next part.

    Antonino says that he could have made other choices in life, but that he didn’t know then what he knows now.  He just did what culture and “his pack” always did.  He says “the purpose of life is to live with lightness and as close to God, with love and oneness”.  Everything he thought and believed was not what’s important at all.   He describes the afterlife as SO wonderful – “zipping around, see who we want, do what we want, and completely different than what we were told it was”.  He sounded happy and as if his time was now about enjoyment and spending time with those you love (my interpretation anyway . . . I guess you had to be there).

    He explains that he hasn’t come back yet because he “isn’t ready and doesn’t want to”.  Surprisingly, he adds “and because Calogera hasn’t crossed over yet”.  Antonino said he wants Calogera to cross over and get some peace.

    The last part of Antonino’s story had us chuckling, as he describes that he probably won’t come back as a Sicilian and “that’s OK”!  Also, he probably won’t come back in an enlightened state.  Again, he seemed OK with that and happy to add another lap to his life journey – one that would have him participate in the teachings that accumulate & evolve to create a status in this life that we call an “old soul”.  At least from my perspective, again that’s how I chose to see it!

    We turn our attention back to Calogera. 

    Deb explains that she’s persistent, loud and wants to be heard.  Deb also tells Calogera is still at the house; she never crossed over at death.

    As with Antonino, it’s as if Calogera is talking “through” Deb.  Deb is reciting Calogera’s words.

    Calogera talks about her childhood, her happy childhood and says that lasted until she was 12 or 13 years old.  She met the love of her life at 11 or 12 and says she didn’t believe her family “would approve” – but she gave her whole heart, love & soul to this person.  Deb listens (to Calogera I assume) and replies that this person in turn “maybe made a different choice & deserted her”.  There was also a feeling that maybe this person was from a “rival” family.

    She starts to talk about her marriage to Antonino and says her family forced and / or arranged the marriage.  She didn’t want it and she didn’t love him.

     

    At this point, I ask Deb to ask Calogera if she knows about the work I’ve been doing on the family and how hard I’ve searched for information on the baby.  The request is met with an icy stare and response from Deb (as what I assume is from Calogera) saying “she doesn’t want to talk about that baby – never has and never will”.  She adds that baby Ignazio is not the love of her life’s child.

    I was pretty startled by the response and felt like I’d overstepped my bounds into a very sensitive area.  I said something like, “I’ll just stop looking” and Deb quickly responded with a serious & quiet message of what felt just for me of “she’s not mad at you for looking”.  I felt a little relieved & comforted.

    At this point, Amy asked if Deb could help Calogera “cross over”.  I voiced my support for that idea, because at this point, I was almost in tears hearing how sad Calogera’s life had been.  I felt so sorry for her and wanted to see the suffering end.

    Deb, Amy & I went upstairs to the 2nd floor of the building.  The manager had told us we could look around as much as we wanted.  He apologized for not being able to show us the 3rd floor where the bedrooms had been, as they’d been turned into small apartments for the staff.  No problem, the 2nd floor was large & spacious and we had dad’s description of the original layout.  The changes included a set of sliding doors that separated the space into front & back areas.  A huge bar flanked one wall and there were a couple of couches set along the other walls.  Amy & I sat down together on the couch across from the bar and waited for Deb to work her magic!

    Deb sat down on the couch under the front window & closed her eyes.  She sat there for about 5 minutes and from time to time, you could hear her ask a question of someone or speak as if she was giving instructions.   We heard a LOUD crash and thought that a number of glass racks had fallen in the big closet behind the bar.  Immediately after, Deb stands up and says “she’s gone”! 

    We get up & start to move downstairs when Amy asks Deb if the crash was Calogera crossing over.  Deb responds “what crash?”  Amy then asks if she’s sure that Calogera has crossed over.  Deb says something like “well, let me see”.  Standing, she closes her eyes and asks the question “who do you serve?”  She asks this a couple more times and then starts to speak in a foreign tongue that neither Amy nor I recognized.  About a minute later she opens her eyes and says, “yep, all gone”! 

    Just like that, Calogera had crossed over.  I can only imagine how happy Antonino was to see her AND have high hopes that she’s found the peace & happiness that she felt as a child.  

    We return downstairs, ask them if they heard the crash (they did) and tell everyone that Deb was successful in helping Calogera cross over.  

    I realized that the pub was pretty empty, except for the manager Ben, and a family of four that had wandered in to escape the rainy weather.  Ben’s curiosity for history on the building was enormous and as with most people, found my mom & dad to be incredibly interesting to listen & talk to.  He would have loved us to stay all day.  We thanked the family of four for being patient with us and they expressed how much they enjoyed listening to the stories – and thanked us for sharing!

    We spent the rest of the afternoon at home, calling both of my dad’s sisters to share the experience.  All agreed, “The Trip to Nonna’s House” had been worth the wait!

     ** See More Notes Below **

    When I started planning our family reunion for October 2018, it seemed fitting that we would hold it at Nonna’s House.  Unfortunately, Fiddlers Green had a small fire in July 2018 and has been closed for repairs since.  Ben, the manager that was there the day we visited, shared his story with me this past summer  . . .

    It was a lousy day outside and I was sure we’d have no business that day.  Business had been pretty slow for months and there were days when it just seemed easier to shut down, rather than stay open to serve a few customers.  It took everything in me to even unlock the doors that day.  Just when I’m thinking of locking up, this polite, old guy sticks his head in the door and asks if we’re open.  I grudgingly say yes and invite him to sit down.  He starts to tell me that his family is on their way and that his grandmother used to own this house.   Ben goes on to explain that that day is one of his favorite days of his life.  He was fascinated by the pictures and the stories and loved talking to all of us – especially my dad & mom (no surprise there).  Ben & I have stayed in touch and he’s looking forward to hosting us for a family gathering in the future.  I’ve promised to bring him some family photos and he’s promised to hang them proudly & prominently in Fiddlers Green!

     

    Some side notes & observations . . .

    When Calogera came to America in 1901, she was 28 years old.  Her immigration record shows that she came with a 10 month old baby, named Ignazio Marino.  That immigration record also shows that she was married.  I’ve subsequently found a census records that states Calogera was first married at 21 (7 years before immigrating) and Antonino at 26 (1 year after immigrating).  If the census is correct, they were both married BEFORE marrying each other: Calogero in Sicily and Antonino after coming to America.  Antonino & Calogera both changed their names in America after getting married (since their marriage certificate shows Antonino’s name in Latin and Calogera’s given name at birth); baby Ignazio became Emilio Marinello (known as Uncle Red to my Dad’s generation).

     

    The family story goes something like this: Calogera was married in Italy and she had a baby (Ignazio) with this husband.  Somehow (war or an accident) the husband died and Calogera & the baby then came to New York (America) in 1901.  Somehow (no one seems to know how) Calogera & the baby made their way to San Francisco, where she met & married Antonino (in 1902) and they had 10 children together.  **We also have no idea of when & how Antonino got from New York to San Francisco OR what name he may have been using after he arrived in 1897. 

    Another story says that Calogera always kept a picture of her first “husband” on the mantle and referred to him as “the love of my life”.  It was always believed and assumed that the father of baby Ignazio was both this first husband and the love of her life. 

    Through my travels & research, I discovered that Calogera & Antonino knew each other in Sicily (in fact, it’s highly likely they grew up together, as they were born & lived in a small neighborhood, just 2 houses apart).  While I successfully obtained birth certificates from City Hall in Sciacca for Antonino & Calogera, I could find NO documents for either Calogera’s marriage or baby, Iganzio’s birth.  I used multiple dates / years in the search, as records for Ignazio (Emilio) in the U.S. show differing dates for his birth.  Still no luck.  **By the way, it was not uncommon in those days for immigrants to have differing dates on naturalization applications, draft cards, marriage records & death certificates (I’ve found plenty of examples).

    My conclusion . . .

    Whether you believe in psychics, the afterlife, or the ability to talk with those that have crossed over – there are some interesting things to consider when you compare:

    ·       The information Deb shared with us that day

    ·       The facts I’ve uncovered through my ancestry work

    ·       The family stories that have been passed down

     1.       More than likely Calogera was never married in Sicily.  I believe baby Ignazio was born at home and was illegitimate.  Calogera was born & lived her early life in a traditional Catholic society that would have frowned upon an unmarried woman giving birth.  The ancestry woman I hired in Sicily said that in those days (late 1800s/early 1900s) Calogera was have been shunned and vehemently told to give the baby up for adoption (or even abandoned on church steps).

    2.       Calogera claimed that she met the “love of her life” when she was 11 or 12 and that her happy life ended at 12 or 13.   She had her first child at 26 or 27 (before coming to America) – the baby could not have been the child of the “love of her life” that she met in her early teens.

    3.       A strong commitment to the church (left over from her upbringing in Sicily) was probably the only thing she felt would give her peace in an unwanted, unplanned life in America.  Her disposition (thought to be hard, unyielding and even unloving to some) is easy to understand if you believe any of the stories she told through the psychic.  Besides, if she really did know Antonino in Sicily – the speed in which they got married after Calogera arrived in America – makes more sense than meeting & falling in love (especially with a child of another man in tow).  I believe she was sent to Antonino by her family.

    4.       There’s always been rumors that the family was involved with the mob.  I think most of the family thought it was kind of a joke – kind of family lore.  After hearing the stories from Antonino through the psychic, I think it makes a lot of sense.  How do you buy a house without help when you arrive in America with $11 to your name (shown on his immigration document)?  Why would the head of a household with 10 children take his own life?  And how would a psychic pick up on so much love for God from a man who rarely attended church in life? 

    5.       The stories gave me a new appreciation for & understanding of Calogera’s life.  As a modern woman, who’s had endless opportunities & choice in life, it’s hard not to feel compassion towards someone that had so little control over her own.  I thank my Great Grandmother for forging a path so those of us after her could thrive.

    6.       And lastly, Antonino’s “enlightenment” was a revelation for me.  One that reinforced my quest for self-learnings to uncover “my best life” and to help me realize that we can always change our direction – we just need to do it when necessary – and believe in ourselves when doing it.   Besides, it’s nice to know if we don’t – that a wonderful afterlife is waiting for us all!

  • This is what 1741 kilometers looks like!

    This is what 1741 kilometers looks like!

    1082 miles (that’s what 1741 kilometers looks like!) – that’s how far I traveled by CAR on this trip. Add another 12,171 miles of airline travel and what I estimate to have been about 200+ miles of walking the streets, fields, farms & museums of Sicily & Italy and I understand why my body is still aching 6 weeks later!  

    I put this little map together so you could get a pictorial view of the trip.  I think it’s pretty impressive to see how much of Sicily I actually did see.  Despite all this driving, there are still so many places I missed.  But luckily, there’s always another trip!

    **Click on the link below to go to a site called “Tripline”.  You’ll see my map and you’ll be able to use the plus & minus keys on the right to drill up & down on the map.  The numbers tie to the descriptive key below the map, so be sure to scroll down as well.  Enjoy!!

  • Arrivederci Sicily!

    Arrivederci Sicily!

    **This cover image is courtesy of my Aunt Shirley, a die-hard SF Giants fan (formerly devoted to the SF 49ers . . . and then,  Joe Montana retired!) who sent me these little “accomplishment” kudos throughout the trip.  

    *****************************************************************

    After 75 hours of pure, unadulterated bliss, I drive out of the gates of Occhipinti for the Catania Airport.  It was an easy drive and the GPS took me north through many small towns.  I discovered that Occhipinti, while remote, was not as far off the beaten path as I had thought.  No worries, I didn’t really need to visit these little places anyway!

    I noticed these 2 little flower heads tucked into my windshield and amazingly, they stayed with me for the entire drive.  I decided they were my Mom & Dad shepherding me safely back home.  I smiled as I took this picture, as Mom had asked me often about the yellow daisies on the hillsides. . . and yet here again, there was a “sign”.

    Finding the airport was easy; finding the rental car lot was ridiculous.  The GPS had completely failed me at this point and I just kept following & trying to read the Italian language signs.  I’ve rented a LOT of cars in my life, from many different airports, and I can honestly say, I’m lucky to have found this one. 

    I unload the car and snap some quick pictures of my “flower shepherds” and Mt Etna – who was still spitting fire & smoke (a full 6 weeks after she started in mid-March).  I felt lucky that she decided not to “blow” completely, while I was visiting Sicily. 

    I walk for about 10 minutes, luggage in tow, to the terminal & find check-in to be a piece of cake.  The gal at the counter is really nice, checks my big suitcase, and tags both my carry-ons.  I’d finally learned to consolidate my belongings into 3 bags!  I head upstairs to security, as I’m dying of thirst & have to go to the bathroom.  The lines are not too long and I’m quickly on the other side after a quick “pat down” by security; the scanners had discovered my titanium fortified hips!  Another gal says, “is this your bag”?  I say, “yes” and she asks if I have marmalade in my bag.  I say no, but you’re welcome to look inside.  She pulls out 2 jars that are wrapped in paper and asks what’s inside.  I start to unwrap one to show her that it’s just pistachio cream and she informs me that I cannot take these on the plane.  She offers to let me go & check them, but it’s been at least 10 minutes since I was downstairs and I’m sure my bag is already on its way to the plane.  I sadly relinquish them to her and say, “I hope you enjoy them” and she says, “I can’t take them, you’ll have to throw them away”.  I almost pull out a spoon to eat them right there – but instead, I get teary eyed and mad! 

    I find a bathroom & wipe my face; then I find a café with gelato.  However, their gelato is only in the form of “popsicles” – but I’m in bad need of some pistachio gelato, so I grab one anyway.  It was the shits! 

    At the gate, I hear a lot of Americans – loud & pretty obnoxious Americans – and I’m getting pretty annoyed.  I’m thinking to myself . . really, this is how my wonderful trip’s going to end?  Throwing out $25 worth of delicious pistachio cream and having people think I’m one of these obnoxious Americans??  I speak only Italian until I’m safely on the plane hoping it will at least set me apart from these obnoxious Americans!

    I sit down next to a nice couple and begin talking with the woman who is afraid of flying.  I assure her all the sounds are normal and her husband is thrilled that I am distracting her.  She asks me about my travels and is so impressed that I’ve done this trip by myself (at least part of it!).  She says she wishes she was that brave and sets a goal that she will travel more in the future; her husband is smiling now!

    Turns out they are with the obnoxious Americans who are a group of about 60 from all over the United States and they all work for Piggly Wiggly.  If you’ve never been to the South, you may not have heard of this chain – but it’s one of the largest grocery chains in the U.S.  Apparently, the founder of Piggly Wiggly is a “local boy made good” from Palermo, Sicily and he put this trip together to reward all the high performers in the company.  The trip sounded amazing and filled with tons of great accommodations, tours, fantastic food & special events.   This couple aside – the rest of them were still obnoxious!

    We arrive in Rome and I collect my bag and mourn my loss of pistachio cream!  I head out for the 10 minute walk to the Rome Airport Hilton (where I had stayed when I arrived 5 weeks earlier) and look for my friend, Francesco at the desk.  He’s not there – but the clerk that checked me in was very nice and I was quickly settled in my room.  It was about 9:30pm, but I’d had nothing but that lousy pistachio popsicle & some peanuts on the plane, so I went downstairs to get some dinner.

    I look forward to “my last meal”!  I order the same salad that I’d had 5 weeks ago, some pasta with clams & mushrooms, and a glass of wine.  They brought that great basket of assorted breads and the bottle olive oil with its handwritten lot number, with the date it was bottled – and I dug in!

    The salad was good, but not quite as outstanding as it had been 5 weeks before (I assumed it had to do with my mood and the fact that I had had so many great meals since to compare it to).  The pasta was downright disappointing.  There was no sign of clams, as they’d taken them out of the shells and just tossed them in; the mushrooms were non-existent.  I ate about half of it – and quit.  The wait staff was sort of sharing service at my table so different servers kept stopping by.  I told a couple of them about my pistachio cream “theft” and asked if they had anything pistachio for dessert.  “How about some pistachio gelato?”  My response: “Perfetto!”

    When dessert arrived, I was sure they had taken pity on me.  Not only was it the largest serving of gelato I had ever seen, it was covered in chopped pistachios.  Who cares what else I ate that night, I was in pistachio gelato heaven.  I ate the entire HUGE serving and went to bed smiling . . and stuffed!

    The next morning, I pack for the last time & head downstairs to check out.  As I come up to the desk, I see my friend, Francesco (see my “27 Hours to Rome” post if you haven’t already read it).  I get in line, but he looks up from what he’s doing and I smile and say “do you remember me?” and he excitedly says, “yes Madam” and waves me over.  We are so excited to see each other and he starts to tell his associate all about my story.  He remembered my long trip over, my Sicilian itinerary and my quest to find some ancestors.  When I told him that I’d found a cousin, he got so excited and wanted to hear the details.  I told him that I had put him in my blog and gave him the URL so he could check it out.  I found out he was over his failed relationship and was already dating (if you saw how cute he was, you’d wouldn’t be surprised at this news . . I’m sorry, I was so distracted that I forgot to take a picture of him for this blog).  We said our good-byes and I headed back to the airport.

    The 10 minute walk back to the terminal was followed by another 15 minutes of walking to get to the gate, after check-in.  Along the way, I stopped for some breakfast and got a fresh OJ and a croissant.  Both sucked!  The duty free shops were plentiful and crowded, but I slipped into one to pick up a few chocolates & cookies for Scott.  A refrigerator case held packages of salumi and at this point, the protein looked pretty good.  I selected a package & went to the counter to pay.

    Five more minutes of walking and I finally arrived at the gate.  I did a little stretching in prep for the long flight & sent some text messages to my new friends.  I hear back from my friends Marty & Lynne (Australia, via Santa Cruz couple) that are in Honduras, but are wondering if I’ve seen their luggage in Rome??  Oh no!  Ana sends a message from Occhipinti that they missed me at breakfast.  After what I’ve eaten this morning, I feel the same way!

    I board and find myself sitting in the middle seats with a guy with a big pack of anti-bacterial wipes.  He hands me one and says we need to clean off all the germs so we won’t get sick and then he takes out all his “comfort gear”.  Once we take off, he puts on his headphones, his eye mask, his neck pillow and pulls a blanket around himself.  He sleeps for most of the flight (and I swear he paid for that middle seat so he’d be comfortable as he slept his way across the Atlantic).  That was absolutely fine with me!!

    They serve lunch and it’s Shepard’s pie – strange choice coming out of Rome!  I’m still hungry, so I pull out the package of salumi and chow down.  Boy, do I love my protein!  About an hour later, the flight attendants come around with ICE CREAM!  It’s vanilla –  and it’s delicious!

    We arrive in Chicago and the customs area is packed.  Multiple announcements come over the loud speaker asking that you identify yourself, if you’ve been on any farms or in touch with any livestock while traveling.  Since I’ve stayed at three agritourism sites and petted more farm animals than I’m sure I remember, I select the button on the declaration screen & get back in line.

    At customs, I quickly tell the officer about my farm stays and he seems completely uninterested.  He asks what I was doing in Sicily, is happy with my response, and waves me through.  I grab my luggage off the carousel and get into another line for the agriculture check point.  I hear an announcement asking all the agriculture officers to report to the desk and I’m sure they’re going to want details about my visits.  However, the officers are just waving people through.  I don’t want to be arrested or detained if I don’t declare the farm stays, so I make sure to proactively stop & tell the officer.  He asks me, “Are your shoes dirty?”  I’m wearing the tennis shoes that I’ve worn almost every day of my trip and I lift up my foot to show him the soles.  Then he asks if I want to have my shoes cleaned.  I ask if he thinks I need to have them cleaned and he says, “they’re your shoes, you have to decide if they need to be cleaned”.  At this point, I decide that he really doesn’t care and frankly, I’m too tired to care either.  So I say, “no, they’re fine” and he waves me through.  Whatever!

    I get on the train to transfer to another terminal for my Alaska Airlines flight and call Amy to check in.  I tell her I’m dying for a hamburger and while I’ve already had 3 meals “today” – it’s only 4pm in Chicago and I won’t arrive in Seattle until 10pm (local time) that night.  8 hours to go before I’m home?  Yep, I’m having meal #4 and the hamburger I’m craving.  After passing through security, I see Publix – a pub that I’ve eaten at many times in the Chicago Airport.  I order their classic burger and an ice tea and am feeling a little punchy at this point (I have to add – it’s like 1am in Rome and I haven’t slept at all).  The burger hits the spot BIG TIME.  I’m full . . and happy!

    I move to my gate and find that the flight is delayed.  It will be at least an hour late.  About an hour & a half later, we’re boarded and off to Seattle.  The flight is full, but uneventful, but I still don’t sleep.  We arrive about an hour late and Scott is patiently waiting at the cell phone lot.  I text him that I’ve got my luggage and he pulls up to the curb with a big smile & a big hug!  We talk all the way home, so still no sleep.  We arrive home , I’m exhausted and ready to sleep. 

    27 Hours to Rome . . . 25 Hours to Home!   **I just realized that rhymes 😊

  • Appreciation

    Appreciation

    Many of you know that I’ve been meditating almost daily for the past couple of years.  My BFF, Sue, turned me onto an application called Headspace – and I’ve been a devotee ever since.  I will hit my 500th day in a row (with no interruptions) next week and I will do it completing a pack called “Appreciation”.  It seemed fitting to do this pack for the 3rd time while I was on this trip.

    Today, Andy (the brain & voice behind Headspace), suggested that we start to write down appreciations, rather than just feel or hear them in our mind.  He says it solidifies the concept in the mind and helps us live with more appreciation in our lives.

    Every day in meditation, I ask myself . . “Who or what do you appreciate most in your life”?  You have to ask this in the 2nd person, like you’re asking someone else, and then just sink into breath & wait for an answer or more importantly, a feeling. 

    I’m starting this post at the end of a 24 hour Good Friday Celebration in Trapani – so it seems particularly apropos so close to Easter and the concept of re-birth (no, I haven’t become religious while in this very devout Catholic country, but some can’t help but sink in)

    So here’s my list . . . . .

    My sister, Amy.  She not only knows when and how to give a pep talk, she does it without making me feel guilty or questioning my choices.  She knows where to direct my energy when I’m faltering and reminds me to watch for signs from the universe that help put me back on track.

    Time!  It’s amazing that my life choices & journey to this point have availed me an incredible gift of time.  Time to reflect, time to enjoy, time to think, time to experience.  Thank you, time.

    My body, especially my feet!  I remember the pain I felt before my hip surgeries and how hard it was to get back in shape.  I also remember traveling at other times in my life that I haven’t been in as good of shape as I am now – physically and/or mentally – and it was hard.   While I’m tired as I come to the end of my 4th week of this 5 week trip, I truly appreciate my body for sticking with me and carrying me through.  My feet get a special badge of appreciation for carrying me SO many miles as I’ve explored cities, ancient ruins, wharfs, waterfronts & beaches.

    My husband, Scott.  I appreciate that you recognized how badly I needed to come here, even though you probably didn’t understand why.   Thank you for holding down the fort & taking care of our big, old, needy house!  And of course, for your patience with the time zone differences so we could stay connected on the new phone & amp-ed up international plan that you gave me!! 

    My parents.  For every email, every conversation, and every check-in that are all filled with unconditional excitement & support for all that I’m doing.   Your enthusiasm is infectious and fuels me on!

    Friends you meet while traveling.  My new friends, Vincenzo & Shelia, from Liverno, Tuscana (Liverno is a beach town south of Pisa in Tuscany) welcomed me to their table on the boat, spent the day trying hard to communicate with me in broken English / Italian and invited & treated me to dinner.  I appreciate their friendship & the memories of a wonderful Easter Sunday in Sicily!

    Gelato!  How can you not appreciate something that so innocently makes you smile & say “yum” at the same time.  I appreciate gelato SO much, that’s I’ve taken to following my mom & Scott’s example and often having it more than once a day!  Brava!!

    Tuna, but only if it’s fished & canned in Sicily AND packed in really, good Sicilian olive oil!  I went to the Museo Tonno on Favignana (Tuna Museum on the beautiful island of Favignana off of Trapani) and saw how the tuna were fishedup until 10 years ago.  These fishermen were craftsmen & dedicated to their traditional ways.  I will never look at a can of tuna the same way.  If you want to learn more about this extraordinary process. . check out

    A Health Food Bar in Trapani.  Today, I’m not feeling that great.  I’m a little tired of eating pasta every day and my stomach’s a little wigged out from too much sugar (gelato & pastries every day DOES catch up eventually).  What could be better than a fresh salad and yogurt with fruit for dessert all prepared by a family from France?  They even spoke English!  Today – I appreciate that you can find a little fresh light food, just when you need it, amidst all this wonderful rich Sicilian food.

    Young men who’s mamma’s raised them right!  Today, I moved from a 3nd floor room in Trapani to a 2nd floor room in Noto.  I won’t even elaborate on the details of getting into these rooms – but suffice to say there were a LOT of stairs & really, uneven cobblestone streets.  I appreciate both Paolo & Salvo who happily & gallantly carried my bags to & from the car.  Maybe they were taking pity on an old gal – but I’m pretty sure it had more to do with their Sicilian Mamma’s – who raised them right!

    Ear Plugs.  Always carry them with you when you travel.  You never know how many dogs might stay up all night barking or how early the stone breaking construction will begin in the morning.

    A Good Lavanderia.  These little gems have kept my clothes clean & smelling fresh during the entire trip.  The staff never seems to speak enough English, my Italian tutor & I didn’t practice the phrases to ask for wash & dry only, and I never do get a ticket for pick-up (one of the few “trust me” systems in Sicily) – but I always seem to get all my clothes back, when promised, for a really good price!

    Headspace – my meditation program.  I’ve been mediating now for the better part of 2 years and today, I hit my 500th day in a row.  I appreciate Headspace today & every day for helping me to get focused & unplug from whatever is happening in my day / life.  The feeling of “centering”, even if it’s just 20 minutes, creates a happy place for me each day.

    Hearing & speaking the English language throughout an entire dinner!  Yep, new friends from California, joined me for dinner and we spoke English-American with a little Aussie thrown in, and it was wonderful!  After almost 5 weeks of “trying” to speak Italian, I appreciate the English language more now than I ever have.

    A really comfortable bed.  When you’re away from home, you often think about your own bed.  When you’re away this long, you just hope you’ll be able to get “some” sleep on the weird sheets, in a strange room, in a place with unusual noises.  But when you get to a place that has a bed that’s so scrumptious that you think about foregoing tourist things for the day and just staying in that bed – well, that’s true, unadulterated appreciation for sure!

    The GPS.  I know, I know, I’ve done my fair share of bitching about the GPS – but today, I appreciate it more than I can say.  I appreciate the fact that it brought me right to coordinates N 37 00.321 / E 14 33.005 (even if instinctively it felt like it was taking me on a wild ride).  Without GPS, I have NO idea how I would have found this place, even with a detailed map!

    Italian Cooks!  Because all they really want to do is feed you.  All I said was, “where is a restaurant where I can get some lunch”?!?  She smiles & says, I’ll make you some bruschetta & formaggi.  I appreciate a woman that just wants to be sure you get enough to eat.  What I assumed would be a snack was 4 huge rounds of mozzarella with tomatoes & greens; thin slices of smoked salmon dressed with lemon sitting on greens; two kinds of bruschetta, plus grilled bread slices; fresh bread; salami pistachios; 2 kinds of hard cheese; fresh fruit salad; and a beautiful piece of cake!  Enough said.  My heart swells when I think of Federica!

    Agritourism.  What a marvelous invention.  Take an old farm or villa or winery – restore it to its original (or better) grandeur and turn into a magnificent vacation destination.  Include: cozy (and often upscale) rooms, amazing food, free-flowing wine, great surroundings, peace & quiet, and a bunch of cute animals and wow, have you created nirvana!  Extra points if your family has owned the place for generations and there’s really good stories to share.  And guaranteed, a rating of 10 on booking.com or airBnB.com, if you & your staff provide such a great experience that the guests don’t want to leave and cry when they do!!!  I stayed at 3 of these establishments in Sicily and I’d go back to any of them in a heartbeat.

    Europeans.  Bless these wise & worldly people!  They know better than we, that America is the greatest & most resilient democracy in the history of the world – and while they don’t like Trump’s outbursts or policies, they know that this is just a blip in our amazing legacy & strength as a nation.  Plus: listening to Germans, Swiss, Macedonian & Dutch citizens talk about the French election affirmed my belief that we are all citizens of the world – not just a single nation.

    Pistachio Gelato!  I truly don’t know if God invented gelato or even guided someone here on earth to do it – BUT – it is the single best food on the planet.  Made with those Bronte pistachios and really, really good milk, it can truly transform your day (if not your life)!  Truly!!

    A good rental car.  I had two different cars on this trip and together they carried me safety & dependably from Rome to every corner of the island of Sicily.  It would not have been the same trip had I done on trains or planes. 

    Sherine.  My old college friend who agreed to accompany me on the first 2 weeks of this trip.  She truly allowed me to plan the trip of my dreams and was more than happy to go anywhere and do anything that I wanted to.  She never complained, supported my crazy quests to find the Sclafani Palazzo in Palermo, served as my co-pilot & GPS programmer, and helped me build the confidence to do the additional 3 weeks on my own.  

    Sicily . . oh Sicily – how I appreciate your landscape, your harbors, your people, your food & wine, your hospitality and all the glory of the history that has shaped you into the most amazing place that I have ever been. 

    And lastly . . . thank you to my paternal great grandparents, Calogera Sclafani & Antonino Graffeo, for immigrating to the United States.  I would not be here, nor would I have had the amazing opportunity or the desire to visit Sicily, if you’d not presented me with a story to explore.  I appreciate the sacrifices you must have made and the hardships you must have endured to give all of us Rafello’s – a chance to be.

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    **Footnote:  This post was started sometime during week 4 of my trip.  I continued to add to it after I got home and finished with this last entry today, June 7th.  This morning I hit 547 consecutive days in my meditation practice and a have racked up 749 sessions, totaling 221 hours over the past 2 years.  It’s changed my life in many ways – maybe most importantly in the area of Appreciation.  I know how special my life is, how fortunate I am, and how loved I am – and I plan to never take those things for granted. 

  • Heaven in the Sicilian Countryside

    Heaven in the Sicilian Countryside

    I leave Noto on Friday morning after another amazing breakfast spread put out by Salvo and lots of hugs from Lynne & Marty.  The GPS does its thing and takes me on a wild ride through the city center and then directs me to go northeast when I know I need to go southwest.  I turn myself around and of course, the GPS recalculates – finally – after telling me 3 times to make a U-turn.  Whatever, I’ve studied where I’m going, and I’m right!

    My next & last stop before returning to Rome is a luxury wine resort outside of Ragusa.  The Ragusa region is currently “the” food capital of Sicily with it’s amazing farms & artisan products.  I plan to hit the beach one day, go into Ragusa another, and want to see Modica (for both the architecture & the unique chocolate that everyone raves about) while I’m in the area.  I decide on a whim to hit Modica on the way and program the GPS to the city (but no specific “place” in the city). 

    On the way, the countryside is gorgeous.  Not only is everything in full bloom, but this area of Sicily is heavy with stone walls.  I see hundreds of miles of stone walls . . it looks like they were not only used for property delineation, but for pasturing animals and cording off orchards & vineyards.  I think about the thousands of men that must have been required to move all this stone & build all these walls and hope that they were not slaves.  These walls have held up for thousands of years and are still in use today for both “working” and decorative purposes.  They’re not especially tall (maybe 3 or 4 feet), but really beautiful and effective.

    The hill city of Modica comes into view as I round the bend and I see a sign that say “Upper” Modica and I decide to defy the GPS (who had me on a course for “Lower” Modica) and I turn right & head up the hill.  The architecture was calling me – but I found instead a bunch of very narrow, one-way streets and not much commercialism – just lots of residential places (old houses, tenements, new apartments & piazzas) and I realize the GPS was right this time.  I should have gone straight to “Lower” town.  By this time, the GPS has re-calculated the route and I’m winding all over town trying to get to its chosen destination.  Not so fun!  I seem to be getting more indifferent to this town and not sure I really care of I go at all and finally arrive at a parking area that has a ton of tour buses unloading.  I decide to drive a bit further and see what’s here and amazingly, I’ve arrived at the historic center of town.  I drive through and see little parking, but a lot of tourists.  I decide, “heck, I’ll come back another day when I’m a little more enthusiastic” and continue out of town.  Within 10 minutes I am in “no where land” and there is nothing but a few gas stations along the road.  I’ve now programmed the GPS to take me directly to the coordinates that I’ve been given, as Baglio Occhipinti, the luxury wine resort, is definitely off the beaten path.  I decide to wait to get something to eat (and load up on snacks, since I was basically out and didn’t buy in Noto) until after I check in – so I continue on.  Surprisingly, the GPS takes me right to the front gate of Occhipinti and I am thrilled – there IS NO WAY I would have found this place without the GPS.  NO WAY!  I’m serious & certain!!

    I buzz the desk and they open the gate for me.  I drive about ¼ mile up towards “the house” and park the car.  I don’t leave for the next 75 hours.  Yes really, 75 hours!!!

    Occhipinti was to be my last splurge and this place far exceeded every expectation I had for it!  I had seen only 9.5+ to 10 scores for this place on both Booking.com and the Italian Agritourism site – but a 20 would not do this place justice.  This IS, WAS, WILL ALWAYS be my definition of Heaven on Earth, Nirvana, and the place where I would be happy to be when I die!!!  Perfection, beauty, complete zen . . . may everyone get a chance to visit this place at least once in their lifetime (but tell no one, as we don’t want the secret to get out or the place to fill up so we can’t get in!).

    I spent the next 3 days enjoying the company of new friends, walking & photographing the property, cooking with the chef, eating amazing Sicilian food, drinking really good wine (lots of it – I wasn’t driving after all), meditating, sleeping late (rare for me) and just loving my final days in sunny, warm, beautiful Sicily.

    Now if you remember. . I was starving when I arrived.  I asked if there was a restaurant close by that I could get some pranzo (lunch).  Federica said she’d prepare me a snack.  The details of that “snack” are both memorialized in pictures, as well as in my “Appreciation” post.  I will never forget that meal – never!  It satisfied me on every sensory level and Federica’s kindness & service was unforgettable.  That was the first of many wonderful meals at Occhipinti and I found each was so delicious & generous that I needed no snacks (good thing, as I didn’t have any).  However, the kitchen was happy to make lunch if you wanted it and you could get their delicious homemade yogurt with honey & fruit any time of day.

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    Later in the afternoon, I met Myra.  A 13 year old German teenager who blew my socks off.  Her perfect English, her maturity, her sweetness, her friendliness, and her love of cats – this kid was the complete package.  For the next 2 days, I don’t think I saw Myra or her sister, Clara, without either Carlo or Camia (adorable little orphan kittens who were heavily spoiled & photographed by us all) on their laps.  Later that night, I met their parents, Claudia & Patrick.  The staff had set the tables for dinner by family . . one for my new German friends, another for an American family of three, and a single table for little old me.  I laughed out loud and said, “I guess I’m eating over here” as we were called to dinner and Claudia promptly started picking up the cutlery & glassware and said, “no you are not, you are eating with us”.  I fell in love with this woman immediately!  We laughed & drank wine until about midnight – and the girls stayed and talked and played nanny to the kittens until “the mean old lady in the kitchen” (Myra’s description) took the kittens away and put them in their box for the night.

    The next morning, we all convened in the garden for a big breakfast.  Claudia kept saying “wait until you see what’s next”.   She was right, the food just kept coming.   5 courses later (including dessert) I was stuffed.  We stayed at the table chatting & laughing until about noon – and I needed a nap.  The girls stayed back & cuddled the kittens and Claudia & Patrick went to the beach.  We had talked Fausta (the owner) and the chef (Sebastiano) into a cooking class for Claudia, the girls & me – so we all met in the kitchen about 5pm to start dinner.  Sebastiano poured wine for Claudia & me and we all started making pasta.  This new hand rolled & cut shape was labor intensive and we were at it for over an hour when Fausta’s Dad came in & scoldedthe chef; apparently he wasn’t teaching us correctly.  He then spent time showing us how to more efficiently roll & cut the pasta and the process sped up considerably.  Clara finished up the pasta and the rest of us moved to the sauce & main course.  We made this really unique red sauce with the leaves from the zucchini plant sautéed and folded into the sauce.  Delicious!  Then we rolled slices of think pancetta (unsmoked Italian bacon) around medallions of pork tenderloin and pan fried them in rosemary-infused olive oil.  Then we made a really, really, REALLY tasty apple & butter sauce to go with the pork.  We finished off the bottle of wine & waited for Sebastiano to pull together the rest of the meal. 

    That night, the place was full.  By this time, the staff knew that I had been adopted by the Hoffmanns and set my place at their table.  Four other tables were set for the other guests.  Our food, with a few additional items added by Sebastiano, was served & devoured by all, over the next few hours.  Of course, the wine never stopped flowing.  A couple from New Orleans was seated at the table next to us.  She was very nice; he was exceptionally obnoxious.  He used the f-word in every sentence – sometimes more than once in a sentence.  I think they drank 3 bottles of wine between the 2 of them and you could tell it was affecting him, even though he kept saying it wasn’t!

    The girls took it upon themselves to play hostess and went around to all the tables (with kittens in hand) to ask if everyone enjoyed their dinner.  They were met with lots of positive affirmations and proudly shared that they had cooked dinner that night.  It was too cute!   Claudia made a quick trip to the bathroom and stopped by the last seated table to say hi.  She came back and told me that “she was very nice, but he’s kind of full of himself”.   The Hoffmanns were due to leave early the next morning – so Claudia reminded me that “these people” were to be my breakfast companions the next day and it just wouldn’t be the same!!

    We stayed at the table drinking wine & talking about the girls coming to America for exchange programs.  Myra tried SO hard to teach me some German and while she was patient, I just sucked at the pronunciation of their complicated guttural sounds.  I fell in love with that family that night and told them they would forever be welcome in America.  They invited me to come to Dusseldorf and assured me they’d set up a great tour to see northern Germany when I do.  I shared my theory of speed limit signs in Sicily with them.  I am sure that the business of making, selling & installing them rests with the Mafia.  On average, I would say there is a sign every 100 feet on the autostradas and that they are all in conflict with each other!  I challenged the Hoffmans to count 100 signs the next morning and report back on the distance they travelled while counting them.  We all laughed, hugged good-bye and promised to see each other again.  Sadly, they left the next morning before I got up.

    Breakfast that morning started with the couple from New Orleans (lucky me I was seated at the other end of the table) and a nice couple from Switzerland.  About 2 courses in, “the nice lady & full of himself man” sat down at the other end of the table.  Ana (originally from Macedonia) and Art (from Holland) lived in Amsterdam.  They owned a high end clothing company and while they travel frequently to Italy for business, they were at Occhipinti on a much needed holiday and had booked for only 2 nights.  I loved them both the minute they started speaking.  So wise, so kind, so worldly!    **I later texted Claudia and told her they were actually both really cool and that we needed to do a girl’s weekend with Ana.  They’re both all in and we’re going to try to make that happen in Amsterdam next year.

    I spent the rest of the day & night with Ana (Art joined us for dinner).  We talked & talked, cuddled the kittens (the girls were gone, so someone had to do it!), did yoga, meditated and talked some more.  We dressed for dinner (yes, you do that in Sicily) and ate & drank for hours.  The next morning over breakfast there was a lively and intelligent discussion on the French election which parlayed into a full on discussion of the historical & political climate of all of Europe.  Fascinating! 

    I asked the chef to prepare a late lunch for Art, Ana & me – my treat – that we could enjoy before I left that afternoon.  I told them this was in lieu of a “Kari prepared meal” that I promised to make for them when they come visit the United States.  Unfortunately, New Orleans guy, sort of barged in & started drinking wine.  For some reason, Art was under the impression that this guy was treating us to wine (though I had ordered & paid for a bottle) – but I didn’t bother to correct him – we could always get another bottle.  We generously, but somewhat awkwardly, shared our lunch with them.  All good – it was lovely; Sebastiano had done it again!

    I loaded my stuff in the car and went to say good bye to the staff & Fausta.  I thanked them for a spectacular stay and promised I would be back.

    I found Ana & Art relaxing in the garden.  I hugged Art good-bye and Ana & I walked arm in arm to the car.  We hugged good bye and assured each other we’d meet again. 

    Two amazing women found at one amazing place.  Yes, Occhipinti exceeded all my expectations. 

    And you know what?  If the place was for sale . . I’d buy it in a New York minute!

    **Footnote:  I’ve had some great email & text exchanges with the Hoffmans & Ana since leaving Sicily.  I am certain a trip to northern Europe is in my future. 

    Clara Hoffman reported that they did indeed count the speed limit signs on the way to the Palermo Airport.  She said that they counted 25 in 25 kilometers – which weren’t quite as many as I suspected – but she assured me it was definitely a sign of Mafia involvement! 

    Ana later reported that she & Art had determined that 2 nights at Occhipinti were simply not enough.  Fausta had managed to accommodate them for 3 more nights, though they had to keep moving rooms, and one room had only a single bed.  Regardless, Ana would have stayed the remaining week of their trip at Occhipinti.  Art said it was time they ventured off the property.  Like me, they too had not left the grounds of Occhipinti during the entire duration of their stay!  

  • Noto – Food or Cement?

    Noto – Food or Cement?

    I’d read all about Noto – considered one of the great food regions of Sicily – I had to go.  This would be my 2nd to the last stop before leaving Sicily and I decided to make it all about food.

    The drive from Trapani took close to 5 hours, but I managed to avoid most of the road construction that I kept running into over the prior weeks.  I stopped outside of Palermo to go to the bathroom and loaded up on water, some potato chips & a big, old candy bar.  Paolo had packed up some of those yummy Trapanese sandwiches so I thought this assortment would get me through the day.  Not!  Around 1pm and at least 2 hours from Noto, I was starving.  I stopped at one of those great Italian Auto Grills (highway rest stop) and found a hot bar.  They were grilling up steaks & pork chops – and my excitement for meat took over all rational.  I asked for a pork chop with roast potatoes & sautéed spinach.  What a MAJOR disappointment, as the meat had not even been seasoned with salt & pepper and the same seemed true for the vegetables.  A VERY disappointing start to my “all about food” three days in Noto (well, at least I hadn’t arrived in Noto yet!).

    Two hours later I arrive in Noto and the GPS seems to be doing a great job of getting me to where I need to go.   I had communicated with the B&B host earlier and he told me to program in a Piazza near the B&B.  My last turn instruction was a one way street – going the wrong way – so I had to alter my route and the GPS decided to not help me out.  After a couple of attempts “to circle” the area, I gave up & called the host.  He asked me what street I was on and said to stay put, he would come get me.  About 3 minutes later, Salvo, arrived to save the day.  He introduced himself, jumped in the passenger’s seat and guided me to the “Piazza” to park.  At this point, it’s prudent to mention that even if the GPS had not steered me off course, I probably would not have found “the piazza”.  This was like no piazza I’ve ever seen.  It was really more like a hill with 7 or 8 parking spots – no square, no signs, no way!! 

    Salvo, being the well raised Sicilian man that he is, grabbed my big bag & my carry-on and starting walking down the hill.  I followed and we made our way past the piazza and down a flight of old, cobblestone – and quite steep – stairs.  About ½ way down, we stop in front of this gorgeous, red, blooming bougainvillea and a pretty cool door to the B&B.  Inside, it just go better!

    Turns out Salvo and his partner, Nico, had bought the place 4 years prior and completely renovated it.  They left a ton of the old architecture, most notably the tile floors, and added a ton of modern touches.  Turns out Salvo was in advertising and Nico was in fashion and they both lived & studied in Florence & Milan and fell in love with Noto on a vacation and pretty much bought the place on the spot.  Salvo runs the B&B and still does advertising from home; Nico’s an interior designer.  Their aesthetic taste – beautiful!!!  The pictures I took do not do this place justice – it is super cool & really gorgeous.  The kitchen alone should wine some awards.  You can see 2 pictures of the old floor that they kept under the huge island and my breakfast spread on the island in my photo gallery.  My suite was spectacular – incredible bed, huge shower with rain showerhead and a great view of the Mediterranean (about 3 miles away).

    After I settled in, I asked Salvo to show me on the town map where the 3 best restaurants were.  He asked if I cared how much they cost and I said no – after all, this was to be the “food focused” part of my trip and I was going to enjoy it.  He ranked them in reverse order . . in other words, I would hit third best on night 1, second best on night 2 and save the best for last!

    Night 1 – Restaurant #3 – VICARI

    Tuesday night and I’m of course hitting the restaurant pretty early.  I find Vicari’s sign at the entrance to a small alley and go inside.  I ask if they have a table and of course, they do.  I’m the 2nd guest in, as the only other table seated is a couple with a baby girl (maybe a year old, but she wasn’t walking yet).  The waiter hands me the menu – it’s in Italian only – and I am determined to read this thing and order without help.

    I find a yummy sounding appetizer with asparagus and a poached egg . . . and I’m in.  The main course gives a bit more pause, but I select a dish that sounds pretty good with shrimp.  I order a glass of white wine & a bottle of water and start to enjoy the bread & bread sticks that they’ve brought over . . . and then things get comical!!

    This 30-something man is seated next.  He orders and then immediately goes to work on his phone!  He continues “working” throughout his meal – taking small breaks only when his food is served.

    An Italian couple is seated in front of me and they go into a pretty long discussion with the waiter – about EVERYTHING.  Wine, food, the weather, what they ate for breakfast, the names of their children  . . . honestly, I don’t know what they were really talking about but they sure were manipulating the wait staff’s time!

    My appetizer arrives and it’s beautiful & delicious, but kind of lukewarm.  A couple of points off for that!

    Then a German couple is seated and I have a great view of them & their table.  She is gorgeous, I would guess about 45 years old has this great smile & bright, red lipstick.  I catch her eye a few times and she smiles & seems friendly.  Her partner is about 75 and seems worldly and kind.  They take a lot of time to scrutinize the wine menu and end up ordering 2 different wines.  The waiter pours them some tastes and he ends up asking for something else.  Of course, he’s quickly accommodated – it’s that kind of restaurant.

    My appetizer is cleared (I didn’t complain about the lack of heat!) and a family of four is seated right next to me – and they are American.  I enjoy hearing English, but more so, the banter of these two teenage girls & their parents.  They neither speak, nor read any Italian – so they are struggling with the menu.  I’m just about to offer my assistance when the waiter comes over and the mother asks for help.  Believe it or not – the waiter ends up going over the ENTIRE menu with them in DETAIL.  This takes about 10 minutes . . I gotta say, this guy is REALLY patient.  First the Italians, now the Americans!!   

    The girls really just want pasta with red sauce (keep in mind, this is NOT the kind of place that has this simple type of food – but the waiter says he’ll ask the chef to improvise something – which he “kind of” does – but it’s not quite what they girls wanted – but they end of eating most of it anyway). 

    I also have noticed that a lot of the tables are playing with their “ambiance light”.  This is a light stick of sorts that somehow balances on the table and has a ball at the top for light.  They must have been battery operated, as they were turning them on by twisting them at the end when tables were seated (mine was lit before I sat down).  Little did the waiter that sat the American family know – but the waitress that was working the floor with him had traded the American’s light with the German couple’s light – because the German’s wasn’t working.  This of course made for an interesting obsession by the Americans and their waiter to try to get this thing working.  I could have stepped in to help clear that mystery, but frankly it was more fun to watch!

    All this time, the original couple with the baby are in full “baby entertaining” mode – as this child has definitely hit her patience with “sitting at a table in a nice restaurant, waiting for my parents to eat 4 courses, dessert bribes won’t do it” LIMIT!  She’s up, she’s down, she’s climbing, Mom takes her outside, Dad takes her outside, food keeps arriving, they even order dessert just for the baby and it arrives and it’s TOO fancy . . . they really just want gelato for her.  But they say, it’s OK, leave it and we’ll eat it later (I think they were British, but I wasn’t close enough to hear all of the conversation).

    My entrée arrives and it’s a bit of surprise.  I realize I don’t actually read Italian only menus as well as I thought.  There’s one prawn on the plate and a bunch of fish coasted in bread crumbs.  The fish is strong, there’s 2 different kinds, and I’m sure one is mackerel (one of the oiliest & strong flavored fish you can get).  The sauce is really good, as are the vegetables and I make myself enjoy it all – after all, I’m in Sicily in a fancy restaurant, so no complaints.

    I pass on dessert (can’t remember why at this point) and ask for my check.  About that time the German man gets up to go to the bathroom at the precise moment that the kitchen drops something big and there’s a huge crash.  The man looks around, both startled & embarrassed and the pretty German woman & I catch each other’s eyes and just start laughing out loud!  He collects himself & heads out to do his business; the woman & I just keep smiling & giggling!!

    I start to walk back to the B&B and realize I’ve turned up the wrong stairway – I’m one block over from where I’m supposed to be.  The stairway covers 4 city blocks uphill, so I turn at the 2nd  street to make my way over to the right one.  Big mistake!!  Three very mean, very loud dogs come barking and they want to eat me!  Their owner comes out and grabs the biggest one & then another and is screaming at both them & me.  It seems that there is no way to exit to the other street from this crossover and the dogs know better than I, that this is not a thoroughfare and I had better not even try to get through.  My heart is still beating fast & hard when I arrive back at the B&B. 

    VICARI . . . Rating: 7 for food; 11 for entertainment!

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    The next day, I decide to explore the town.  Noto is called the City of Cement, but the architecture is Baroque and it’s amazing – so the cement thing is kind of easy to overlook.  Besides, the churches are INCREDIBLE.  As I’ve said before, you’d think I’d become religious with all the time I spent in churches on this trip – but the art is absolutely mind boggling and you really can’t help but gawk!

    It’s laundry day – so I need to find a lavenderia.  Salvo has no recommendations, as he uses a commercial one outside of town for all of his B&B linen.  I find one on the internet and walk about 12 minutes to find it.  The lady is nice and since my Italian pertaining to laundry has gotten better we agree on delivery tomorrow at a per garment cost; she even counts my dirty underwear!

    I spend the day shooting pictures, climbing lots of stairs to church roofs and bell towers and alternating with little naps back at the B&B (all that hill & stair climbing is exhausting).  Gelato & pastry are fortifying and I’m pretty sure I missed lunch that day.  I forgot to mention that I was the only one at the B&B that first day and Salvo put out this amazing spread just for me.  I ate quite a bit of breakfast, probably why I could forgo a formal lunch!

    That night I decide to hit Salvo’s next restaurant recommendation.

    Night 2 – Restaurant #2 – MASSUMO

    I’m the first to arrive that night and they can easily accommodate me!  It’s a pretty space and Salvo told me that the chef & owner is the mother of the chef at the place I’ll be eating at tomorrow night.

    Tonight the menu is both in Italian & English, and the choices are plentiful and there are so many dishes I’d like to try.  Tonight, I go all out and order FOUR courses.  I also drink 2 glasses of wine, a liter of water and a grappa (I’ll save that little tale for later).

    Next seated – a 2-top of young lovers.  These two could not keep their hands off of each other and kept kissing.  I’m sure they were on their honeymoon.

    My antipasti arrives and it’s the BEST octopus I’ve ever had in my life.  Michael Chiarello’s at Coqueta in San Francisco comes close – but this was truly the best.  Tender, flavorful, plentiful and served on creamy potatoes.  Yum, yum!

    The restaurant is busy up and no one seems to have a reservation.   The 2-tops & 4-tops are filling up fast and I realize this is a pretty popular place – mostly locals I believe, as the town wasn’t very crowded with tourists that day in the off-season.  Just across from me they seat this family of 4.  The mother is Asian and is speaking English to the two boys who are about 7 & 8 (maybe a little older, but I’d bet not).   The Dad is going between English & Italian (with the waiter AND the boys) and they are all (including the boys) very smartly dressed.  The father & boys all were wearing scarves around their necks tied in that European fashion (Scott could teach you how to tie them like this – as he learned in Paris!) and before sitting down, they all pulled them off and neatly draped them over their chairs.  I realize these kids are VERY well behaved and have VERY sophisticated palates.  They are excited about the grilled swordfish and both start with orange & onion salads.  They even eat European style with knife & fork for all bites AND have great table manners.  Far cry from what I witnessed the night before with the two American teenagers!

    My primi arrives: Parpadelle with artichokes, fennel & prawns – pretty tasty indeed.  

    The last table to be seated seems to be a reservation that the wait staff has been waiting for.  I think they were regular and/or special customers and were celebrating something big.  I hadn’t seen this much food at a table during the whole trip – but thinking back this is what most people would consider “quintessential Italian eating” if they were to see it.  Platters of food just kept coming and the wine never stopped flowing.  Wish I could have joined them!

    It’s course #3 – I’ve skipped the secondo and gone straight to salad.  Have I mentioned I’m getting quite used to the salad coming after the meal?  It really is refreshing & cleanses the palate – setting you up for dessert.  I had the same orange & onion salad that the boys had – delicious.  Can’t go wrong with anything citrus in Sicily – it’s SO good!

    They offer dessert & I’m all in.  I decide on a ricotta tart with dried fruit.  Now, I’ve mentioned in previous posts that the ricotta over here is sheep’s milk and IT IS SO MUCH BETTER than the crummy, tasteless cow’s milk stuff we get in America.  I make a mental note: Gotta find some sheep, gotta find some sheep’s milk ricotta when I get home!  I kept noticing all these attractive bottles of liquor on the front bar and asked the waiter what they were.  Grappa – in various varietals.  I decide I must have one – so I select the one made of moscato grapes (one of my favorite dessert wines).  WOW – have I forgotten the grappa Scott & I had in Greece!  This stuff cleans out the pipes and will get you high in 2 seconds flat. It reminds me of moonshine (not that I recall ever drinking moonshine, but I can imagine).  I try to get it down, but I just can’t – but I don’t want to have to try to explain to the waiter what a horrendous mistake I’ve made, so I look around to see if anyone’s looking – and I pour about ½ of it onto my cake.  I think that might minimize the nose-clearing effect – but I’m wrong again.  Thank God I poured it on one part of the cake only – so I simply ate around it and left a little bit of grappa soaked cake for the dishwasher.  Problem solved – kind of!

    I ask for the check and waddle out the door.   After all that food, 2 glasses of wine & a liter of water, I’ve forgotten to go to the bathroom.  The last half of the walk back to the B&B was a little uncomfortable – but at least I turned up the “right” flight of stairs!

    MASSUMO . . . Rating: 9+ for food; 10 for wine; -1 for grappa!

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    The next morning I go down to breakfast.  Salvo has put out another awesome spread, and someone is speaking English.  I turn the corner and see a nice couple and say, “wow, you’re speaking English”.  They introduce themselves as Marty & Lynne from Australia.   Come to find out Marty’s American and while Lynne’s Australian, they’ve met in California, worked in Silicon Valley and lived & raised their family in Santa Cruz!  They moved to Australia to help care for Lynne’s father a few years back.  They’re excited to hear I’m from Half Moon Bay and want to hear all about my travels through Sicily.  We spend about an hour & half talking with Salvo trying to listen in to our quick & funny English!

    I give Lynne & Marty some suggestions of places to explore and take off to pick up my laundry.   Before going downtown though, I go farther “up the hill” to check out a church that Salvo said I must see and see if I can make a reservation for dinner at Crocifisso (a Michelin rated, but not starred restaurant) – the best in town according to Salvo.  I run into Lynne & Marti a few blocks from the Lavenderia and mention I’ve made this reservation and ask if they’d like to join me.  Lynne’s quick to say yes, but Marty asks if they can check out the menu & get back to me.  Of course!  I go on my way.  I pick up the laundry and stop by a famous little café (Caffe Costanzo) for a piece of pistachio & chocolate cake and it does NOT disappoint.  (The day before I’d stopped into the other famous pasticceria in town called Café Sicilia which is supposed to be the rival of Pasticceria Maria in Erice for the best pasticceria in Sicily).  Now that I’ve eaten at all 3 – I’d have to say Caffe Costanzo was the best.  So much for travel guides!

    I hit a few more churches & climb up some VERY narrow steps to a bell tower.  I have to stop for traffic coming down on my way up and am warned to hurry up as the bells are expected to start chiming in 10 minutes.  I make it to the first landing & decide that’s far enough as I have to maneuver back down those very narrow steps.  Besides, I’m starting to get hungry. 

    I stop at a little street café to have some lunch and enjoy a rustic antipasti plate with some of the best eggplant I’ve ever tasted.  What do these Sicilians do to eggplant to make it taste SO good??  I have to find out.  As I’m enjoying this little spread, Marty comes out of the restaurant (I was eating at an outside table) and says they’ve left me a message at the B&B and they’d love to join me for dinner!  Yeah, English speaking companions for dinner.  I get a call from Scott about some business stuff and then tour an old villa / palace at the center of town.  I return to the B&B and have a little nap before showering for dinner.

    Night 3 – Restaurant #1 – Crocifisso (Ristorante of the Sacred Cross)

    We arrive at 8pm and are NOT the first ones seated, but the service is excellent.  We order a bottle of red and start drinking.  Lynne & I both order artichoke arancine for appetizers and I don’t remember what Marty had.  Lynne had some fish, Marty a rabbit dish – and me, well I had lamb prepared two ways for dinner.  Honestly, I don’t remember the food that well.  However, the company & the budding friendship were sublime.  **See Sue (my BFF), I really can put food second when there’s an excellent experience staring me in the face!

    CROCIFISSO . . . Rating: 8 for food; 13 for new friends!  

    Noto – Beautiful Noto!  Maybe not quite the foodie experience I expected (but then I’ve been told many times I’m a food snob), but a wonderful 3 days in so many ways.  I would go back – just for another piece of that chocolate & pistachio cake!

    **4 1/2 weeks into the trip and I’m pretty tired – but let me tell you about the adventure that Marty & Lynne were on.  These two were doing 7 countries in 30 days – and I’m not talking countries that were necessarily close to each other.  Left Queensland, Austraila.  First stop: Reykjavik, Iceland.  Then Dublin, Paris, Sicily, Houston TX, Honduras, back to Houston & onto San Francisco (to spend a few days with their kids in Santa Cruz), down to Los Angeles for the flight back to Australia.  They are great friends!  They were meeting friends at all these places to celebrate birthdays.  I shot Marty a message the morning I was leaving Rome to see how their trip to Honduras was going.  They were there, but he wanted to know if I’d seen their luggage which was still apparently in Rome!  At least, they only needed bathing suits & flip flops for the Caribbean!  They checked in a week later to tell me they’d made it back to Australia but their luggage had not quite caught up.  There were having to pay $150 per bag to have it delivered to their home in Queensland.  Lynne traveled heavy  . . I’m sure she had a great shopping trip in San Francisco!!

    Enjoy the pictures of the Baroque architecture & the magnificent churches of Noto . . .

    Oh, and I forgot to mention, I stopped by an exhibit of Marc Chagall works and they were also showcasing a textiles designer – hence the pictures that look like rugs!

  • Erice (pronounced: Air-re-chay)

    Erice (pronounced: Air-re-chay)

    April 17 – Little Easter!

    The Trapanese really celebrate Easter.  After 24 hours of Good Friday mystery processions, Easter Sunday with two church services, and a big dinner with the family – they continue celebrating on Monday.  The Monday after Easter is called “Pasquita” or Little Easter.  No one goes to work & the streets are deserted.

    This is my last day in Trapani and I haven’t had a chance to do the surrounding area touristy things like the salt flats, Marsala & Erice (reported to have the best pasticceria in Sicily).  I decide I’ll defer salt flats & Marsala for a future trip because any time I can eat pasticceria in Sicily I’m going to do it!  Besides, my Mom remembers Erice fondly from their trip to Sicily in 2004 and is looking forward to hearing about my impressions of this beautiful little town.

    Paolo says I can just take the bus to the funivia station (that’s Italian for cableway – i.e. a tram that goes up the mountain to the hill town of Erice). 

    I pack up some stuff & start the 10 minute walk to the bus station (it takes 15 because I’m really not feeling 100% after yesterday’s boat trip).  The streets are really quiet and besides a few tour buses, I’m not really seeing any city buses.  A few people come by & ask me if the buses are running; none of us seem to know for sure.  After a half hour of waiting I decide – they are NOT running.  I walk back to the B&B to see if Paolo has another suggestion, but he’s not there.  I’m really not feeling it – but I have to go to Erice – I’m this close.  So, I find a well-rated taxi service on Trip Advisor and call for a taxi.   5 minutes later I’m taking my first 15E trip of the day. 

    A ticket for 8E and I’m on the cableway headed for Erice.  I’m still feeling a bit uneasy from yesterday’s boat trip and all that wine that Vincenzo kept pushing on me and the fog is closing in.  The trip only takes about 12 minutes – 6 of which I’m cloaked in dense fog.  I arrive at the top, walk through the city gate / arch and start heading up the hill.  I’m not really sure where I’m going but the small crowd is heading up, so I will too.  There’s lots of little souvenir shops, cafes & restaurants – all cute – and lots of great churches & architectural details.  I’m taking pictures like crazy.  8 minutes in and I’ve found two pasticceria’s and the first one is Maria’s – the one rated the best in Sicily.

    Next door to the actual shop where you can purchase goodies is a “showroom”.  This place is filled with antique china cabinets filled with Maria’s sweets.  My guess is she’s become such a big deal that this is the only way they can keep commerce flowing in the actual shop, as everyone wants pictures of these little gems. I’m no exception – they are so intricate & beautiful.  But pictures alone will not do – I need pastry!  I go next door and load up on a huge, mixed selection of cookies, a piece of cassata (still around from Easter) and a little mandarin made of Martorana Reale (a type of really sweet marzipan) for my Mom.  Since I’m still not feeling great – I decide to forego sitting down and enjoying a sweet, at least for now.  Total cost: 12E (a bit pricey by Sicilian standards – but heck, the place is famous). 

    I continue exploring the town but I’m running out of energy.  I did get a bunch of great pictures – but I really am running out of steam.  I’m feeling guilty about thinking about leaving after only an hour – but I really don’t feel that great.  Food – food will help.  I duck into a little bar and order a lemon soda (my go to in Sicily when I’m feeling a little icky), a big bottle of water and a salumi & cheese plate.  I eat most of the bread, half of the salumi & a few pieces of cheese (there was lots of cheese) and that’s about all I can handle.  Bill: 25E.  Seems expensive, but I don’t care – I’m in Erice.  **I think back on this later and realize the waiter probably took me for a “tourist ride”.  It’s a big deal to get a receipt for all purchases in Italy, to avoid fines – and this dude didn’t even give me a bill – just quoted me verbally and I paid!  Lucky for me the finance police weren’t out in force on this little holiday!

    The food hasn’t helped that much – so I decide I’m just going to go back down and go back to the B&B.  I board the cableway (no operators up top – so sort of surreal to board alone & in the fog) and call the taxi company.  The dispatcher says he’ll send the same guy that picked me up earlier.   The taxi is waiting when I arrive at the bottom.  Turns out to be a nice guy and he sped me back to the B&B in about 10 minutes.  Another 15E.   

    Expensive trip for an hour or so – and I realize I probably could have driven given how quiet the town was on this little holiday – but heck, I got to see Erice.  Pretty little town, beautiful castle & views.  I ended up tasting most of the cookies over the next 3 days (some great, some not so much), left the piece of cassata with Paolo (I was driving 4 ½ hours the following day), and brought the mandarin home fully intact for Mom.  Not quite the “foodie experience” that I thought Erice would be – but I’m certainly not sad I chose it for my Monday excursion.

    Enjoy the pictures . . since you can’t enjoy the pastries!

  • Easter Sunday –                                                  Islands of Favignana & Levanzo

    Easter Sunday – Islands of Favignana & Levanzo

    April 16

    Paolo, my B&B host, had arranged for a boat trip to the Islands of Favignana & Levanzo off the coast of Trapani.  He said they were beautiful and this is a trip I had to make.  I wake, dress and go to the breakfast room.  The only other guests that morning are the Italian couple that I’ve heard, but missed meeting for the past couple of days (they are early risers, I am not!).  Paolo mentions that the Italians are going on the boat trip too – and off they go.  Breakfast is beautiful & plentiful, but I decide since I’m getting onto a boat, I better eat light.  Turns out – that was a smart move!

    I walk down to the harbor; the weather is looking a little overcast and it looks like it could even rain.  I go up to the booth to pay the balance of my fare and the gals that are checking people in are pretty funny.  We get into a conversation about change because the 50E I’m trying to pay with is not going to fly.  I end of scrounging change & some smaller bills to get it paid.  I ask why is it that the bancomat’s give out 50E bills if no one has change?  And then add, why do people seem to hoard coin in this country??  (I should mention that one of the gals spoke really good English – because I’m sure my Italian is not good enough to have had this conversation otherwise!!).  She says that they just don’t make enough coin . . really!  And apparently 5E bills are really hard to find.  Really??  I jokingly say, “maybe you guys should start printing & making your own” and she loves that and starts to tell the rest of the crew that this is really what they should do and they’re all chiming in, getting into this, and thinking this is a really good idea.  My God, what have I started??  This is Mafia country and I’ve just made a really bad suggestion that very well could land me in cement boots at the bottom of the harbor – because I’m suggesting cutting in on the Mafia’s action.  Kari – shut up and get on the boat!!!

    I board the boat & look around for a seat and see my Italian B&B mates.  I decide, what the heck, it’s high time I meet them.  So I go over & ask if I can join them at their table & introduce myself.  Their names are Vincenzo (always a good sign) and Shelia.  They don’t speak much English but Vincenzo is trying really hard and I’m trying equally hard with my basic Italian – and guess what? – we become fast friends.  During the course of the next hour I find out that they’re from Livorno, Italy (that’s on the coast just south of Pisa), that Vincenzo is a retired policeman but it now involved in some type of restaurant, that they have 3 kids & 5 grandchildren – and that they do not get seasick! 

    The farther we travel, the worse the sea is getting and the boat is really pitching right & left.  Thank God it’s not hot – cause the combination would have put me over the edge.  And while I didn’t eat much, I still feel like I could hurl my breakfast – but I’m cracking up & trying to speak English and Vincenzo is asking me every 5 minutes if I’m OK.  The tour guide comes by to ask if we want to go on a walking tour when we arrive and while I really just want to know how much longer I have to be on the boat before I can stand on dry land – Vincenzo says “yes” and pays the fee for the three of us.  Oh well, I’m going on a walking tour!   At that point, the guide said it would be about 15 minutes; it felt like 50!  We’re finally docking & I’m like the 5th person off of the boat.

    The walking tour is interesting, but everyone’s getting frustrated that it’s taking so long because the guide has to repeat everything in Italian and English, so people are wondering off and doing their own thing.  Since Vincenzo treated & I’m now getting special attention from the guide (as I’m the only one left that speaks English) I decide to stick it out.  Contrary to Paolo’s insistence that I make this trip, Favignana is not that glorious or impressive.  But it’s quaint and it’s got some interesting history about quarries, a family that owned the place, and the tuna massacre story – that it’s plenty of info to hold my interest.   We finish up across from the Tuna Museum and are told we have about 75 minutes more to explore on my own.  I tell Shelia & Vincenzo that I’ll meet them back at the boat and head to the Museum (I just can’t seem to get enough fishing stories on the trip – who’s channeling me now??). 

    The whole story of the Tuna Museum and the Great Tuna Massacre is pretty cool and mighty impressive.  I’ve heard most of my life stories about how hard it was at sea for my grandfather when he fished and how many accidents he had while fishing that could have ended his life – so I knew fishing was hard work.  This place brings that home loud & clear.  These guys used to build this “compound” of nets, up to 10 miles in length along the tuna’s swimming route.  The tuna would end up in the last “chamber” called the “death room” where the fisherman were waiting with spears.  Now, these are BIG fish and it took multiple spears and multiple men to kill them & haul them into the boats and these fish did not come in without a big old fight – hence the danger to these men.  The museum is full of stories, and videos, and boats, and equipment that all tell the story of the Great Tuna Massacre.  It also has about 24 holograms of the people of Favignana telling their stories.  Fishermen, their wives, various workers from the processing plant (the museum is where the tuna were brought for processing) all telling their stories.   Of course, they were all speaking Sicilian so I wasn’t completely certain of what they were saying, but nevertheless, very cool to watch.

    Check out the links below if you would like to read more on the Great Tuna Massacre.  This method of fishing was used for thousands of years – but the reduction in tuna populations and the method (considered inhumane by some) has forced fishermen to adapt to more conventional types of fishing.

    On my way back to the boat, I stop into a pharmacy in hopes of scoring some TUMS – but they have no idea what I’m talking about and try to sell me laxatives (last thing I need on a boat).  I grab a lemon granite instead because surely, sorbet will help calm my tummy!   Back on the boat, the captain says we’re going to go over to a calm & quiet cove to drop anchor and have lunch.  The crew goes to work like an efficient catering operation dropping utensils, napkins, cups and a bottle of wine on each table.  We’re then served the traditional sandwich of Trapani – which I’ve had every morning at Paolo’s and have fallen in love with, so I am happy (Paolo’s were better though).  I’m going to make these for my Dad . . Trapanese bread topped with sesame seeds (left over from Arab occupation apparently) filled with olive oil, parmesan cheese, slices of fresh Sicilian tomatoes and chopped Castelvetrano olives (my favorite).  Yum, Yum!!   Then we’re served a big plate of Trapenese pasta (but again, I’ve had this before).  It’s not like the one I had at the cooking school (which was fresh & better) but it’s good and seems to be settling in my tummy OK.  Dessert is a cup of fresh strawberries and bananas.  Did I mention, Vincenzo is pouring wine through the whole meal and I’m really not that successful at pushing back . . after all, I was raised to be grateful for the generosity of others!

    They raise the anchor and we set off for the island of Levanzo.  It’s supposed to be about 25 minutes – feels like 25 hours!!  The sea has really gotten hostel now and the boat is pitching even worse than before.  Shelia is sitting closest to the window and water is coming in and getting her wet & soaking the table we’re sitting at.  We’re all laughing as the crew comes running with towels to try to dry her & everything else off.  I’m feeling the effects again – and this time my stomach is a bit more full of food.  But just as I think I must go outside and get some air, the very best distraction arises at the next table.  A woman starts singing what sounds like an Italian folk song & every one that can, chimes in.  There’s now about a dozen of these Italians, singing at the top of their lungs, banging “percussion” on the tables and having the time of their lives.  Now a woman is standing on the bench and directing the songs and they just keep singing for the next 15 minutes.  The captain comes down & joins in too (who is driving this boat anyway?).  Vincenzo chimes in and turns out he has a GREAT voice.  For the rest of the day and evening, he serenades Shelia & me (I found out later that they’d only been married for 2 years and Vincenzo is madly in love with his new bride – so the serenading was really for her).   I wish I had felt well enough to pull out the camera and take some video of this “concert” but I was just trying not to hurl!

    We arrive at Levanzo (finally) and I now understand why Paolo insisted I make this trip.  This place is quintessential Mediterranean and I think I might want to live here.  Population: 80.  Don’t they have room for 1 more??  I took my best pictures on this island, including the beautiful orange boat that’s the headline for this post.  I was so proud of this picture that I emailed it to my Dad the next day.  He said I was developing an artistic eye – first time I’ve ever heard that in my life.  While my talents are many – artistic has never been one of them.  Who says an old dog can’t learn new tricks!! 

    I decide I’m riding up top on the way back – I need the fresh air.  I end up talking with this great woman all the way back.  She’s half French & half English.  She & her husband have 4 boys (12-17) and they’re living in Milan.  She’s a family practice doctor (wanted to be an anesthesiologist – but the 4 boys killed that) and her husband is an architect.  They just finish 6 years living in France and she hated it.  She said she doesn’t like what the French have become (didn’t ask what that meant, just happy to have a nice French lady, speaking English to me after weeks of Italian!!).  Milan is their dream city and they will probably stay there as long as they can (and the kids are in American school, because it’s the best – go figure – these Europeans are constantly surprising me!!) 

    We’re back on dry land and I try to invite Vincenzo & Shelia to join me for a gelato (it’s that time of day) but Vincenzo says, no, we’ll get one tonight (I forgot to mention that they invited me to join them for dinner that night).  I go for a gelato anyway and they walk back to the B&B.

    At 8pm, we meet up & start walking to the restaurant where I must have the pistachio pesto & prawns that they had a few nights ago.  I’m definitely in!  But, it is Easter Sunday after all and the place is closed.  Bummer!  We walk down the harbor in search of something else – everything seems to be closed.  We find one place that’s setting tables and ask if they’re open – no, they just closed.  Vincenzo tells the owner that I’m an American from San Francisco and that he needs to make a good showing so does he have any suggestions.  The owner makes a few calls and then says, why don’t you just come home with me and have dinner with my family.  Of course, if it had just been me, I would have taken him up on it in a heartbeat (as I was told, never refuse an invitation in Sicily) but Vincenzo thanks him and we move on.  We find ourselves back up on the main drag and by this little pizzeria (for point of clarification, they have stuff other than pizza) that I ate at the first night in Trapani (and where my new friend, Tony the waiter, works).

    We’re greeted enthusiastically by Tony – and Shelia & Vincenzo are so impressed that I know this guy.  Tony & Vincenzo are babbling in Italian – so fast I can’t really understand all they are saying, but I’m pretty sure that it was about me!  Vincenzo orders a bottle of delicious wine and asks what I would like to eat.  When I say the chicken piccatta – he says kind of disgusted that I must have fish.  The next thing I know, he’s ordered for all of us and it’s bottarga (salt cod) bruschetta and swordfish agrodolce – both delicious – and I am shown that Sicilian machismo is not dead!  Vincenzo orders me tiramisu for dessert and despite not liking coffee or tiramisu, I happily gobble it down (remember, I was raised right!).   I take out my wallet to pay and Vincenzo says – no, it’s all taken care of.   Friendship & generosity – what a nice way to spend Easter.

    The next morning, we say our good byes over breakfast, as Sheila & Vincenzo are heading over to Ragusa for a few more days of vacation.  We tell Paolo all about our day and night and he seems very pleased that we’ve all made a connection.  I hug Sheila good bye and then go to Vincenzo.  He gives me a big bear hug and then places his hands on my shoulders, holding them like he wants me to pay attention.  In his very best English, he says, “I love you” – with a smile as big as Sicily!  He makes me promise to call when I get to Livorno or Pisa and promises he will come pick me up whenever I call. 

    My Dad was worried about my being alone for Easter. 

    It was never meant to be Dad. 

    Vincenzo & Sheila were sent to me to ensure I had an Easter to remember . . . and I wouldn’t be alone.   And, when the best picture of the trip is of a boat named Antonina that I found, bobbing in the water, on Easter Sunday . . .  I most definitely, was not alone.

    Footnote – I was really curious about this policeman turned restaurant connection with Vincenzo and ended up asking Shelia endless questions to get a real understanding of what it was (her English was almost non-existent – so I really had to work hard at my Italian).  Turns out Vincenzo had opened a Pasticceria (bakery) and was the head baker.  She showed me tons of pictures of his creations.  Small world, no wonder we connected so strongly!

  • Buona Pasqua from Trapani

    Buona Pasqua from Trapani

    April 14 – 17

    I planned to spend Easter (Pasqua) in Trapani – the farthest west of would be on the island of Sicily – at least for this trip.  I had heard that the best Easter Celebration on the island was in Trapani and I decided that it would be cool to see & experience that.  In communications with the B&B host, I came to realize that arriving on Good Friday was not a good idea – as the entire town would be in celebration mode and it would difficult to drive in the city.  I also found out that the “procession” route (more on that later) would be a mere 50 meters from the front door of the B&B; finding the B&B during this time would be impossible.

    I asked if the B&B had room for me to come earlier and luckily, they could extend my stay.  So I packed up my perfect little retreat at the beach and headed out.  With the stops in Selinunte and other towns that day, (see Selinunte post if you haven’t already) it took most of the day.  I arrived in Trapani in the late afternoon and the GPS took me on a bit of a wild ride, but I found it (down a really narrow street) and called the host to come grab my bags.  He put them inside the door and jumped in the car to come with me to find parking.   A few big blocks away, we found free parking, and that’s where the car stayed for the next 5 days.

    Paolo, the host, was a great guy.  32 years old, really cute, and very accomplished.  He spent 5 years with Carnival Cruise lines as the 2nd officer of a ship.  He now works for a European line & owns / runs the B&B.  He told me his schedule is 4 months on the ship, 2 months off at home and then repeat.  He says while it’s been great to see the world, it’s so hard to find love with this schedule.  I told him a guy like him probably has “a gal in every port” . . he blushed!  I met his mother the next morning, as she oversees things when he’s gone at sea and puts together breakfast most mornings (but let me tell you, Paolo did breakfast by himself one morning and it was actually more spectacular than his mother’s spread, so the guy can cook!).  After a few days, I mentioned my niece, Misha, to him and told him I’d make an introduction.  I told him she was independent and spoke fluent Spanish.   Who knows if anything will come of it, but it was fun to try to make an international love connection!!

    Anyway, Paolo does a great job of educating me on the geography of the city – and more importantly, on the festivities that will occur over the next 4 days.  Starting with Venerdi Santo (Good Friday) and the 24 hour procession that will start at 2pm the next day.  This is what I came for – so I’m listening with great interest.  But really, you have to experience it to really understand it.  I took a TON of pictures & some video so you can get a basic idea – but it’s a really hard thing to get pictures of, because you’re kind of fighting for space with everyone else who also wants to get pictures.  More on Vernerdi Santo later.

    That first night, I walk the main streets of the city center and decide to stop into a little pizza place for dinner.  A little salad, wine & pizza and I’m set.  A couple comes in & sits at the table next to me and they are “ripe”.  If you’ve never been to Europe, you probably don’t know that Europeans (especially the French, don’t always use deodorant or bathe every day).  I’m listening to them & trying not to breathe through my nose, and end of asking them where they are from because I can’t really hear her, but he’s speaking English with some interesting accent.  She’s English, he’s French, she doesn’t speak French.  They just got married & live in England.  Really nice, but as I said, really ripe!  By the end of the meal, the waiter, who has introduced himself as Tony, and I are old friends.  He talks me into a parfait thing with chocolate & cream – he was right – it was delicious. 

    I spend the first morning walking & exploring the wharf.  Like Sciacca, it’s a huge fishing port and has a terrific fish market (Mercato di Pesce).  There are all kinds of goodies fresh from the sea and a whole bunch of characters selling it all.  I get really good at saying “mi dispiace, no cucina” (I’m sorry, no kitchen) when they beg me to buy their seafood.  I stop at this one booth and ask if I can take some pictures and this old fisherman falls in love with me.  He’s asking me lots of questions in Italian and keeps holding my hand & telling me how pretty I am.  He asks me where I live and I say Seattle and he smiles and keeps saying “bella, so bella”.  Then he asks where my husband is and I say “he’s in Seattle, I came alone” and he gets so excited & is so proud of me for making the trip alone.  One of the younger guys in back chimes in in English, “He’s in Seattle? That’s great!” and he’s laughing & smiling.  Italian men seem very impressed with us woman traveling alone . . though I think it’s just for foreign woman, as I don’t believe they’d be as supportive of “their” women leaving to travel alone! 

    Here’s a picture of my new friend – sorry, I never did get his name.

    I continue to walk the town and take a lot of pictures of the buildings.  While the tour books have said that Trapani is not that much to look at, I find it really beautiful.  There are plenty of buildings that could rival any of the towns I’ve been visiting & the streets are very quaint.  You can check out the pictures and judge for yourselves.  There was one building that I saw that looked like a haunted house; I sent the pictures to Amy and said “this place gives your frequent house TP-ing raids a run for their money”!

    I continue walking down the huge waterfront where all the commercial boats are and find my way to the edge of the city center that’s the farthest point from my B&B and the last point on the map that Paolo has used to educate me.  All around me, the festivities for Venerdi Santo are ramping up.  American commercialization is everywhere – Disney, comic characters, Hollywood, super heros & animals – all epitomized in balloon or toy form.  I took a bunch of pictures for Sienna & Viola, as I knew they would love them.

    I move onto Via Garibaldi and find a bunch of little cafes and stop to have lunch.  I start with Pasta all Norma (one of the national dishes of Sicily) and then move to grilled swordfish.  Both pretty delicious.  I head to the main drag (Vittorio Emanuele – this street name by the way, is in every town) and the procession is in full swing.  First I hear the bands, then I see the crowds.  I look toward the crowd & see my first “mystery” – huge “float” representing the phases of Jesus Christ’s punishment, crucifixion and resurrection.  This is not just pomp & circumstance, this is tradition, and these Trapanese people take it VERY seriously.  I’d estimate that about 3000 people took part in this procession over the next 24 hours.  They literally stayed up all night long: men carrying these mysteries through the street, kids & adults marching in costume & demonstrating pretty impressive synchronized steps, bands playing & marching – and demonstrating those same synchronized steps, banners being carried, flags being waved, and tons of people following them and snapping pictures.  I found out later that they do take shifts, so no one really was participating for the “full 24 hours” – but nonetheless, pretty impressive commitment on the part of these people.  I also found out they have done this EVERY year for the past 400+ years.  Amazing!

    I watched for about 4 hours, moving through the crowd as best I could & changing positions, even moving to different streets, to get as much exposure as I could.  I took a break & had some dinner (or maybe just a big gelato, I really don’t remember) and then went back when it was dark to get some pictures of these things all lit up, candles burning.  People were looking pretty tired at this point, but no one was really slowing down.  At 10pm, there were even 5, 6 & 7 year old’s marching in this procession.

    I went back to my B&B, put in ear plugs and went to sleep – still hearing the powerful music that the bands had been playing all day.  I woke up about 8am, took out my ear plugs and the music was still playing (literally, not just in my head!).  After I had breakfast & got dressed, I went out to see how they were doing.  Surprising to me – they were all still there: marching, playing music & honoring the tradition.  I tell you – MOST IMPRESSIVE to see this kind of perseverance & commitment!

    **Click on the link below to see pictures.  Please note that I have also included a number of videos – these are at the end of the reel.  The last 2 videos are of a girl that I couldn’t stop watching.  She reminded me so much of my friend, Anna Kelly, who is an amazing performer.  I’ve had the pleasure of watching Anna dance at my wedding (when she was 5), as well as sing & perform in a number of youth productions – she’s fantastic!  I had to stop video-ing this girl, as I was afraid she’d think I was some kind of weirdo.  She was so graceful & it was funny to see her completely ignore the boy who was so desparately trying to get her attention!! 

    I jotted down some observations that afternoon, as I wanted to remember to share them with you.  Here’s my list . . just thoughts. . not edited for content, grammar or punctuation!

    ·       They were wearing so many clothes . . wool sweaters, full suits, black ensemble with decorative stuff on top, heavy boots, drapes on their heads, hats, smocks – SO MANY clothes

    ·       Some of the guys look like they are going to collapse under the weight of these mystery – others look like they had figured it out & had practiced a lot

    ·       There are all these bosses . . telling the kids, the band, the flag bearers, the other guys what to do – both men & women.  The men look like mafia bosses – all serious & commanding – they walk around with their arms crossed looking stern.  The women bosses are all pretty bitchy – dirty looks, quick quips to put someone in line, a mamma’s eye to keep everything perfect & in line.

    ·       Some of the bosses were younger woman – like the ones that had come up in the ranks and were now showing the younger crew what to do

    ·       I made note at the 4 ½ hour mark and I have to stay the participants are dragging . . some were dragging pretty bad at the 2 hour mark . . Paolo was going out while I’m coming back – so reinforcements are on their way!  Can’t wait to see how it looks tomorrow morning at 10am!

    ·       This is very serious business and lots of time & money has been spent to represent these churches, rotary groups, fraternities, etc(barbers & perfume shops).

    ·       Ecce Homo (Latin for “behold the man”) group – most scary and well organized (but the guys looked like they were going to drop) – one of the stronger bands, very ominous indeed.  Very mafioso.

    ·       All these guys accompanying the group – like godfathers!  I thought they were “extras” for when someone gets tired, but I changed my vantage point a couple of times (so saw some groups 2 and 3 times) and the guys were the same.  Go figure – just more people to boss the participants around. 

    ·       Bands playing serious, ominous music – same 2 or 3 songs.  I’m going to be hearing this in my sleep – literally & figuratively – as I can hear it loud and clear as I sit in my B&B room.

    ·       There a sort of constant movement by the participants and way of walking & standing with a sway – they do it as a group.   At first I thought was a way of getting some relief from all that walking & standing – but after really studying it – I think it’s to keep their movement / walking in rhythm with the music & the pace of the procession. 

    ·       Clapper thing used to coordinate “set down” and “pick up” of the float!

    ·       Drone came flying overhead to capture the events – everyone starting talking about the drone & kind of stopped paying attention to the procession for a few minutes.

    ·       Procession follows a route that’s about 2 miles as far as I can tell (I walked it today multiple times).  I had to go way out of my way AND cross the parade route (at an opportune time, as not to be a rude American!) just to get back to my B&B.  At least I’m really learning the city center!

    ·       They’re always smoking!

    ·       On a couple of the bigger mysteries, I counted up to 64 men carrying them.  Incredible!

    Promptly at 2pm – the last mystery is taken inside the Chiesa San Francesco and the music stops.  The participants, all in glorious uniforms & costumes disband all over the streets reuniting with family and drinking LOTS of water.  By 3pm, the town is back to normal, but there is garbage everywhere.  Venerdi Santo is over – but the Pasqua celebrations are just beginning!

    Points of clarity . . . I find out later in the weekend that there are actually 18 different mysteries.  As I mentioned earlier, they are a collection of scenes from the persecution, crucifixion & resurrection of Jesus Christ.  The groups carrying them are all “unions” of a sort . . my note about the barbers & perfumers was actually incorrect – it was barbers & hairdressers.  There was also the union of fishermen (not surprising in this neck of the woods) bread makers, shoemakers, etc.  I guess it would have been the groups of workers in place 400 years ago.  Anyway, if you’re interested in learning more, just click on the link & you can read about it.  

    I spend the rest of Saturday wandering the streets and then had made a reservation earlier to have dinner at a steakhouse (I’ve had little protein “by my standards” on this trip).  Turns out I made the reservation for the restaurant next door in error.  So I end up with a nice eggplant dish for primi and some pistachio crusted tuna for secondo.  All fine – but I really had my heart set on steak.  (**If you’re asking why I just didn’t go next door, well, I had already gotten my wine & water & eaten some bread before I read the menu & was shocked to find no meat . . didn’t want to be a rude American!)

    On Easter Sunday, Paolo has arranged for me to go on this boat trip to the islands off the coast.  He must get a cut from these guys, because he really wanted me to go.  My Dad was most concerned that I’d be spending Pasqua alone, so I figured this would be a way to spend some time with other tourists who didn’t have Mama’s house to go to.  Turns out it was mostly Italians that either are not religious and don’t celebrate the holiday OR were on holiday themselves!!  Fun group – see separate post on Easter Sunday.

    Monday morning at breakfast, Paolo is thrilled to hear that we all had a good time on the boat trip (some other guests had gone as well).  My new friends, Vincenzo & Shelia, are leaving so I need to find something else to do.  **Just so you know, even though the holiday was yesterday, Trapani continues with their celebration on Monday – they call it Pasquino (Little Pasqua) and everyone has the day off from work & everything (but some restaurants & food shops) are closed.  I decide that this is the day to hit Erice, a town way up on the mountain that Mom remembers fondly.  My draw was Maria’s Pasticceria which according to the guide books is the best bakery in Sicily.  Paolo calls the funivia station to be sure they’re open – they are – and we talk about my taking the bus to get to the station. (See separate post on Erice)

    When I return from Erice, I really just want yogurt & water for dinner so I drag myself out to a little mercato to find some.  On the way back, I remember a little natural food place that I got a smoothie from a couple of days ago and recall they have salads.  Thinking I’m in desperate need of some real veggies, I go in.  Turns out the place is run by a French family who knows & appreciates real food.  The salad turns out to be delicious and just what I need after days of weird meals on land & sea!

    Tuesday morning is driving day – AGAIN!  I pack up my things – and Paolo packs me up some sandwiches for the drive (I’d fallen in love with these breakfast sandwiches that he & his mom make.  They are on this really good bread with sesame seeds and have olive oil, fresh tomatoes, parmesan cheese and my favorite Castelvetrano olives – YUM!).  Paolo, bless his heart, carries all my bags down the stairs and I retrieve what is now a VERY DIRTY CAR and meet him at the entrance to the B&B. 

    I drive out of town using that silly GPS which takes me on the worst route winding through a bunch of very narrow streets.  I’m mad at myself for not just trusting my good sense of direction.  I’ve been walking these streets for 5 days and I know them well – I could have maneuvered downtown without the GPS. 

    I leave not feeling any more religious than when I came, but definitely in awe of the traditions of Venerdi Santo & Pasqua that this city has shown me.  Impressive, indeed!   I’m so glad this is where I chose to spend my Easter in Sicily.  Unforgettable, indeed!

  • Piazza Armerina

    Piazza Armerina

    April 6

    By the way – the cover picture on this post is a selfie taken after about an hour & a half of driving the most insane country back roads . . see below for details!

    **************************************************************************************************************

    Poor Piazza Armerina!  I keep forgetting to put up this post – but alas, I’ve finally remembered and I “think” I have some decent internet speed today!!

    So, the day I left cooking school, I needed to spend some time seeing sights as I couldn’t check into my B&B in Sciacca until late afternoon.  I had read about Piazza Armerina and every book said it was on the “must see” list.  It took me a 3 hour drive to find it (really, as always, it should have been less but the GPS routed me onto these VERY REMOTE BACK ROADS)!  The views were spectacular and I climbed up & down hills for a while.  I stopped and took some beautiful landscape shots, but truly, I could have stopped every two minutes and took pictures – yes, it WAS THAT beautiful.

    I wind way up to the top of this town (can’t remember the name) and it’s lovely.  Quaint & cute & quiet!  It’s market day and I really want to stop – but I really don’t need food or gas or a bathroom break, so I just move slowly though the town & continue to follow the GPS’s directions.  Well, that damn GPS is BAD AGAIN!  Next thing I know, I’m on this dirt road (not really all dirt, but so much of it was damaged & washed away, that you had to drive on dirt AND through & over so many HUGE holes that I wondered if I’d make it at all).  Then – I have to stop to let a herd of sheep pass.  Then I have to drive on the wrong side of the road, because my half of the road has fallen off the cliff.  Then I have to wait for an on-coming car to pass, because again, my side of the road is gone.  This goes on & on for over an hour.  I’m wondering if I’m going to ever come to a “real” road again and then it happens – I hit the high rent district!!

    I come around the bend and it’s like I’ve been transported!  There are all these beautiful villas with great gardens & olive groves and I understand why the road has gotten SO MUCH BETTER – it’s because these rich people pay more taxes – right?!?!  As I wind past these estates and up a hill, I see the next high rent area – it’s the town of Santa Caterina and it is one of the best I’ve seen in Sicily.  This little place I’ve never heard of is gorgeous.  Street after street – it’s just beautiful.  Note to self – maybe a place to visit for serenity in the future!

    I continue on and make my way to Enna.  Even though Mom has told me how much she & Dad loved Enna, I really just want to get to Piazza Armerina – so I plow through.  When I arrive in Piazza Armerina, I’m shocked to find it’s actually a town.  I had been under the impression it was a villa or a castle and I can’t for the life of me understand why the GPS has brought me to this dumpy parking lot somewhere outside the city center.  I turn the expensive wireless data on, on my phone (I’ve been saving it for emergencies like this – for sure) and bring up my friend, Google!  I find out that there’s actually this villa called The Roman Villa Del Casale and it’s about 5 miles out of town.  I bring it up on Google Maps – using my phone’s expensive & limited data access – and follow it.  I’m way past trusting that GPS again!

    I arrive, park & pay 1 Euro to use the bathroom.  I buy a ticket, pick up an audio guide and make my way past two huge groups of German tourists that have just exited their tour bus.  Don’t want to get caught behind these guys!!

    Suffice to say, this place is pretty amazing and far surpasses what I would call a villa.  A fortress, a town, I don’t know – but something very big!  The place actually has an entire “cathedral” inside of it and I heard on the audio feed that the town’s people could come here for worship and religious celebrations. 

    The place was built sometime between 250 & 350 AD.  The owner is unknown.  Time & neglect have left it in pretty bad shape, but what’s survived are these MAGNIFICENT FLOORS – all made them entirely of little tiny tiles.  They are works of art themselves . . I can only imagine what the walls & ceilings of this place may have looked like in its glory.  UNESCO named it a world heritage site in 1997 and restoration began in 2007.  A lot of that restoration in the form of trusses & ceilings, I’m sure in an attempt to protect what is left of the original house & to preserve those amazing floors.

    I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.  They were amazing to view in person and as I walked around the raised pathway to view the rooms, I couldn’t believe the time & craftsmanship that must have gone  into these amazing works of art.

    Enjoy!