Catania, Sicily
Despite the fact that my great-grandfather came from Sicily to America, I don’t feel a strong connection to this place at all. I enjoy it, I want to come back, but I don’t feel inspired the way I did in Vietnam or Jordan or even Egypt (despite not liking Egypt very much, I certainly had strong opinions). Maybe it is too similar to home because it is a western country. Or maybe this is too short a time—Greece in 10 hours, Italy in 12 hours. All of Europe in 8 days. But I have managed to pack in a lot of things in such a short period of time. I just keep reminding myself that this is like an appetizer, it isn’t supposed to satisfy me, just get my attention.
Catania is a city that feels like any other city with lots of people and cars and shops. I like it only for the fact that it is in Sicily, which means I am in Sicily. I leave Catania as quickly as possible though. Taormina, Iso Bella beach, is an hour and a half drive North from Catania. I bought an Italian bikini and laid on the beach. I went snorkeling in the Mediterranean. I ate pizza and panini and granite and gelato. I drank cappuccino in a small café. I bought wine. Taormina is a cute quaint little town built up and down a mountain looking out over the ocean. It’s apparently a very fashionable place to vacation for Europe’s jet-set crowd. The beach is beautiful though so I understand why it would become fashionable.
Last thought on Sicily- I love how passionate the people are. After Japan it is refreshing to see so much emotion used in everything. The man who changes my money is the most bored man in the world—it oozes out of his pores. No man has ever been as bored as he is. The Gellateria people give me the most enthusiastic “Pregos” I have ever heard in any language (they most definitely beat the Irrashaimase’s in Japan). On our way back to port from the beach the bus driver gets into a scuffle with people who want to get on the bus but aren’t allowed to (no more seats). Not only do all 10 people trying to get on the bus scream and yell and sit down on the stairs refusing to move, but the bus driver and all of the passengers get involved. Everyone is trying to outdo everyone else in enthusiasm, anger and volume. I tried to join in with my limited Italian (“Tutto Bene”, “Delicioso”, “Grazie”, “Prego”, “Limone di Granite”, “Scuza”, “Pizza”) but I’m not sure it helps much. While I am not blown away by Sicily itself, I do love the people and can’t wait to go back.
Despite the fact that my great-grandfather came from Sicily to America, I don’t feel a strong connection to this place at all. I enjoy it, I want to come back, but I don’t feel inspired the way I did in Vietnam or Jordan or even Egypt (despite not liking Egypt very much, I certainly had strong opinions). Maybe it is too similar to home because it is a western country. Or maybe this is too short a time—Greece in 10 hours, Italy in 12 hours. All of Europe in 8 days. But I have managed to pack in a lot of things in such a short period of time. I just keep reminding myself that this is like an appetizer, it isn’t supposed to satisfy me, just get my attention.
Catania is a city that feels like any other city with lots of people and cars and shops. I like it only for the fact that it is in Sicily, which means I am in Sicily. I leave Catania as quickly as possible though. Taormina, Iso Bella beach, is an hour and a half drive North from Catania. I bought an Italian bikini and laid on the beach. I went snorkeling in the Mediterranean. I ate pizza and panini and granite and gelato. I drank cappuccino in a small café. I bought wine. Taormina is a cute quaint little town built up and down a mountain looking out over the ocean. It’s apparently a very fashionable place to vacation for Europe’s jet-set crowd. The beach is beautiful though so I understand why it would become fashionable.
Last thought on Sicily- I love how passionate the people are. After Japan it is refreshing to see so much emotion used in everything. The man who changes my money is the most bored man in the world—it oozes out of his pores. No man has ever been as bored as he is. The Gellateria people give me the most enthusiastic “Pregos” I have ever heard in any language (they most definitely beat the Irrashaimase’s in Japan). On our way back to port from the beach the bus driver gets into a scuffle with people who want to get on the bus but aren’t allowed to (no more seats). Not only do all 10 people trying to get on the bus scream and yell and sit down on the stairs refusing to move, but the bus driver and all of the passengers get involved. Everyone is trying to outdo everyone else in enthusiasm, anger and volume. I tried to join in with my limited Italian (“Tutto Bene”, “Delicioso”, “Grazie”, “Prego”, “Limone di Granite”, “Scuza”, “Pizza”) but I’m not sure it helps much. While I am not blown away by Sicily itself, I do love the people and can’t wait to go back.
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