We caught the inter-city bus directly from
Licata to Palermo, capital of Sicily. The trip takes three hours, but the buses
are very comfortable, the drivers skilled at negotiating the unpredictable
traffic, and it’s an opportunity to take in some of the beautiful scenery. At
this time of the year, early spring, the countryside is vividly green, the
fruit trees are in blossom and wild flowers splash patches of yellow and
crimson across the fields.
Palermo has lots of accommodation options,
from exclusive hotels to B&Bs. This time we rented an apartment, Casa
Vacanza Bellini, in the old town in what appears to be the Bangladeshi
neighbourhood. The extra facilities enabled us to do a bit of our own cooking
(with produce from the famous markets) and to wash clothes rather than packing
a lot of stuff. It was a perfect location for exploring this beautiful and
historic city.
Like most of the Med, Sicily has been
settled since human history began, and its position in the middle of the Middle
Sea has made it a centre of wealth, power, culture and conflict throughout the
last 5000 or so years. Palermo itself was an important port for the Phoenicians,
followed by the Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Spanish and
Bourbons prior to the unification of Italy. Some of the oldest and most
beautiful buildings date from the Norman occupation, making them nearly 900
years old. The amusingly named Roger the Norman was responsible for many of
these, including the breathtaking Palatine Chapel. Almost every square foot of
the chapel is covered in mosaics depicting Biblical themes, in rich blues and
golds. The figures are Medieval in style, but much more fluid and expressive
than the icons of the Eastern (Greek) church, and they are in perfect
condition. It is one of the most beautiful religious artworks I have ever seen.
(To quote Terry, “It beats the crap out of the Sistine Chapel.”) The Norman
Palace and Monreale Cathedral (built by Roger’s son William) are also
spectacular and well worth a visit. You begin to imagine these Norman Kings as
enlightened and cultivated leaders until you read that Roger and William shared
another hobby of personally devising new and excruciating tortures for their
prisoners.
We toured the lovely Massimo Teatro, where
the last part of The Godfather III was
filmed (Michael Corleone’s daughter is shot on these steps.) The Royal Box and
antechamber never served the King of the time – he said the theatre was far too
grand for a second-rate city like Palermo! Sadly, no performances were running
while we were in town so we’ll have to make do with Cruisers’ Monday Night
Singalong at the Las Vegas Bar in Licata.
Steps of the Massimo
Palermo is a great town to walk around. It
has the usual cafes, bars and restaurants, including some excellent ones
representing the migrant groups who have settled there. The shops are
fascinating. All the Italian and international brand stores are there, but also
lots of tiny, specialised shops – the cravat shop, the beret shop, the puppet
mender, the man who crafts inlaid wood, the artisan chocolates, the hand-made
baby clothes – and the coffin maker right next door. The public buildings are
stately and there are gardens, fountains and a fine waterfront.
Crafting marquetry
Puppet maker's workshop
The harbour
On Sunday we made our way to the famous
weekly market, which took up about six full streets – the biggest and best
market we’ve yet seen. The fresh produce was amazing, with oranges,
strawberries (four euros per kilo!!), and winter vegetables in season. I’ve
developed a serious wild asparagus habit, which fortunately is quite sustainable
at two euros for a good sized bunch. It will be hard to see the season end, but
I will try to console myself with cherries…
Meat, fish, cheeses and fresh pasta - so much to choose from! We bought
what we needed, along with a bottle of local wine and enjoyed a fine
home-cooked, market-fresh dinner.
I was curious to see the Cappuccin
Mausoleum – a bit macabre, perhaps but I have rather a fascination with funeral
rites and traditions. You learn a lot about a culture from the way it manages
death. We made our way to the monastery by taxi as it is a bit out of town,
then took the stairs down into the half-lit catacombs. The mummified bodies are
either tied upright in niches, or laid out in shelves cut into the rock. All
are dressed in the clothing of their time – the monks in their simple hessian
robes, the priests in the rags of their regalia, the workmen in the uniforms of
their trade, the ladies in remnants of their finery and the children and
infants in lovingly stitched robes and bonnets. Most are little more than
gaping skulls and skeletons, but some are better preserved, with skin, hair and
even eyelashes. One child, known as “the Princess” sleeps perfectly preserved
in her sealed glass coffin. A stroll through the various chambers (“the
infants”, “the virgins”…) is a powerful Memento
Mori which is exactly what the church intended, “to this end we all must
come”. The effect was spoiled somewhat by a group of American tourists,
laughing, joking and talking so loudly that the attendant had to settle them
down. This was obviously their way of dealing with anxiety – as I said, you
learn a lot about a culture from the way it handles death.
The catacombs (from a postcard - no photos permitted)
Another pleasant bus ride back to Licata,
despite extensive roadworks, and now it’s time to do those last few jobs before
setting sail again.
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