Sicily, Part 1

11th May, 2000

We had a very smooth crossing during the night and woke up refreshed.    The Victory, and we now know from others, its sister ships in the Garibaldi line are superb.   The food in the self-service cafeteria is excellent and, much to our surprise, we were able to have our bacon and eggs, to which we are totally addicted.   We returned to our cabin, shown below left, and began our journal before taking advantage of the visit to the bridge offered on a notice in reception.   A view of the bridge is shown below centre and that looking forward, which we rarely see, below right.

From the legends on the bridge, we realised that it was a Japanese ship that had spent some time in service in Japan.   It was equipped with every conceivable aid and was running itself on auto-pilot.   It was equipped with GPS and a display, which was duplicated in reception, showed the ships course and position.   A young lady was pouring over the charts and plotting a course using old-fashioned techniques.   She was a Swiss, living in Palermo, and though not part of the crew was a bridge officer having a little practice with her friends.   She told us a little of Palermo and confirmed that the car drivers were quite crazy.

Below left is another view of the bridge and, centre, is Kate relaxing on the promenade deck.  Below right is our first glimpse of Palermo.   The clear blue skies and baking sun had been replaced by clouds and, as is our tradition, we had brought rain to sunny Sicily.

Disembarking was much easier, but the steep angle of the ramp obliged us to creep off for fear of 'bottoming'.   The port area, compared with Livorno, was quite uncluttered and small.   Before we knew it, we were launched into Palermo traffic - quite a culture shock.   Near the harbour, the roads were in the poorest state of repair we had seen anywhere, with potholes that could break your wheels.    We had probably not done 100 metres before we were being hooted at.    We have heard stories of people getting on-the-spot fines in other parts of Europe - including Italy - but we wonder what one has to do in Sicily to get one.    Everyone, including the carabinieri and Municipal Police, drive and park without rules.

As often occurs while we are trying to find our way, we finished up in the wrong lane at traffic lights and got a chorus of hoots from behind.   We ignored them, of course, as we also did when we had to pull round parked cars.   Erratic parking is a way of life in Sicily, triple and quadruple parking being common.   We were soon to learn, however, that despite the fact that half the cars have at least one corner damaged, though erratic they are mostly awake and, with one exception, we have had little problem.   What is a problem is that, so far as we can see, they have only one white line painter for the whole island and he uses inferior paint so that white lines are difficult to see and, in some places, completely rubbed out.   Our one heart-in-mouth experience, later in the week, was on a complex crossing where, with the lack of lines, we failed to notice we were crossing a major road, looking right when we should have been looking left.   The driver of the little Fiat that missed us by inches, with his tyres smoking, was quite rightly upset, but we did not hang around to debate the issue.

We followed a tortuous route round Palermo to the motorway, after which we found the campsite quite easily.  As we approached, the area was none too pretty, with its cement works straddling the motorway.  After the Belsito at Montecatini, we were not expecting to find anything better.   First impressions were of the dry, sunbaked and untidy scenery - in stark contrast to the green of Tuscany.   The campsite at Isola delle Femmine, north-west of Palermo, called La Plaja, was indeed next to the beach, but it was a rough lava field, not friendly to swimming or sunbathing and covered with litter.   The staff at the site were, however, very friendly and helpful.   Caitano, who seemed to be the camp 'Gofer', helped us get pitched under the shade of olive trees near the loo block.   We gave him a small tip for his efforts and we gained a friend for life.

Caitano kept the site quite clean and tidy and for the 10 days we were there he worked with little break.  The owner's wife would call for him in a sing song voice and he would scurry across from wherever he was.    Caitano seemed not to be family, as he always waited to be invited in for meals, which he took with the owners and their daughter and her husband.   A young French girl worked long hours in the camp office to improve her Italian.   She gave us a map of Palermo and marked the important sights and bus numbers.   The owner's daughter lent us a large map of the area and pointed out the Ford dealer, where we needed a service.

When we arrived we were followed by a coach which had puzzled us a little.     When it got parked we saw that it called itself a "Hotelbus" and was converted to have three levels of sleeping quarters in its back half and a couple of dozen elderly Germans came out of it and set up tables for dinner.    Fortunately, they stayed only the one night.   With what we know about Sicily so far, this seems a good and economic way to see the island and its monuments as you need transport to get to most.

12th May, 2000

We decided to get the car booked in for its service and do some shopping and ventured once again into the outskirts of Palermo.   Finding the dealer turned out to be quite easy, but parking was a nightmare.   They had not seen a 2.9 before, which we found hard to believe, and asked to look at it before booking it in.    Fortunately, the Workshop Administrator spoke good English, though we were to find later that he could turn it on and off.   Despite paying a king's ransom for a new differential in Nice, we soon found it was spraying oil mist around the back and, having crawled under it in Montecatini, David had noticed that no breather could be seen and assumed the oil was coming out of the breather hole.   The dealer agreed to look at it.

We went to the nearby supermarket, which was large and very well stocked.    To our surprise, they even sold satellite cable and connectors, which we wanted because our dish was under the trees and we could not get Astra.   We spent a good part of the afternoon with our long cable, trying to find Astra before it finally dawned on us that the boat trip had taken us well and truly outside the footprint of the satellite and we had to make do with BBC World on Eutelsat.

We decided to ride our bikes, which had been idle for a few weeks, to the town of Isola delle Femmine and located the local butcher and greengrocer.   The town has a small fishing port and the local produce was on sale in the port.   We located the various restaurants and made a note that we should return.

13th May, 2000

Equipped with our specially marked map, we set off to catch the bus for Palermo.    Bus tickets must be bought in advance and stamped on the machines on the bus.   Sicilians, particularly youngsters, seem to think this is absurd and sit watching for the inspectors.   If they don't arrive, their ticket lives to ride another day.   At least half of the passengers did not stamp their tickets.   Some could have been from connecting journeys, still within the validity of the last stamping, but most were dodgers.   The fares were, in any case, remarkably modest.   The buses were quick, frequent, reasonably clean and seemed to service most of Palermo.   One then has to ask the question as to why, with such a good, cheap (indeed for many free) bus system, one would ever think of driving a car in or around Palermo.   This is a serious question to ecologists.    Why, if, in a supposedly poor city like Palermo, with an exemplary bus system, so many people prefer to use their cars, do you think you will ever be able to produce public transport good enough to get affluent people in northern Europe to forsake their cars voluntarily.

The French girl had the bus route slightly wrong and we arrived at the central bus station, shown below left.   We soon found our way to the Via Maqueda, along which much of the interest in Palermo lies.   We dived into a small Church at the eastern end, shown below centre, the quality of which surprised us because of its unexceptional exterior, crammed in between the shops.   We continued up the street, heading for the Quattro Canti at the centre of the old town, where we came across the remarkable buildings shown below right.   In the foreground is St. Cataldo's Church, built in 1154, which has three domes and the Arabic architecture we were to find all over the island.

A view looking up at the domes is shown below left.   Behind St. Cataldo's Church is the Admirals Church, the tower of which is shown below centre and its interior to the right.   While we were there, a bride arrived for her wedding.    Similar ceremonies were in progress at several of the Churches we visited.    Sicily, we now realise, is very much about Churches, which they have in abundance as well as Greek and Norman ruins.

Further west along the street, we found yet another magnificent Church, shown right, opposite the Town Hall, with its exquisite fountains, which were boarded up for repairs.   We moved on the the Quattro Canti, one of which is shown far right.

Quattro Canti is the crossroads between the Via Maqueda and the Via Vittorio Emanuele and is distinguished by having sculptures and fountains set into the buildings of the four corners.   We went up Emanuele, taking in a couple more Churches on the way, and arrived at the Cathedral, shown below.   It has an impressive, but scruffy, enclosed yard in front of it, shown below left, full of young people, who seem not at all interested in religious matters.   Inside the Cathedral, below centre, a wedding was in progress.   The ornate entrance, shown below right, is in a covered entrance way which proved useful as it began to rain as we finished our lunch in the Cathedral yard.

We visited the treasury and crypt, which houses a number of tombs, including the one to the right that, for some reason, had a door slightly ajar carved upon it. Flying bridges, shown far right, connect the Cathedral to the Diocesan Museum.

We walked on to the Royal Palace, shown far left with the emblem of Sicily upon one of its doors.    We were to see the emblem frequently, but this was probably the most crisp example.

Continuing the camp itinerary, we headed for the Church of San Giovanni degli Eremiti, near the Palace.   Built in 1132, with strong Arabic influence, it has five red ochre domes and is shown, from the road, below left.    It has remarkably well-preserved cloisters, shown below centre and right.

The interior of the Church, shown to the right, is simple and graceful.   We decided to finish our tour by looking at the old port and headed towards it through some very scruffy back streets for our first close-up look of Sicily.

After walking through dingy streets, we came upon the ornate Church shown below left and centre, which surprised us, standing as it was in the middle of such apparent poverty.   After an abortive attempt to find an internet cafe, we made our way to La Cala - the old port - which is still a busy fishing port, as well as birthing a few pleasure boats.   As we made our way back to the Via Roma to catch our bus, we noted the dome of another Church, possibly the Oratorio de S. Cita, whose sculpted top impressed us.   We returned to the camp well worn out, but more impressed than we had expected.

14th May, 2000

Keen to see our e-mail, we had spotted a shop in the next village of Sferracavallo with the word Internet in big letters and thought, even though it was Sunday, we would stop by and investigate.   It had been a struggle for the bus to get through the previous day, but today it was worse.

The shop was closed and we spent almost an hour getting nowhere.    It seems that all the cars in Sicily converged on the towns on Sundays.    We tried to get on the motorway to head into Palermo and then out to Monreale, which we were reliably informed would impress us.   However, we finished up heading the wrong way and decided to take in the coast road before heading inland to Partinico, where we had the close shave with the little Fiat.    Undaunted, we continued and at the very next roundabout were treated to more of Sicily's interesting traffic schemes, comprising a roundabout with a main road going through its middle.   Eventually, we found Monreale, which seemed to be teeming with people, but totally lacking anything of interest to look at.   We had entered from the wrong side and the one way system seemed designed to ensure we were kept away from the centre.   After persevering and driving down incredibly narrow streets, we eventually found ourselves at the Cathedral, shown below.

The Duomo at Monreale is Norman and has a dazzling, mosaic-covered interior, unlike anything we had ever seen.   The town was crowded with Sicilian families and we realised, when we returned to our car, that it was in the tow-away zone for a parade that was shortly to take place.   We left Monreale, which is high above Palermo by a zig-zagging road that climbs past the ruin of an old castle.    As we left, we looked down on the Cathedral, shown above right.    More distant views of Palermo, though stunning, photographed poorly because of the haze, which seems frequent here, as in other parts of Italy and Spain.    Perhaps we are poisoning the planet.

We stopped in some woods where a Sicilian family was picnicking, complete with tables and chairs and had our lunch also, but sat on the ground.   

As so often is the case, a few kilometres further we found a much bigger picnic spot with loads of tables and seats and about five coachloads of Sicilians, some playing guitars, others with ghetto blasters.    An elderly Nun was playing football with a gang of five-year olds.    We could not see any obvious reason for the parties, and concluded this was just a favourite picnic spot, close as it was to San Martino della Scale.   We returned to camp, shown right, late afternoon, but were still glad of the shade.

15th May, 2000

The famous ruins at Segesta were our first objective, reached easily and quickly by the motorway.   Now we saw more gentle countryside and many more vineyards.    As we approached, we caught a glimpse of the temple, shown right.

Not speaking Italian, we have to find out things in a round-about way and often miss altogether things of importance.   In this case, we might not have gone up the hill beside the ticket booth had we not seen a bus and people waiting.    The actual town of Segesta is at the top of the hill and its ruins do not look too interesting from far below.   It is, however, spectacular and spans Greek, Roman, Arab and Norman times.   The Greek theatre is shown above right.    There are also remains of a Norman castle and a Mosque.   The view of the Greek temple, shown above, is also taken from the hill town looking down.

We drove on to Erice, one of the earliest settlements, which stands high above Trapani.   It has an old Norman castle, shown right, and breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, shown far right.

Two views of the interior of its Duomo are shown to the left.  While at times we get exhausted by some of our sight-seeing, we were humbled by the sight of a very old lady and her slightly younger companion plodding the steep cobbled streets and climbing the steps to the Duomo.

We left Erice to descend by the minor (white) road into Trapani.    From Erice and this road we breathtaking views of the city and, as it was getting late, were not sure we wanted to venture into it.  A little way down another very old lady was shuffling along, down the hill.   We had seen no houses, nor for that matter any cars, and were a little puzzled as to where she had come from.    She flagged us down and we felt obliged to stop.   Speaking no Italian, we deduced that she wanted to go to Trapani and cleared a back seat for her.    Erice is some 750 metres above the port and she had only just begun the descent.   We could not believe she would have made it to the bottom.    It took us almost 15 minutes in the car.   She asked to be dropped at the hospital and, as there were plenty of people around, we felt comfortable to leave her there.   We decided not to bother going further into Trapani.   It was rush-hour and we had seen enough traffic.

16th May, 2000

Two places intrigued us, Piana degli Albanesi and Corleone and we set off to see them.   This involved driving across Palermo on the dual carriageway that connects to the motorway either side.  The Sicilians have an interesting habit of making extra lanes, which is helped by the fact that the two lanes are each very wide compared with other European roads and one can probably fit at least six Cinquecento's across with comfort.   The occasional bus and truck does, however, spoil their logic somewhat.   At the appropriate point, we found the road for Corleone and headed south.

A little way out, we had to leave the ample main road to Sciacca and make our way onto the smaller road.   This took us to Altofonte where, needing petrol, we followed the sign to petrol rather than Piana.  This left us going through the town of Altofonte, which if every road were in perfect order would have been frought.   Our first mistake was waiting at a red light.   The bus driver behind us hooted a couple of times then walked forward, pressed a button beneath the red light and said something to us in Italian and waved us through the light.    It seems it was a request light and only applied anyway to the road straight ahead and not to the right turn we needed.   We soon found that our pace was insufficient for the locals, who hooted at us when we refused to run down pedestrians or passed double-parked cars too slowly.   Then there was the diversion and we found ourselves in streets barely wide enough for our juggernaut.  Eventually, we found ourselves on the right road where we should have been half an hour earlier had we not stopped for petrol.   We then had a dramatic ascent along a winding road from which we could look back at Palermo, shown below left.

Once over the hill, we found ourselves in more reasonable terrain, amenable to agriculture, and found our way to Piana degli Albanesi, whose town sign as you enter is in Albanian, as are many of the street signs.   We are not sure why, but this little isolated town retains its Albanian culture.   The Church, shown above centre, looks ordinary from the outside but its interior decor, shown above right, is unlike anything we had seen so far.

The map shows a lake near the town and, after a couple of attempts, we found the dirt track to it, had our picnic lunch on its shore and posed for the picture to the right.   It was a glorious day and the lush green valley, surrounded by hills, looked a paradise.

We moved on and, after an arduous drive through beautiful country, came eventually to Corleone, a small town famous for being famous after the town name was used in a famous film.   It is a pleasant enough place with a small park in its centre, shown above right, with a poignant war memorial of trees bearing soldiers' names.    We did a little shopping at the greengrocer's van and returned across country via S. Cipirello and Partinico to the motorway and back to camp.

After such a busy day we tend to just relax in the evening, particularly after a good dinner washed down with wine.   We had brought with us all manner of diversions including various musical instruments, that we were going to learn to play, and language courses.   We ought to catch up on our journal but in reality most evenings we become couch potatoes as do most other campers.    This was such an evening but while laying back on his bunk David could hear an intermittent strange bubbling sound.   Reluctant to move, it took a while to investigate.

Horror of horrors - the inboard hot water tank was leaking and the under bunk storage area was filling with water!    The drain valve was opened and we began bailing.   Another plastic connection had failed.    We were later to meet another couple who had had exactly the same experience.   With hindsight we should have realised when we found the replacement part at Christmas for the first leak so easily that this was a common problem and should have replaced all three similar parts and carried a spare.  If it had been winter it would have been our worst nightmare as the van was damp enough without leaks.   At least it was now warm and dry and the van was dried out inside three days, though at first we had to strip out everything and pile it high, then run the fan heater.   The worst problem was the foam-backed carpet which took ages to dry.

17th May, 2000

The car was taken in to the dealer for its service.   We had a 10 o'clock appointment and were mildly complained at for being 20 minutes early.   We parked with difficulty and, when asked to drive into their diagnostic bay, found that someone else had parked, leaving a gap that required wing mirrors to be folded.    This was a new experience.  We were to have a free diagnostic check which sounded very customer centred.   We soon realised, however, that it amounted to an inventory of the vehicle condition since we imagine that it might be convenient to blame the latest Palermo dent, broken wing mirror or missing aerial on the garage.   To avoid this, they noted every dent and scratch and made the customer sign a form.   We explained as best we could that the diff. had been replaced and they saw the oil leak.  We mentioned the apparently missing breather and we felt sure they fully understood.

We bravely set off on foot, in ferocious heat, to find the road along which we knew the camp bus went in the area of San Lorenzo.   Only about one bus in four with the number 628 actually goes as far as  our camp and, needless to say, the first one that came was not one of them.   Along with the mad dogs we walked the remaining two kilometres to the camp, only to be passed half way by the bus we should have waited for.    Kate did the washing and, at about four, the garage called on our mobile to say that the car was ready.   David returned by bus, missed the stop at San Lorenzo and had to get another bus back before finally finding the garage.   The oil leak, he was told, was from the oil seals of the brand new differential, which needed to be replaced.   This seemed highly unlikely, but they were, supposedly, the experts.   David had also agreed to do the shopping at the nearby supermarket single-handed, which was a near unique experience.

18th May, 2000

Troubled by the supposed leaking seals, David donned his overalls and crawled under the car first thing in the morning and groped around the oily differential.   The problem was soon identified.   The dealer in Nice had not only forgotten to fit the breather, but had also forgotten to remove the transit plug that was fitted to prevent the ingress of dirt.   The diff. was sealed and, as soon as it got hot, and climbed mountains, as we had done frequently, became pressurised and oil mist was blown out through the seals.  Despite their exceptional courtesy and apparent efficiency and being given the broadest hints, the garage had mis-diagnosed the problem.   We sent an irate fax to the car's maker then, after reflection, went back to the dealer to see if they had the breather pipe.    Having established the part number, we returned to the workshop and, with pen and paper, got them to understand the problem.   The manager and the mechanic who had serviced the car got involved in the discussions and, without speaking their language, it became clear that they now realised exactly what was wrong and that the breather pipe was sat on top of the diff. and not in it.   They asked us to return after 2.30 p.m. and said they could fix it.

We whiled away the time with a trip to Mondello, which passes for Palermo's beach resort and is shown right.    Virtually all the beach is fenced off by private bars and cafes though we were able to find a stretch that was open to the public.   As with most things, we suspect that most Sicilians would get in for free anyway.

We returned to the garage and they promptly took the car and put it on a hoist.    The workshop administrator, who spoke good enough English, understood quite well that I wanted the plug that had been left in put in a plastic bag and the invoice for the work to state clearly the rectification that was necessary following the earlier repair.   To our initial horror, they removed the cover plate, dropping all the oil into a catch tank.  Without removing the diff., this is the only practical way to remove the shipping plug.  They seemed not to want us to watch them and closed the sliding garage doors.   After two hours the job was complete, road tested and inspected.   Now we encountered the famous omerta.   The plug disappeared and they stubbornly refused to acknowledge that they had fitted the breather pipe.  The administrator's English disappeared and the bill simply referred to rectifying an oil leak.   Clearly we shall be having words with the car's maker when we return.   The smell of oil when the car is hot has disappeared and we hope to have seen the end of the problem.

19th May, 2000

Our guide book tells us that in the middle of Sicily is a hill town, Enna, worth seeing and, as we can reach it mostly by motorway from Palermo, we decided to go and look.  We returned to Palermo and its crazy drivers and this time drove right across to the Messina motorway on the far side.   The traffic was much easier on the motorway and we were soon at the junction where we turned south for the interior.   The drive on the motorway is exceptionally beautiful and even the motorway itself, built on columns, looks graceful as it winds steeply up the valleys.

We decided, however, to do the last bit on the old S121.   We left the motorway at a junction called "The Bridge with Five Arches", which we crossed on the way to Enna.   We climbed steeply out of the valley and took the picture, above right, looking back at the motorway.   This road was much slower but gave a real feel for the isolation of the interior.   In the distance, as we approached Enna, we could see two hill towns as the second, Calascibetta, is across the valley to the north of it.   We stopped on a steep hill to photograph the town and found that, once again, the heat and the steep climb had made our starter motor inoperative.   Missing both the hammer and the hydraulic jack handle, a big wrench was pressed into service.  

We got into Enna just as they were locking up the Tourist Office and had to make do with our guide book description.   We lunched in the square next to the Duomo, shown below left, then walked to the Castle, which sadly was closed for repairs.   We managed to photograph the bronze statue, shown below, second left, behind workman's shuttering, then walked to the rocky outcrop beyond the castle, from which there were spectacular views.    Below right are the views across the valley to Calascibetta and looking back at Enna.  

We left Enna and returned to the north coast, heading east to see the holiday town of Cefalu. We over-shot our stop on the péage and came off to the east, where it ends and there are some spectacular high viaducts.

Above centre is a view looking down on the new port of Cefalu and to the right is the Duomo, built by Roger II, inside which there are some impressive mosaics, though not on the scale of Monreale.   It had been a long, hot day and we still had to mix with the madmen of Palermo before reaching our campsite again, well worn out.

Today was Kate's birthday and, as a present, David had bought some Asti Spumanti which served as an aperitif before going out for a pizza at one of the pizzerias in the town.

20th - 21st May, 2000

Being a Grand Prix weekend, we decided to stay put as we had good satellite pictures from Italian TV.  We did the shopping and planned to watch the qualifying.   To our horror, we found that just for the F1 they scrambled the satellite picture - not dramatically, but enough to spoil our watching of the qualifying - so we watched the closing stages on the camp TV as our terrestrial reception was poor.   After lunch, we went back to the supermarket for a TV aerial as the stations we wanted were on VHF.   TV aerials were about the only thing they didn't sell.    We returned and almost immediately found an iron-monger  near the camp and got the necessary bits.  By the end of the day, we had a 'Heath Robinson' set-up to get the aerial as high as we could and were back in business.   Surprisingly, we found that our super German 'CE' marked satellite decoder interfered with the VHF channels and had to be switched off.

On the Sunday we did some writing, watched the Grand Prix and prepared to move off the following day.   After days of baking sunshine, the weather forecast indicated clouds coming from Africa and we really should have got our awning down.   Being lazy and wanting to breakfast under it the next day, we left it up and in the night, of course, it rained heavily.

Last updated:  18/03/01