Saturday 27th February.
Licata to Agrigento
The next morning the sun was out and it looked like we were in for a hot one! (Rosie tells us it’s raining in Stratford!) Breakfast was in a little cafe in the corner of the square served by the same beaming Sri Lankan. I should mention at this point that the B&B is in the corner of a square smaller than a tennis court and in the summer breakfast is served in the square al fresco. People walk into the square and just shout the name of the person they want, a window will open and the searcher will be told she’s out, on holiday, visiting her mother – it is fascinating. The street vendors arrive in their little 3 wheeler vans filled with fruit and veg, with megaphones blaring like politicians people on the upper floors lower baskets down on string to be filled with whatever they want. We could be in a play!
Licata to Agrigento
The next morning the sun was out and it looked like we were in for a hot one! (Rosie tells us it’s raining in Stratford!) Breakfast was in a little cafe in the corner of the square served by the same beaming Sri Lankan. I should mention at this point that the B&B is in the corner of a square smaller than a tennis court and in the summer breakfast is served in the square al fresco. People walk into the square and just shout the name of the person they want, a window will open and the searcher will be told she’s out, on holiday, visiting her mother – it is fascinating. The street vendors arrive in their little 3 wheeler vans filled with fruit and veg, with megaphones blaring like politicians people on the upper floors lower baskets down on string to be filled with whatever they want. We could be in a play!
Breakfast cafe bottom right In summer they eat in the square!
We had an appointment with the lady who lived the other side of the square who Vivi had befriended the night before and holds the key to St Girolemo’s church -1579. Overnight we had discovered that this tiny church houses a ‘school of Caravaggio’ painting so were quite excited about the visit. The church was tiny, quite plain and had the feel of a place lost in time. On the left as one enters is a floor to ceiling cross complete with two ladders also full size. The church was cool if not chilly and had the air of not being used very often. In front of the altar we noticed a shroud over what might be a coffin and we both wondered whether there was going to be a funeral later in the day.
The old church retainer, genuflecting at every opportunity, beckoned Vivi forward and reverently lifted the corner of the shroud to reveal a life size model of Christ – it was a most eerie sensation not knowing what was going to be under the cloth –for a moment we both thought it might be her husband as she looked so pleased to see it, and we’re sure the old lady saw the model as the real body of Christ. He is used for their celebrations on the feast day and is carried around the town. The model has real hair and a beard and one can be left in absolutely no doubt that Jesus definitely suffered for us all.
The old church retainer, genuflecting at every opportunity, beckoned Vivi forward and reverently lifted the corner of the shroud to reveal a life size model of Christ – it was a most eerie sensation not knowing what was going to be under the cloth –for a moment we both thought it might be her husband as she looked so pleased to see it, and we’re sure the old lady saw the model as the real body of Christ. He is used for their celebrations on the feast day and is carried around the town. The model has real hair and a beard and one can be left in absolutely no doubt that Jesus definitely suffered for us all.
Behind the altar was the huge painting – definitely didn’t look like a Caravaggio but it has now apparently been confirmed as one, but perhaps he was in a stressed mood having just fled from Malta on a murder charge. We were then shown the vestry and a few other dark passages at the rear and then the collecting bowl came out and suddenly we were outside in the sunshine again. Vivi asked whether they ever had weddings in the church as the tiny piazza would be a marvelous setting for the reception. The retainer looked horrified as if to say ‘we don’t have anything frivolous like that going on it here’
The Caravaggio
Afterwards we packed up and having decided to take the afternoon train to Agrigento, there being no road except the very busy main road, took ourselves off for an inspection of the local countryside. After we’d done about 6 miles in a leisurely fashion Vivi remembered that the B&B hadn’t returned us our passports. Now that really does focus the mind as for one thing B&B’s have a habit of locking the door when no one is there and secondly we had a train to catch. Sure enough the place was locked up as if no one had stayed there since last year, but a kindly soul passing by who claimed she lived in NY and used to own the property, started yelling at the top of her voice and before we knew it a builder appeared on the roof of the building across the square; he produced a mobile and made a call and five minutes later our charming Sri Lankan reappeared at a run and produced the passports. Phew!
The train to Agrigento involves going inland, changing, plus a one hour wait and then taking another train back to the coast and Agrigento. Going out of Licata we sat next to an old boy who had bags of artichokes and a 10ltr plastic container of red wine. From this two carriage train he was going to be traveling all of the way to Milan – a journey lasting over 24 hours and involving this tiny train being put on the ferry at Messina. Thereafter presumably the small train becomes a big one but who knows. He was very keen for us to try his red wine but as it’s a) illegal to drink on the train and b) I’d already been told off for having my rucksack on the seats, we didn’t dare.
During our hour long wait at Canicatti we chatted to the station master who turned out to be of the friendly variety. He was fascinated by us and us by him even more so. His English was excellent, all learned in a two month spell in Liverpool and Manchester in the 70’s when he was 18 and took himself off to sell Italian ice creams. I wonder if he ever met that Dragon who was so successful in the same line of business (Duncan Bannantyne I think). He said he will never forget leaping in to the sea in Liverpool on the first sunny day- not quite like the Med!
The ride all the way from Licata to Agrigento was lovely, the fields, hills, trees and crops all being a rich green and looking very lush.
Agrigento houses the Valley of the Temples and there is plenty to see, all of which we shall explore tomorrow. The hotel receptionist headed us in the direction of a local restaurant for dinner which turned out to be a cracker but as usual what everyone else seemed to be enjoying was unavailable to us – how annoying is this!
During our hour long wait at Canicatti we chatted to the station master who turned out to be of the friendly variety. He was fascinated by us and us by him even more so. His English was excellent, all learned in a two month spell in Liverpool and Manchester in the 70’s when he was 18 and took himself off to sell Italian ice creams. I wonder if he ever met that Dragon who was so successful in the same line of business (Duncan Bannantyne I think). He said he will never forget leaping in to the sea in Liverpool on the first sunny day- not quite like the Med!
The ride all the way from Licata to Agrigento was lovely, the fields, hills, trees and crops all being a rich green and looking very lush.
Agrigento houses the Valley of the Temples and there is plenty to see, all of which we shall explore tomorrow. The hotel receptionist headed us in the direction of a local restaurant for dinner which turned out to be a cracker but as usual what everyone else seemed to be enjoying was unavailable to us – how annoying is this!
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