Friday 5th and Saturday 6th March
Marsala to Pozzallo

We wanted to visit a Marsala Bodega to see how the process worked so pedaled off (not in our bike clothes as we thought they might not think they were quite the thing). The best known one was just a few miles along the coast and is open all the year. However, on this particular Friday they were doing a private tour so we were unsuccessful. Instead we explored the beautiful old town of Marsala which has a very ‘genteel’ air to it, and some beautiful buildings. We couldn’t really do it justice as we had to collect our hire car from Trapani airport so as to continue along the south coast back to Pozzallo.


Piazza Comunale where after having failed to get on a tour we tried a sweet and a dry Marsala



For some extraordinary reason there is no public transport along this part of Sicily and it would have taken 2 days with many changes to get from A to B by train. Anyway, it was all a bit tedious but at least we only took 4 hours to drive to Pozzallo and saw some very varied scenery. Pozzallo is where the ferry leaves for Malta and there is a small quiet town beside the port.

Having failed to look at the Caves d'Ispica when we cycled from Noto to Modica we used the opportunity of having to go to Ragusa to visit them effortlessly in a car. See the cliff the caves are in. We would have had to cycle down one side and up the other.

Saturday was a very dull day indeed, and we really achieved nothing. We booked our ferry tickets for Sunday night, and then drove to Ragusa where we had to drop the car off. It is very pretty countryside around here with beautiful old villas mostly locked up surrounded by small fields with stone walls. At this time of year it is all very green and looks quite like Ireland, with contented cattle grazing and stone walls. We hung around Ragusa for hours trying to catch a train or bus back and finally made it home just before dark, after a bit of a clash with a vile ticket attendant whilst trying to board the train. No ticket office, ticket machine broken, ticket agency closed and not allowed on the train or we’d have to pay a 50 euro fine for not having a ticket! Anyway it was their loss as we caught the bus which was cheaper if rather longer.

Vivi couldn't believe that people would glue money to the street and was determined to prize these coins off!
At 19.45 pm we then received a text from the ferry company saying that the sailing on Sunday was likely to be canceled so they advised us to catch the 19.30 pm ferry tonight from Catania (60 miles or so away) instead! So we shall see what tomorrow brings.
We had a nice fish supper in town and whilst walking home the town was full of young going out clubbing. They were probably as skimpily dressed as those at home but no one was drinking, drunk or fighting. Rather different from Saturday nights in Britain.

Trapani to Marsala

Thursday 4th March.
Trapani to Marsala

This should be at the bottom but I deleted it by mistake! It's an old Marsala bodega sadly long since fallen upon hard times since the days when Woodhouse and Admiral Nelson did business.

In the night the Scirocco had abated a bit, but soon raised it’s ugly head again as the sun rose. However we wanted to move on, so headwind or not we were on our way. We stopped at the internet cafe to book into somewhere tonight and met a man who left England a month before us and was living on his boat with his son in the lee of the old castle at the northern end of this harbour. We had seen a beleaguered looking yacht going around in circles yesterday and this was him. Apparently his mooring line (the one provided by the harbour-master) had come adrift in all the wind yesterday and luckily he had been on board because if not, the boat would have been on the rocks. It was good to chat to another Englishman escaping like us.
In the bar where the Trapani B&B 
sent us for breakfast they sold the local delicacy - marzipan fruit. We didn't try it but it looks delicious.

The ride to Marsala was pretty dull this area being flat and fairly built up, but we did see our first swallow for some time, which is not so surprising as they will be arriving in Dorset in the next 3 weeks. There was a short spell where there were no houses but that just intensified the wind strength and Vivi was lucky not to be blown into the middle of the road. As we approached Marsala we reckoned it was about time we tried out the local wine and after a little confusion were given a glass of Rosso which was nice but when we were half way down it the barman brought us a glass each of the sweet port like Marsala which is really what we were after and was extremely good.

Ah, that first glass of Marsala!

Salt production - unlike the Spanish the Italians cover theirs with roof tiles.

After that the ride was a lot easier, we picnicked on the most easterly point of Sicily – where they venerate the lives of those lost in the 3rd Punic war 149-146BC. At this point the Tyrrhenian Sea joins the Mediterranean Sea and it was fairly churned up and windswept. On the other side of the road was a long abandoned Marsala Bodega. It must have been a very impressive building in the days when Nelson was buying tanker loads of it to serve to the Navy. An historical point here for Dorset people, it was all started by none other than John Woodhouse, who worked out that if you added alcohol, this wine would keep for longer. Apparently there are over 160 different varieties now all sold under the same umbrella.

Where the seas meet - bit lumpy today!

In memory of the Punic wars

First green leaves of the 2010 Marsala vintage.

Once around the tip of the promontory we had a tail wind which was bliss so shot along. The sea had brought in mountains of seaweed which had the appearance of rocks all along the coast and gave off a very pungent smell. We arrived at our hotel with an extra skin of seaweed attached to us and our panniers.

Washed up seaweed - an awful lot of which seemed to get stuck to us too!

Our hotel was 3 miles outside the town and is apparently the height of luxury in the summer, but it had just re-opened so had a forlorn/disused air. We were sent across the road for supper where there was an enormous restaurant with about 100 people having a family party. We were put in a corner and it was better than watching telly! The noise was unbelievable and there were babies and children running everywhere. They managed to cook us some delicious pasta with crab sauce and then insisted on giving us fabulous tiny ricotta and filo pastries and a glass of Marsala so we were absolutely groaning, luckily we had to walk home. However much you say that you only want one course, they have a habit of producing something extra which is very kind but not at all good for the waistline. The other night we munched our way through pizza which is delicious but always too big to finish, and then they produced pizza covered with Nutella for pudding! The chef hovers around saying ‘you like-ah ma pizza?’ so on we chomp.

Trapani and Erice

Tuesday and Wednesday 2nd and 3rd March
Trapani

Our room at the B&B has a balcony and overlooks the commercial harbour at Trapani. This isn’t to say it’s all sailors and fighting, it is frightfully genteel and RO-RO ferries from Genova, Civitavecchia, Tunisia and Libya arrive to disgorge a few lorries and then leave at all times of the day and night. Silently like ghosts they are there at 11pm and replaced by another one by 7am and we haven’t heard a thing! Shipping strikes me as absolutely fascinating, especially the hundreds of container vessels we’ve seen seemingly abandoned anywhere from Cadiz, Gibraltar, Malaga, Valencia, Barcelona and then all the way down the Italian west coast right down to every bay in Sicily.
After our rotten day yesterday we thought it would be fun to spend today on one of the Egadi Islands which are a short ferry trip from Trapani. Our landlady had given us the name of the island which was best to cycle around, but unfortunately we had left it a bit late to make a proper day of it so contented ourselves with cycling around the town, the majority of which is traffic free. It was a lovely sunny day and we enjoyed ourselves so much we decided to stay a third night and to visit Erice tomorrow. We ate a picnic on our balcony as it seemed to be the most sheltered sunny spot in town and had a pretty relaxed day.



Garibaldi who landed at Marsala but is big here in Trapani too.
They are celebrating 150 years since he united Italy in April with tall ships, festivals and all sorts.







Looking north from Trapani





The port from our balcony







Old men, like the dogs hang about everywhere keeping out of the wind!


On Wednesday morning we took the bus up to Erice, the hilltop town overlooking Trapani, which is 752 meters above sea level. It was not a particularly good day weather-wise as the Sirocco wind had got up in the night and all the streets were covered in clothes pegs which had blown off people’s balconies, (most useful!) leaves and rubbish. The bus driver was a pretty relaxed sort of fellow who was able to negotiate hairpin bends up the side of the mountain at the same time as talking on his mobile and making expansive gestures with his mate sitting behind him, thus leaving no hands on the gear stick or steering wheel! We made it and were disgorged at the beginning of the old town along with half a dozen other tourists. Up here it was blowing a hurricane so any idea of admiring the fantastic views of most of Western Sicily faded fast. It was all you could do to stay upright but we walked at a brisk pace up to the Castello di Venere which is perched on the top of the mountain. Previously the site was a Greek temple but good old Roger the Norman destroyed that and built a castle instead! In high season there is apparently a main street full of lovely souvenirs and cafes, but today the shop owners had sensibly decided not to bother coming up the mountain to open up. (No sign of your hat, James!) We huddled in a cafe with a few others until it was time to catch the next bus back. There was such a strong wind that the loo door in the cafe slammed repeatedly so in the end the waitress had to weigh a chair down with 2 crates of drink to wedge against it and then was most irritated with anyone who had to use it. However it was good to have been there and the views really are amazing and we could plot our route for the next day as you could see the roads below for miles.







Girl and loo door! (not Vivi)






The view from the top of Erice and other pics.
Rumour has it the Earps and the Nevs walked up here but we don't believe it!

In common with the rest of Italy, Erice and Trapani have gangs of dogs everywhere but in contrast these ones seem fat and contented and just lie around the streets and doorways snoozing and catching a few rays.
Outside the Trapani Duomo we met the same two German beggars who had accosted us outside the Duomo in Syracuse – last time he was earning his keep singing operatic arias, this time he just rattled a cup – we all recognized each other and laughed. We felt a strange bond with our fellow travelers, they didn’t bother asking us for money I think we probably look as down at heel as they do!
We had enjoyed our couscous so much 2 nights ago we went back to the same restaurant and had the same again!

Agrigento to Trapini

Monday 1st March
Agrigento to Trapani
What a day! The plan was to get from Agrigento to Trapani which is only about 70 miles as the crow flies, but there are no direct routes by public transport. We were trying to avoid Palermo as the whole city was shutting down for the day. A top lawyer had been murdered last week and his funeral is today. Everyone is so fed up with crime that they were marching in sympathy for his family. Anyway to cut a long story short, we were meant to take the train there as it is not possible to bicycle, but the lines were closed for repair work. Trenitalia replacement buses don’t take bikes so we were told to book on a bus with the local bus company which we did.
That done we set off for a look at the convent and it’s museum and the amazing ‘stucco’ church. The museum was quite interesting but the church was unbelievable. Sadly years of neglect meant that quite a lot of the stucco had fallen off (un-stuck-oed), the ceiling was badly damaged by water ingress and the paintings blackened by damp and damaged. Nevertheless we have never seen such ornate decoration and such a good example of workmanship.

So back to the bus - and the driver refused to let us on (do we look that bad!). Next problem we had to fight for a refund. By this time it was 2.30 in the afternoon and we hadn’t even started. So back to the station where we saw the ‘relief bus’ (who don’t take bikes). However, desperate times etc we approached the driver in truly grovel-y mode and to our amazement the driver said ‘fine – no problem’ so we had two minutes to collect our kit or he was off without us. Once again the Guardian angel had stepped in. 50 miles on we were deposited on about the highest point of Sicily (perfectly beautiful but very remote) and at the mercy of another train driver, who didn’t want the bikes either. Luckily our friendly bus driver prevailed upon him and we were allowed on. We arrived in Palermo just in time to take the train on to Trapani, to be told that someone had fallen in front of that train (did he jump or was he pushed) and it wouldn’t be going! Having booked in to a b and b in Trapani we really did want to get there so off we went to the bus station. A black cat had crossed our path a bit earlier and it worked as this nice driver let us load the bikes in the hold of the bus and 2 hours later we were in Trapani. It was 9pm and we were exhausted. Our land lady was charm itself, gave us a glass of Marsala (a town about 10 miles to the south) and things began to look a whole lot better.
She sent us out for supper to a fish restaurant around the corner, where we ate the much renowned Cuscus al Pesce, which is a most delicious local take on couscous with king prawns, calamari, garlic, tomatoes, spices and very good fish sauce to spoon over if wanted. The prawns and Calamari were some of the best ever tasted - you could eat the whole prawn, the shell was crunchy and very tasty - We like Trapani!

Agrigento

Vivi in cheeky mood at the temple of Castor and Pollux!









The only temple to remain almost complete after the earthquakes and various sackings by invaders 'Concordia'



The remains of what would have been the largest Doric temple in Europe - the temple of Zeus - but it was sacked before completion by the Carthaginians in 406BC. Ironically the foundations had been laid by Carthaginian slaves 100 years earlier! The top of a Doric column here shows just how huge it would have been and has been lying here undisturbed ever since.





A Telamon with arms raised to support the temple's weight (Temple of Zeus)







Almond blossom






Alec trying to blend as an American to better hear what their guide was saying!





Sunday 28th February
Agrigento

Agrigento was flattened by the allies in the war and is now full of ugly high rise blocks, but fortunately the Valley of the Temples wasn’t, and it is nearly as spectacular as the Valley of the Kings. It is half way between Agrigento and the sea with each temple on top of a hill. We spent several hours exploring. The Lonely Planet says Feb and March are the best time to visit because the almond blossom is out and there are few tourists. They are right and the whole valley was awash with blooming fruit trees and wild flowers. (It pained us greatly to have to buy a Lonely Planet as it is yet another thing to carry, but we were very much in the dark without it here as there is so little local information. It doubly pained us as we were charged 24 euros for it and on the back it clearly said £14.99, but there was only 1 book in English so we were stuck) Anyway it is very good and we know much more now!
There is a combination of Greek and Roman temples which were built between 700 B.C and 400 A.D. Like everything else in these parts they had been almost completely destroyed by earthquakes, but fortunately a Capt Hardcastle retired to the hills here after WW1. He was particularly interested in ancient remains and motivated the local community to uncover and re-erect many of the columns. We had a picnic in the shade of an olive grove and it was very peaceful.

Licata to Agrigento

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!

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.

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!

Modica to Licata

Friday 26th February
Modica - Licata

We are familiarizing ourselves with the railway systems of Sicily as they seem to be the easiest way of seeing the island for those places that are out of reach by bike. We were taking the train to Licata on the coast this afternoon but had a free morning. We decided to brave it and drop in on St George’s Duomo in Modica, which we had slightly put off doing as it is up 250 steps. Anyway it was well worth the visit. Roger the Norman had laid the foundations for it in 1090 rather well so it had mostly survived the various earthquakes. Quite a lot of baroque bits had been added, but it was quite unusual in that is was painted pale blue and white inside and was very light and airy. St George is a favourite of ours as we were married on 23rd April, (his Saint’s Day and which really SHOULD be a bank holiday in England!) There was a rather nice statue of him and the dragon in a side chapel and also a good engraving in silver on the altar.

St George's silver altar

St George himself

Whilst deciding what to choose for our lunch in a little corner shop stuffed full of goodies, we met another British lady. She and Alec were both in a chatty mood and 20 minutes later the man behind the counter was still waiting to tot up her shopping. We didn’t discover what she actually does for a living but she lives in Northern Italy and owns a house in Modica, which she is selling. She mentioned various places we should visit, one being a restaurant with 2 Michelin stars in Licata.
We are becoming quite fond of the tiny 2 carriage train which goes up and down this part of the country and the views were spectacular. Licata is a little further along the coast from Gela which has a rather bad reputation so we gave that a miss.

Gela - not all bad, some very well tended vines.

Licata is very much not on the tourist route either which is a bit sad really as there are a number of interesting ruins in the hills, and 20k’s of good beaches. The town itself just hasn’t quite made it and money is obviously in short supply as it was mostly very run down. However we had booked into a b and b in San Gerolemo’s square near the port. Once we had found it winding our way through many very narrow alleys, it was great. The clever owner has been slowly buying up the very ancient houses around the square and turning them into a quirky b and bs. Our bedroom had the bathroom up some stairs on a deck suspended from the ceiling. There was much use of spiral staircases as some of the building was an old tower. The most lovely Sri Lankan boy looked after us so well. He is working over here having been sponsored by some Europeans who met his family in the aftermath of the Tsunami.

The view across the square

Our B&B the tall pink one!

Despite a concerted attempt at finding the 2 star Michelin restaurant, we failed, but what we found was more than adequate but it would have been good to see what 2 stars Sicilian style was like.