Saying Goodbye to Sicily

After 15 days, I knew my trip to Sicily would soon be ending. On the final evening, our OAT group gathered for a bittersweet farewell dinner in a Catania restaurant. It was a memorable meal – caponata with cod; rigatoni pasta with shrimp and Bronte pistachios; wood-fired salmon with tomatoes and oregano; and the lightest melt-in-your-mouth tiramisu for dessert. 

Luckily, I had arranged to stay an extra day in Catania after the tour officially ended so the following morning, while others were zooming off to the airport, I was having a leisurely breakfast at the hotel and planning my adventures for the day. As much as I had enjoyed our guided sightseeing, I was looking forward to exploring on my own. Today would be all mine. I could spend hours and hours walking around Catania, I could sit at an outdoor café when the mood struck, I could even imagine that I wasn’t actually a tourist, but one of the people rushing off to work or school this morning. 

Walking briskly out of the hotel, I noted with satisfaction that the sun was already shining brightly and the sky was a flawless expanse of blue. At the nearby Piazza Trento, I paused to observe the small group gathered at the kiosk for their morning espresso. What would it be like to live here in Catania, I wondered. 

I would shop in one of the open-air markets, of course, which is where I was headed later. But first, I made my way back to the Piazza del Duomo to take some photos of the elephant and the obelisk. 

And with no schedule to follow, I decided take a look at the interior of the cathedral. 

Afterwards, I set out for less familiar territory and soon was walking along streets with few, if any, tourists. In the area between via Vittorio Emanuele II and via Garibaldi, a canopy of brightly colored umbrellas caught my attention. Entranced by the display, I stopped and observed local residents doing their grocery shopping at this open-air market. 

Eventually I navigated my way south to the Castello Ursino, in the middle of a quiet piazza. At the time this fortress was built in the 13^th century, it was located on top of a cliff facing the sea. When lava from the 1669 eruption of Mount Etna surrounded the castle and altered the landscape of the city, the castle was no longer on the seafront. It now houses a civic museum, which I didn’t visit. However, I spent several minutes walking around the outside of the castle to study the decorative carvings on its many towers, searching for the astronomical and religious symbols I’d read about. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to identify the menorah and the five-pointed star of Solomon. 

Ignoring my rapidly growing hunger pangs, I continued wandering through the tangle of residential streets, looking for the former Benedictine Monastery, Monastero dei Benedettini, which is now used by Catania’s university. I had been told that it offered an excellent view of the city. 

On my way back to the Piazza del Duomo, I came across the Odeon, a partially excavated 2^nd century CE theater, which held 1500 spectators.

Another new discovery lay just a few streets beyond the Odeon. The Baroque era Via dei Crociferi led into the Piazza dei San Francesco d’Assisi. The small but charming piazza was surrounded by ornate churches and palazzos from the 18^th and 19^th centuries. 

And much to my surprise, I was just a few blocks west of the Piazza del Duomo. I soon was trudging back up Via Etnea, stopping to take photos of the Piazza Universita in the sunshine.

The noon bells were ringing when I approached Collegiata Basilica. I had just enough time to rush inside and snap a quick photo of the fercolo, the silver carriage used to carry a statue of St. Agatha in the annual procession honoring the saint.

Continuing on my way, I was pleased to get a decent photo of the Bellini monument in the Piazza Stesicoro.

By this point, I’d been walking for nearly four straight hours and I had worked up quite an appetite. Since I had done some strategic planning for my walk, I wasn’t far from Café Spinella, right on Via Etnea. I sat myself down at an outdoor table and ordered some classic Sicilian street food: a spinach arancini (the size of a softball on steroids, with a crunchy deep-fried exterior and a creamy mixture of rice, cheese, ham and spinach inside) and schiaciatta a la Norma (with a filling of eggplant, tomato, basil and cheese oozing out of the dough). 

I briefly considered gelato, but I was too stuffed. All I could think of was taking a siesta back at the hotel before I faced the unenviable chore of packing. 

Darkness had fallen when I walked to via Filomena one last time in search of a light dinner. 

When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t ready to leave yet. The sky was blue once again. The sun was shining. I lingered over my cappuccino and mini-cannoli, knowing that in a few short hours, I would be on my way to the airport for my flight home. There was time, however, for a quick walk around the neighborhood. 

And then it was time to say Arrivederci, Sicilia. Mi manchi gia.(Goodbye, Sicily. I miss you already.)