RAGUSA RESPITE

     I was not feeling so well yesterday, so we regretfully cancelled our reservation at a hard-to-get-into restaurant and settled for some fresh-squeezed orange juice and a cup of vanilla ice cream from walk-by stands. Back in our room, I watched a little Italian TV, but the only programs that did not require some understanding of the language were women's volleyball, net fishing, and teenage girls' tennis. Then we slept eleven hours!

     Today, I'm better than 50% but not tip-top, so after a light breakfast here at our B&B, we went exploring Ragusa. This involved lots and lots of steps. One had as many as the years I have lived. You do the math. All the roads are for pedestrians except for an occasional car that asks to share them. Along the way, we'd pause from time to time to capture impressions of the town, some of which Bob will include below.

     Tomorrow, we rent a car and begin the countryside part of our journey.

 

 

 

RAGUSA

     The train from Syracuse to Ragusa had only two cars and chugged along at a leisurely pace stopping to rest at almost every station on the way. Ragusa is only 33 miles from Syracuse as a determined crow would fly, but our trip was more than double that. Still, it was a good start to our transition from urban environments to small towns and countryside.

    Ragusa is described as “something out of a fairy-tale with its towers peaking above terracotta roofs that spill down the hillside.” There are two parts to it. The new town (Ragusa Superiore) was rebuilt after the great earthquake of 1693, but we're staying in the old town (Ragusa Ibla), one of the best-preserved in all of Sicily, and a Unesco World Heritage Site. A deep ravine separates the two parts.

     We arrived at our lodging, NEROPECE B&B, in the old town.

Neropece

Our Room

     

      Rita, our landlady, greeted us at the door and led us up along staircase  to a lovely room with a private terrace, where she gave us a welcoming glass of Prosecco.  

 

After settling in, we walked in town to get a feel for the place, snapping a photo of the local Duomo on the way  and a typical street scene. 

 

Our destination was the restaurant where we're to have dinner this evening. Near it is the town's lovely park, but since it is overcast today and threatening rain, we did not take any of the recommended “vista” shots—just the park itself.

 

       In the park and all the way back to our B&B were men and boys in black suits with colorful ties, women and girls in fancy dresses, and children all decked out, walking toward toward the church in the park. It appears that the whole town is headed to what must be the wedding of the year. If it didn't cut into our nap time, we would have stayed to cheer it on.

DOWN DAY

     I had nothing much planned for today, which is just as well, since it wasn't all sun and blue skies. In fact, it turned

Open doorway at breakfast

out to have what the English used to call “sunny intervals,” and these appeared between the rainy intervals. So, Bob did not throw open the doors to our balconies first thing this morning as he usually did; instead, he settled for the view from our breakfast table.

     And since I had no fixed agenda for the day, guess what? He let down his guard and got walloped by his old nemesis, BFS (Bob's Fatigue Syndrome). That meant that right after breakfast, he went back to bed and slept for two hours, and then he slept again for another two or three hours in the afternoon. Between naps, we did manage to wander about to do some detective work, run some errands, and snap a few candids of the city.

At Museo Bellomo

     The detective work was to find the one Caravaggio painting that the city owns. I'd been led to believe that it was in the Museo Bellomo, so that was our first stop. The building was quite handsome and included a marble staircase that reminded me of ones in some of the French chateaux we saw a few years back. But the museum's holdings, although well displayed, were sparse and consisted almost entirely of medieval to renaissance religious paintings and sculptures. Our impression was like that of a knight as portrayed on his tomb: Ho hum.

Ho hum...

But to be fair, there was one striking work, a well-lit face of an old man (identified as JC, but it could have been any/every man). Its emotional impact (I'm done with the suffering, thank you very much, and I'm yearning for release) was like that of Donatello's wooden carving of Mary Magdalene in Florence.

JC in Ortigia

Mary Magdalene in Florence

     

Although there were paintings by “friends of Caravaggio” in the Museo Bellomo, the famous one by the master himself was not there. I knew that the city would not have displaced such a famous painting. In fact, one place on Piazza Duomo is trying to cash in on the painter's brief stay here by having a special exhibit to honor him (and pull in some extra bucks).

When I checked to see what the exhibit included, I discovered that it had only ONE Caravaggio painting, which was on loan from someone in London, plus two paintings by "friends" of his. We passed.

Chiesa di Santa Lucia alla Badia

     Finally, I gave up and asked a lady at the Bellomo where the Caravaggio was.

     “Oh,” she said (at least I think she did, since her response was entirely in Italian), “it's in the Church of St. Lucia alla Badia on Piazza Duomo.”

Piazza Duomo

  

      So, back we went to the Piazza to check out the church, and sure enough, there it was over the high altar. However, it is set so far back that it was hard to see even though the painting itself, the Burial of St. Lucia (1608/9), is huge. One version of history claims that Lucia, a wealthy woman

 who gave all she had to the poor, so pissed off her betrothed by all by her generosity that he turned her in. They tried to burn her at the stake, but she turned out to be flame retardant, so in the end, a soldier cut her throat. Caravaggio's dramatic scene, with it realism and dramatic lighting, shows Lucy's last hour before shipping off to eternity and becoming the patron saint of Syracuse.

      Having solved the mystery of the missing painting, we ourselves slipped off during our interlude between Bob's naps to buy some acetaminophen and toothpaste, a process worthy of a Mr. Bean pantomime. We also withdrew some money from an ATM, had a gelato (white chocolate), and snapped some random photos to remind us what a handsome area of Syracuse this little Island of Ortigia is. Tomorrow is a travel day to Ragusa.

  

 

 

 

 

TOURS R'NT US

     First thing this morning, Bob threw open the doors to our patios, and there it was: the sea, sparkling in sunshine all the way to the horizon. Hardly a person in sight. Lovely.

     Our destination for the day was the archeological park on the mainland of Syracuse, so we bought day passes to the open-air, hop-on-hop-off bus to take us there and back. We had it almost to ourselves all the way over.

     The park has three items of particular interest. The first is

the Latomia del Paradiso, a deep limestone cave carved out by 7000 POWs in 413 BCE by the despot Dionysus. About 7000 people in organized tours were headed there before us, but we elbowed our way through and managed to see the cave before they filled it up. Caravaggio, when he saw the cave, said it looked like “the ear of Dionysus,” partly because of its shape, and partly because

the acoustics were so good that the tyrant supposedly could hear what the prisoners were saying about him. Whatever. The point is that you can see the markings where stone was chiseled . . . all the way 75 feet up to the top. I think Bob's photo from inside the almost empty cave is spectacular

      The second item of interest is the Greek Amphitheater, which was hewn out of rock in the 5^th Century BCE. They say it could seat 16,000 spectators, but I'm beginning to think that “they” say that about all the amphitheaters we see! This one, however, has the unique distinction of having had the last tragedies of Aeschylus performed in it in the author's presence. Clearly, the theater is still being used. As the photo shows, workmen are carefully covering the hewn rock seats with wooden ones. Why? It's anyone's guess. Notice in the distance that some of the original seats are yet to be covered over. 

GREEK Amphitheater

     The third item of interest is the Roman amphitheater. Built around the time of Augustus, it is supposedly the third largest next to Rome and Verona. (Believe that, and I have a bridge . . .) Here gladiators supposedly faced each other with tridents and daggers, and slaves were whipped into the center to do battle to the death with wild beasts. (Must have been every bit as spectacular as Cats.) Note that the seats, which have not been covered over, have been carved out of rock.

ROMAN Amphitheater

     I have to say that we squeezed our self-guided tour of the park between one after another organized tour led by obnoxious guides holding little flags on sticks and shouting in German, English, Italian, or whatever, to their blank-looking flocks of motley tourists, or bored, uniformed school kids. The weather was cool but sunny, so we managed, but I can only imagine what it must be like in the summer.

     One other stop on this excursion was the archeological museum. It was one of the most confusing ones I've ever been in—a maze of ramps and walkways in a circular design, but the displays were well-lit, modern, and explained both in Italian and English. One whole section was devoted to coins, which we generally skip through as quickly as we usually do in galleries of armor or medieval religious paintings, but the attendant was so concerned that we not miss anything, that we just had to spend time there so she would not be disappointed. Other sections, which exhibited artifacts from

several millennia of various influences on Sicilian art (prehistoric, Greek, Arabic, Roman, etc.) were of greater interest, although the sheer size of the collection was overwhelming. Here's a photo of just one exhibit of large pots.

     Finally, we hopped on our bus for the crowded, half-hour ride back to our neighborhood on the island on Ortigia. Then we had a bite to eat from a local vendor before heading back to our room. There we flung open the doors to the terraces so that the gentle sea breeze could waft its way through the room to stimulate our blogging muse.

MAY DAY, MAY DAY, MAY DAY!

      But first: I owe it to Catania to mention that this morning, a street cleaner drove by our hotel, so at least one street, however briefly, was clean. I should also mention that our colds are better, though far from gone.

      Massimo, our faithful Catanian driver, took us to the train station to catch the 10:45 to Syracuse. Sebastiano met us and took us for a hair-raising ride to our hotel. One bicyclist barely survived our trip, not to mention pedestrians and other motorists. (We actually hit the bicyclist but he kept going! Yikes!)

      Out hotel, the Royal Maniace, is right on the water, and our room has not one, but two balconies overlooking the ocean and a small public beach. A few brave souls celebrated May Day by taking the plunge.  As for Bob . . . He's always talked about having a room that overlooks the ocean so that he can hear the waves lapping at the shore as he goes to sleep. Tonight, he should enjoy just that, and meanwhile, he has a lovely view. 

      After settling in for not one, but THREE whole nights at one place, we wandered around town for a couple of hours.

      A history of Syracuse might begin with its first tyrant, Gelon, who chose it because of its harbor, and because part of it, Ortigia, where we're staying, is an island that had its own fresh-water spring and could be separately fortified. When he died in 478 BCE, he was head of perhaps the most powerful city state in Europe. For the next 2500 years, the city was fought-over, captured, freed, ransacked, and rebuilt. In addition to us, it attracted many illustrious visitors including “Eureka” Archimedes, Plato, Cicero, St. Paul, St. Lucy (a home-grown martyr), Caravaggio, and Lord Horatio Nelson.

      The oldest building on the island, the Temple of Apollo, is now a ruin, but a couple of columns and a pediment remain. Built in the 6^th Century BCE, it's amazing that anything survives. Equally amazing is how, without cranes and flatbed trucks, columns of that size could have been erected here, not to mention how the stones they support could have been hoisted on top of them.

      Today, Ortigia is a jumble of narrow streets and beautiful squares, the main one being, of course, the Piazza del Duomo. The Duomo itself must have

just been cleaned, because it fairly glowed in the afternoon sun. For two Euros a head, we popped in for a look-around, and I was surprised at how handsome the interior was. I like the simplicity of Norman architecture, and this resembled that. Along each side were massive, ancient columns—who knows what building they may have come from—but apparently, there were four columns, visible from the outside of the building, that came from a 1500-

year-old temple built by none other than Gelon. Whoever was responsible for the cathedral's interior, the resulting arches and columns were impressive and well worth a couple of Euros to see.

      Naptime now, to treat the cold, and tonight, another Sicilian dinner with Sicilian wine. Sweet dreams.

CATANIA CATCH UP

      Just arrived back at the hotel from “doing” Catania, and I (Steward) have time for some thoughts about the trip so far.

      As I've said, both of us are battling colds, which so far have not loosened their grip. Bob is sleeping as I write this, and when I'm done, I'll have my afternoon nap. The good news is that after four or five days, we're just beginning to get over jetlag.

      Bob thought I should have mentioned the flight from Gatwick Airport to Catania yesterday. EasyJet. That says it all. But what we had not anticipated was how far they go nickeling and diming their passengers. During the nearly three-hour flight, I had expected they'd at least offer the usual packages of pretzels and a few free drinks, but no. They charge for every . . . single . . . thing. Even plain water. We didn't use the toilet, but I do think that's about all that's free. And they went around with a collection bag asking people to donate to some charity they support.

      Oh, and our hotel reservation in Catania was changed just before we left England. “Our” hotel, Best Western Mediterraneo, must have been overbooked, so we were put up at another hotel in an “up-graded” room. That wasn't so bad, but then we had to transfer back to our original hotel the next day, so we haven't been able to settle into either one. I will say, though, that the General Manager of “our” hotel went out of his way to make amends. Free transportation. Another up-graded room, I think. And super-attentive service. All part of the joys of travel.

      Dinner last night was at Trattoria del Cavaliere , a place our temporary hotel recommended. It was a chaotic, bustling place that specialized in seafood. What was most interesting in addition to its extensive menu were all the natives around us: families with infants and young children (at eight or nine pm), an elderly mother and (I assume) her dutiful daughter, and right next to our table, a collection of mostly overweight boys-on-the-town, slurping down beers along with their endless dishes of shared foods and jokes. All this was overseen by typical Italian don't-even-bother-me waiters. We enjoyed it along with our “signature Catania dish” of pasta alla norma (tomato sauce with fried eggplant, named after a famous opera by native son Bellini) and, for me, fired anchovies (meh).

      Today, we walked to most of the major tourist sites the

Piazza Duomo

city has to offer. First up was the handsome Piazza Duomo square featuring the city's cathedral. Originally constructed in 1078 over the ruins of a Roman bath, it's dedicated to Saint Agatha, a virgin who was tortured for refusing the advances of a Roman prefect. She's now the patroness of Catania.

Duomo Facade

Elephant Fountain

     At the center of the square lies the really-weird Elephant Fountain, which celebrates the symbol of the city, a small elephant. Not only that, but it has an obelisk on its back. No one really knows why, when, or how a small elephant came to symbolize Catania, but there it is.

Fountain

      Just as we were leaving the square, we heard running water, and there, stuck off in a corner, ignored by natives and tourists alike, was a rather handsome fountain.

      Next up was Castello Ursino, a Norman fortress built in the later half of the 13th century. When Mount Etna erupted in 1669, lava flowed around it filling the moat and cutting off its strategic seaside position. The building now houses the Civic Museum of Catania, a brave but pathetic collection of Greek and Roman artifacts and a hodge podge of 15^th to 18^th Century paintings and other objects of art. Although the contents of the museum were not worth the senior-discounted price of admission, the simple, massive simplicity of the architecture was.

Catello Ursino

      And finally, we explored the larger of the city's two Roman amphitheaters. Built around the 2^nd Century AD, it supposedly could have seated up to 15,000 spectators. It probably used an underground water source to flood the stage for naval battles and to move elaborate sets and other equipment. Nowadays, enhanced by spotlights

and other modern inventions, the building is still used for events. While we were there, workmen under the watchful eye of a lady choreographer, were preparing the stage.

      So that's it for Catania, unless tonight's dinner merits a note later on. Would I recommend the city for other visitors to Sicily? Probably not. We found it extremely dirty: garbage piled up or scattered about, cars so filthy you wonder if drivers can see out of them, streets too narrow for both vehicles and pedestrians, and maniacal drivers, especially those on scooters and motorcycles, who love to play chicken with cars and pedestrians alike!

      But if you loved Naples, you might love it here.