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.

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.