Travelhector

After some Sicllia-style traffic, I wave goodbye to Martina and continue the lonely part of the journey. Only me. And Hector. And thousands of tourists. And Sicilians. Guess, I won’t be that lonely after all.

The first impression, however, is: empty spaces. Seems that there is no one around at Etna Nord… Might be because of yesterday’s eruption. On my way from Catania to a vineyard north of Etna, Hector decides more or less on his own that we should check if everything is still ok up there. And, strange enough, apart from a huge sulphur cloud, we see blue skies all around us.

Next stop is the famous Gole d’Alcántara: a gorge with artful, yet natural basalt rock and ice-cold water. And a Disneyland of tourism around it. I had an idea about nature, maybe an uncomfortable tour with marching through hip-deep water, stunning views on cathedral-like stonewalls and such things. Instead, it is all about boring pathways, blocked ways to the gorge and picknick-forbidden-all over.

At least, some of the facets become visible by holding up the camera and taking pictures on the assumption that the angle + distance might lead to some photos worth my memory’s space.

Finally, I make it to “the beach”. If you want to see the Gole d’Alcántara, believe me: going down (by elevator even) to the beach is all you need. Do not let yourself get talked into any further than this… Silly enough, it might be no problem at all to wander through the water to further sections around it and find even better paths then the ones created by the tourist-machinery here.

Perhaps it is some common rule during mixed holidays: The first day alone always is a weird one. Consequently, when I turn to a recommended vineyard, there is neither a possibility for wine tasting during the afternoon, nor do they accept tiny shiny Hector on their front-yard for an overnight stay.

In the end, I spend a relaxed evening at the well-known camping paradise, about 20km south of the Etna. And only there, sitting outside and wondering why I seem to feel grains of sand on every surface, I realize that the volcano still is active and erupting diminutive grains of lava. They float through the air, invisible except for µ-sized particles in my wine glass… Finally, the happy end of the day is that Hector took me up on Etna North, down to the Gole d’Alcántara and, via a vineyard, back to the sea – without being boiled, drowned or drunk. Now, isn’t that something?

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Siracusa and its surrounding area have been inhabited since ancient times, now with 2 temporary citizens added (Martina + me), all cosy on the simple camper parking “von Platen”. It looks like leftovers from a former industrial site, now used for busses and camper vans. With lookouts on the adjacent estate, it even comes with the illusion of supervision and bodyguards. Which is not true. True is that we feel comfortable here and appreciate the warm welcome from other guests, from the gatekeeper and the drivers of downtown-shuttle busses.

The Greek Theatre and further Roman relics are right around the corner of our camper parking. On our way, we pass by the lookout tower and admire the futuristic church “Madonna delle Lacrime” that seems to be an elder cousin of Bahá’i Temple in Hofheim/Langenhain.

The historic site of ancient ruins opens at 9:00 am. We arrive at the main spot, the Greek Theatre that awaits us since the 5^th century BC, at 9:10 am, only to bump in two busloads full of pensioners. Although they do not appear like super-sports-seniors, they somehow managed to outperform us. With a sigh we give in to the early-bird-crowd and hand them over our cameras – at least it eases the search for a portrait-photographer.

Next time I come here, I will order more stable weather and organize an evening at the theatre festival. The scenery is inviting and, with wooden planks on the echelons, it must be comfortable enough to enjoy modern interpretations of historic dramas.

We leave the amphitheatre and make our way to the Ear of Dionysius. The spiral shape and the altitude of the natural cavern produce impressive acoustics, tempting people to clap and sing and shout and do any kind of strange noise just for the fun of it.

The ancient Greeks have been successful in culture and politics and it is all obvious how they got there: strong hierarchies on short distances. The quarry for the amphitheatre is just around the corner, interspersed with natural and handmade caves. No wonder that the Romans, some hundreds of years later, took over the place and added a fight arena. More blood, less elegiacs – sometimes culture is a question of habit.

Satisfied with the cultural aspects of today, we get back to Hector. We hop on board and head off to Camping Sabbiadoro which will be our home base for sunny hours, a nice beach bay and a trip to Noto – adventurous public transportation included…

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So. Everybody tells me, Siracusa is soooo beautiful! Well… the first impression is at least ambivalent.

As with most things in life, it seems to be a matter of timing. Huge parts of Ortigia, the baroque peninsula of the city, must have been fabulous around 1705, when the buildings were brand-new. Nowadays it rather looks run-down – just like us during the one rain shower that gets us, jumping athletically under the parasols of the very next restaurant.

While the afternoon enfolds, Siracusa shows more and more facets of beauty, tourism and weather. The sea turns from grey to blue and buildings get brighter, especially when approaching the historic core of Ortigia.

When we reach the Cattedrale metropolitana della Navità die Maria Santissima, we put aside any scepticism and stare fascinated at the mixture of Greek and baroque style, Catholic symbols amid Doric pillars and the dignity ascending behind scattered tourists.

The atmosphere is particular. Peaceful and strange, dark and bright mixing up, somehow pure and decorated all the same.

From the outside, the cathedral is not less interesting. Behind the baroque portal you find the ancient pillars from Greek eras with the later Christian church built in, creating a unique symbiosis of architectural styles.

We continue our way and follow the travel book’s guidance straight into the next church: Santa Lucia alla Badia. It contains a huge painting from Caravaggio that attracts far more people into the small church than it can swallow. Consequently, masses of people shuffle through the aisles, all aiming to get a good selfie in front of the painting, accompanied by the constant megaphone reminders that it is absolutely forbidden to take pictures inside the church.

Further down the road we reach the next highlight which is the phenomenon of a fresh water well located only inches from the salty sea. It attracted settlers already thousands of years ago and still is famous for being the source of European papyrus.

You do not have to drink the water directly from the well though, there are enough bars and restaurants around. A glass of aperitivo and some rays of sun are all it takes to finally convince us of Siracusa’s qualities.

We stroll along some further for the rest of the afternoon, detecting wide space and relaxed students around the Castello Maniace, a studio filled with sensual modern paintings where we have a nice chat with the artist and a local festival where they celebrate stalking men (= men walking on stalks, joking on naïve tourists).

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We conclude the evening with fantastic food at Divino Mare and come to the opinion that Siracusa may not be as charming as Taormina on the first glance, but definitely has a special flair.

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Our first week has been filled with 1.837,7 km (Hector, driving), 900m altitude difference (Stromboli, outbreaking) and overall 9h on ferrys and boats. Now we decide to take it slow and stay one more day at Paradise Camping / Taormina.

Martina is keen on hiking up to mountain villages and crash traditional Italian weddings, while I am just lazy. For the morning, however, we both head off towards Isola Bella – which in fact is not more than a tiny peninsula that lies there like a leftover from Taormina’s basement.

I assume the inch of sea water between Isola Bella and land is handmade, created by some inventive tourist office – and you know what? it works! Everybody is keen on wet feet and on the walk over to the island.

Weather is dithery today, but nothing we cannot cope with. The general rule of our holidays is: Rain is something that happens elsewhere. Every now and then we get told about the “brutto tempo” and Sicilian folks are all upset about it. Compared to the rainy May we had in Germany this year, we are happy about the sun-and-clouds-mixture we face here. Furthermore, I like the diffuse light that almost merges the sky with the sea.

For noon, we choose once more our favorite ristorante Porta Messina, again with fantastic food and friendly service. Taormina does it’s best to make us feel comfortable.

Meanwhile, Martina is on her own mission and finds even more beauty in architecture, landscape and people high above Taormina.

And Hector? Enjoys beach day!

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The roadmap has been set for all highlights of the East coast with the first stop being Taormina. Close enough (at Letojanni), we take over one of the beach spots at Paradise Camping, including blue skys, empty beaches and a mostly regular bus service to Taormina downtown.

It feels like beach hours are rare these days, while in fact we are rewarded with the coldest May within 50 years (true at least for Sicilia). Only in my last week, when the typical heat kicks in, I will realize how favourable the lower temperatures are for the sightseeing parts of the journey.

Taormina offers a vivid historic centre and some ancient stones, most of them to be found at the Greek Theatre. Thanks to multiple tourist groups, we catch at least an impression of its shere size. Even with umpteen or hundreds of people around, the place is far from being crowded.

How we know that it has been built originally by Greek rather than Romans? Due to the site: Greek theatres are always located on fantastic spots that offer beautiful views on the surrounding – just in case the play on stage might bore you.

We continue through the park with somewhat strange, yet fanciful buildings.

In centro storico, traces of all kinds of Sicilian cultures are visible. Strolling through the streets turns out to be quite a pleasant way to let the afternoon pass by.

By coincidence and hunger, we bump into the restaurant Porta Messina and enjoy wonderful pizza (even glutenfree!) and adorable antipasti. We could worship the food for hours, when eventually we continue our way through the city. They have several churches here, of which some are used as churches while others are used as libraries.

Being in Sicily for a couple of days by now, a certain pattern revolves: no matter what kind of job someone has, they all fullfil it with passion. Just like the chef of our lunch restaurant, the bus driver is one of the most passionate workers here, proving the vehicle and the road-turns just right for formula 1 races.

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