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.

Matthew's Bar

 Ever since we arrived here in mid-August I've gone for a walk every day, and while some of it was/is related to necessity since we don't have a car, increasingly it is driven by my desire to get in better shape but also to appreciate what Terrasini has to offer. Since we're located on the coast, I guess it's not too surprising that I've made it down to the shore every day. Now, as the weather turns colder I know this will be a challenge, but my goal is to make it to the shore every day. It does give me a sense of peace, even when the winds are whipping and the waves are crashing (actually, especially when the winds are whipping and the waves are crashing). Part of that adventure is to stop at some bar, and when the Italians say bar they really mean coffeeshop (or least coffee in the morning, and maybe mixed drinks after siesta) for my morning caffe e cornetto. As I've walked farther and farther, I've also expanded my list of bars, with one of the newest and favorites being Mathew's Bar farther west on the Lungomare, and is a beloved local tradition. I've stopped by enough that, while I'm certainly not a regular, they are getting used to me dropping in - either way, they couldn't be nicer folks. Somehow, we've never stopped there in the evening, although it would be a natural place for an evening drink to watch the sunset. 

Matthew's is a natural place to stop after a visit to the Tornatore bench (more on that later), which is one of my favorite spots in Terrasini. I mistimed the morning storm once day and ended up walking from the bench to Matthew's in a pouring rain, but I was greeted warmed, as always.

Via Filippo Juvara

 And here's another picture of another street sign here in Terrasini, this time of the Via Filippo Juvara. Born in Messina in 1678, and thus a proud son of Sicily, he died in Madrid in 1736. Apparently, he died of pneumonia, although there were also rumors that he was poisoned (because, well, I guess because he was Sicilian there had to be at least the hint of a mysterious death). Juvara was an influential architect, associated with the Baroque movement, not only in Italy but throughout Europe, with his most lasting contribution occurring in Turin. He spent a short time in Portugal, and although his plans for the royal palace never came to fruition, he so impressed the Portuguese king that he was granted a wealthy year pension (which somehow makes sense to me, knowing Portugal as I do - I was also thinking that he had designed a famous Lisbon building that was destroyed in the famous earthquake, but that was just me romanticizing his life even further).

Truthfully, He was such an influential architect during his age that he no doubt deserves a more impressive street (with apologies to anyone who lives on Via Filippo Juvara). I'm not really certain how the names are assigned here in Terrasini, although I'm quite happy that they're actively celebrating Italian writers and artists and sculptors and architects.

The Writer

 Just a quick note - and picture - from the last of Summer 2026 Trips of CFL Excellence, when Kevin and Erik and I drove up to Ottawa to watch the REDBLACKS game. Again, I wish we would have stayed for the weekend (this is one of the lessons that Kevin and I learned over the years: just go ahead and stay a couple days, because you never know when you're going to make it back to Winnipeg). After the game we went for a walkabout (or at least as much of a walkabout as I was capable of then) and ended up at a posh bar. I think there was a dance club with beautiful young people up on the roof. The owners of the bar gently directed to the downstairs bar because it was "quieter", which I think meant, "Dudes, you're going to ruin the vibe upstairs." Anyway, we were sitting there enjoying adult scholarly beverages, when the waitress came by with a leatherbound journal for select customers to write in. Naturally, she handed over the journal to Erik, who is actually a legitimate writer who has penned several novels and countless articles. Just as they were right to steer away from the roof, they were right in handing to opportunity/responsibility to Erik. Kevin and I were just happy that they didn't size us up and ask us to carry in some boxes from the back.

Either Erik was simply clearly the writer at the table - or he was also simply the best-looking guy at the table - both of which were demonstrably true. As to be expected, his words were thoughtful and beautiful. 

As My Servant Deems Me to Be

 "God most high says, 'I am as my servant deems Me to be. I am with him when he remembers Me. Whosoever remembers Me within himself, I shall remember him in Myself. Whosoever remembers Me in company, I shall remember him in company better than them. Should he approach Me by a hand, I shall approach him by a cubit, and should he approach Me by a cubit, I shall approach him by a fathom. Should he come to Me walking, I shall go to him running.'" Hadith

I'm certain I've discussed this passage before as well, as it is one of my favorites. It is a hadith, although technically a hadith qudsi or "sacred hadith." A hadith is a saying associated with the Prophet. As I've discussed previously, I have issues with the hadith, not so much the idea behind them but rather their practice. There are thousands and thousands of hadith, and an astonishingly high percentage of them are of rather doubtful legitimacy. There's a whole school of Islamic science based on tracking down the legitimacy of hadith, based on a series of specific criteria (it's actually quite fascinating). Many are outright forgeries, while others may well be true, but simply can't be proven to have actually come down to us from the Prophet over the centuries. If you attend a Friday service in a local mosque you're probably as likely to hear a hadith quoted as a passage from the Qur'an itself. There have been times when I heard a hadith quoted as a central point of a sermon that I, even with my limited knowledge of the subject, knew to be of somewhat problematical authenticity. Still, they are a central part of the Islamic world, and they're not going away anytime soon, but it would be nice of Imams would be a little more deliberate in pointing out that the hadith which is sitting at the center of that week's talk was debated by Islamic scholars. A hadith qudsi is a hadith that quotes God, but isn't in the Qur'an (it's more complicated than that, of course, but for our purposes here I think that will suffice); consequently, they're held to be especially significant.

After that somewhat lengthy intro, I suppose I should actually talk about why I love this hadith so much. As I mentioned previously, I'm carving off time every morning for more reading, study, and reflection, and not falling into the trap of leaving it to Ramadan to "get caught up." Seyyed Hossein Nasr quoted this hadith in his commentary on the Quranic passage, "So remember Me, and I shall remember you. Give thanks unto Me and disbelieve not in Me." (2:152) Obviously, the notion of continually remembering God is an immensely important concept, and in this case I mean the necessity of keeping God and faith in our hearts and minds every moment of the day. I don't think that faith is based on huge, showy, public events, but rather the constant work of reacting to the world around you - essentially, the hundred times a day when you have the opportunity to do small kindnesses for other people. To me, that's the work of faith. That said, I've always been fascinated by the opening line, "I am as my servant deems Me to be." The following lines speak to God's desire to have a relationship with believers, and her/his/its desire to go the extra mile (or cubit) to reach that relationship. In that sense, each individual determines their relationship with God, even if God is dedicated to working even harder than the believer. However, does this passage go even further? If everyone's relationship with God is different, does that also mean that God is different for each of us? That is, God is what each believer "deems Me to be." I'm enough of a Stoic to understand that everything in the world is really defined by our perception of it - or, as Epictetus would remind us, "It's not the event, but rather our response to the event," that shapes our perception of the significance and meaning of the event. Everything in this world is based on what we bring to that interaction, but we tend to think that the divine would exist outside of the tyranny of senses and memory. It's certainly another reason to not fall into the trap of imagining God in human form, something the Jews and Muslims avoid but a trap the Christians fell into pretty early (too much time hanging around the Greeks and Romans, no doubt). 

Via Nino Martoglio

 Nino Martoglio was a writer, poet, and director of both stage and screen, who was born in 1870 in Belpasso and died in 1921 in Catania; so, one of Sicily's own. That said, he was famous throughout Italy, and founded both theater and cinema companies in Rome. He directed three early films, sadly all of which have been lost (which, as we've discussed, is all too often the fate of movies from the early days of cinema). His works were known for beauty, but also for focusing on the tremendous gaps between rich and poor.

Apparently, the phrase "died under mysterious circumstances" is just a part of Sicilian biographies. Martoglio died at age 51 when he mysteriously fell down an elevator shaft when visiting his sick son at a hospital in Catania.