Dr Uyterhoeven Has Left the Building

 I snapped this picture the day that we left the cabin, but never really had the opportunity to post anything about it because we were stranded without wifi for the first month of our time here in Sicily (and then it slipped my mind). I left my old cane hanging from the apple tree in front of the cabin, knowing that my son, who moved into the cabin, would get the reference.

One of the iconic images from Brooks Hansen's brilliant novel The Chess Garden (one of my all-time favorite books), is Dr. Gustav Uyterhoeven's cane left hanging from a tree in the Chess Garden behind their house in Dayton, Ohio when he has left to visit the Antipodes (South Africa, where he passes away). This is the framing story for the series of letters that he writes home of his adventures. Unlike Dr. Uyterhoeven, I do plan to make it home safe and sound. However, I think it will inspire me to write my soon-to-be grandson a series of Uyterhoeven-worthy letters from my own personal Antipodes.

Nicky

 I saw an article recently, either on the BBC or Guardian website, which discussed how fascinating travelers in foreign lands find grocery stores. I don't know if I find them fascinating, although you can learn a lot about that culture from their stores. Maybe that will inspire a post someday. In the meantime, we picked up this toilet paper at the local Acqua Sapone, and I snapped a picture of it for no reason that was at all interesting (and instead typically childish): one of my cousins is named Nick (one of my most ardent CFL buddies). I'm not certain why the name Nicky was chosen for toilet paper here in Italy (although, of course, it might not be an Italian brand), but it has already justified its existence.

You can imagine how fast I sent this to my cousin Nick. I assured him that now I could physically do what I had been metaphorically doing to him for decades.

Even the Plants are Creepy in Sicily

 After seeing the same set of plants for the last two and a half months, today I finally went out of my way to figure out exactly what they are (by asking our friend Carla, who responded with the answer is about two minutes). These are the flowing stalks that grow of an agave americana, a succulent that you can see all over Sicily. Just watch Inspector Montalbano, and they're perpetually popping up in the background of one scene or another.

Just turn me loose on an overcast day, and you're get more pictures than you could ever need or want. They accompany me on my morning walks along the coast.

Via Sebastiano Caboto

 I guess it's not too surprising that a country with so much coastline would produce so many explorers. Of course, it's sometimes hidden because the names are anglicized, so just as Giovanni Caboto became John Cabot, his son Sabastiano Caboto became Sabastian Cabot. Sabastiano was born in Venice, probably, sometime between 1474 and 1484. We say probably because, truthfully, we're not really certain, and Caboto himself gave conflicting versions of the story, either being born in Bristol and later spending time in Venice, or being born in Venice and later spending time in Bristol. We know that he accompanied his father on some of his early explorations, and then later embarked on his own voyages, sailing around the coast of North America, in the pay of the English, and later South America, in the pay of the Spanish. 

There's some disagreement, or at least more than I realized, about the veracity of his accounts, and whether or not he overstated his own explorations and "borrowed" some of his father's glory. 

On the Other Hand

 Of course, the other side of that weather breaking, is, well, the weather breaking, and we've had some true rain storms lately, made all the more impressive by the fact that it hadn't rained in months - and so everything just seems all the more unexpected and powerful. I somehow managed to capture a little window on Monday morning to get in my two mile walk, although the wind just about picked me up and blew me into the sea. The true storm was just beginning. Our recycling bins were sliding back and forth on our balcony.

And to think, we were on the relatively peaceful side of the island. I can't imagine how gusty it was on the southern coast.

This picture can't begin to do justice to how windy it was. I really should have broken out my Alouettes sweatshirt. As it was, I just about lost my Till It's Gone (Ali McGuirk) hat, which I had to use my left hand to keep from sailing away (another disadvantage of walking with a cane: one less hand to keep oneself from disaster). 

The view from our unofficial widow's walk off our bedroom. Trust me, there are mountains over there.

Via Giuseppe Maniaci

 Here's another street that I walk by quite a bit, and it also shows how I'm benefitting from investigating the story behind the signs (which shows that they do serve a purpose, although maybe I'm the only one nerdy enough to do the research). Giuseppe Maniaci was a communist leader who was gunned down here in Terrasini, either because he was a communist leader or because he stole some olives or had run afoul of some mafioso figures (this latter choice seems to bear the greatest probability, although the three suspected mafiosi were never charged). 

This is such a beautiful and tragic land.

On the One Hand

 Since the weather has broken we're now able to do something that couldn't dream of doing in August and early September: actually go outside in the middle of the day. It's hard to discuss the Sicilian sun without it seeming like an urban legend, but it is truly fearsome. It sort of turns us all into vampires, and we avoid direct exposure to the sun as much as we can. Anyway, on Sunday we decided to actually go for a walk down the hill to grab lunch at Assettati. Somehow, we didn't know that Salvatore served lunch on Sunday (we also didn't know that he served dessert for a long time to, for some reason, which we've made up for). There are many reasons to go to Assettati (the food is wonderful), but one of them is Salvatore himself. We popped in around 1:00 and I gave him some gentle grief, "Salvatore, you didn't tell us you served dessert, and then we found out and started ordering dessert. Then we didn't know that you were open for lunch on Sunday, and we found out and here we are. What else are you hiding from us?" He smiled and replied, "Oh, so much. I have to leak information slowly." Great answer.

Once we were settled, I simply asked Salvatore what I was having. It turned out I was having spaghetti with clams and sea urchins, which is not on the menu, but it's clearly what I was having. Delicious.

Janet had swordfish and lot of grilled veggies, although I think she was allowed to order. As always, she is more beloved one of us.

On the way back we decided to take advantage of the cooler weather and stopped at Barinello for an Aperol spritz. It was Janet's first opportunity to sit at the wonderful window seat, and she wasn't passing it up. She should clearly be stopping here every day to sit, stare out at the sea, and write.