Rising to the Last Leg Palermo

On the way to Italy, Ted continuously watched the Godfather on the airplane video console.  He said putting on a movie that you have seen 20 times makes him sleep better.  I hear the gunfire through his headphones and cannot imagine that there is sleepful bliss in this.

I bring that up, because  Palermo is very closely associated with Mafia history.  Salvatore Giuliano was the real deal.  Not the movie the Godfather, but a real Siciliani who was part of the "Robin Hood" image of Italians in the early 40's.  He was dashing and anti establishment - a villain hero, who was loved and hated by all. 

Salvatore, a handsome man

A lovely introduction to the Palermo streets.  We debated, is Palermo like Madrid or Costa Rica or Miami.  I am pretty sure the answer is yes.  Big open markets, lots of traffic, horns, whistles, yelling, hands and honking.  It is strangely attractive and sixties in architecture, though not really.  Tall buildings so you cannot see the port like one can on the Amalfi Coast.  And at the risk of the Palermo tourist industry people, dirty.  More street trash, more floating garbage in the harbor, more dog poop.

That said our little piece of heaven is fabulous.  Thanks to Michele, we have a three bedroom, three bath flat.  The kitchen is appropriately appointed and the living space and patios are to  live for.  We walk the the Ballaro Market and then down to the port.  We saunter back and hit a bar called, "the navy".  Which of course, Corbett and Ted must stop into.  We have a beer and a couple of paninis.  ( I almost called them sandwiches!)

We track along and see the Carrefour sign.  Don't know how I lived without them.  The Publix of Europe.  Open markets are great for most, but butter, oil and soap are best bought at the Carrefour!  Pronounce Cawfoe.  No r's.

patio view, like right there

View off the top balcony

sort of looks like the sun is peaking though for us

Palermo has not had time to know me, nor I it.  I love the deep roots and mysteries.  I am not sure I love the religion in every breath of every corner.  I need to feel this more deeply.  We head for Cefalu tomorrow.  Catacombs on Saturday.  Water tour on Sunday.  Busy last days.  Oh and last apartment had an elevator, and we were on first floor.  Now we are on three and a half

I miss you Charles and Morgan and Patrick.  Glad I have Corbett!

Rising to Capri

We stayed up late trying ot book charters to Capri, an island off the Napoli Coast.  Corbett and I finally gave up and pronounced to Ted that we had to go in person.

We did and we made it!

But first, we kill an hour in a different part of Napoli.  We have a cappuccino and Corbett has a cheesecake and an orange Fanta.  We watch the students, mothers and business people cross and recross the piazza.  A very nice spot except for the cigarettes.  The outdoors is always full of smokers.

Eleven comes and we are on the fast "jet" to Capri.  It is really a giant catamaran to the island.  Forty Five minutes total.  We get off the boat and try and orient.  Then I see the funicolare.  Love those.  Up and up and Ted not feeling the love so much.  Heights he says.  But aww the view.

I don't have photos of this, but the buses and the trucks and the cars and the anything else traveling on the road of Capri are truly the bravest and most technical people I can think of.  Today, the buses were so close that we felt the breath of the other riders.  Ted said there was an extra three inches, but I did not see it.  And on our right, the cliff straight down.  Look across the photo above and imagine driving around the rocky protrusions.  The drivers inching forward, squeezing busses into fiat size streets, mirrors in, people gasping, and me - I am sure that I tried to suck my belly into my lungs to help the cause.  And even then, with no buses coming, the roads sidle the edge and the lady next to me is doing the sign of the cross (a catholic thing).  Her boyfriend tries to comfort her and I tell Ted, there are worse ways to die.  And then the experience is in the past, as we are out on the streets and taking in the island views.

In case you are wondering, men from America act like men from America even in Italy.  "Do you know where you are going?"  "of course!"  Do you want to look at a map?  "Well that is inconvenient, but if you insist."  Should I ask someone for directions, Ted says?  Well yes.  And then we turn 180 and head up the hill not down the hill.

 Nope, no directions needed at all, why do you ask?

Ana Capri

We walk the top of the island.  One of the tourist offering is a lift up the mountain in single chairs, like a ski lift.   Ted does not want to ride the swinging chairs up the mountain as the clouds are covering the top.  I am sure he just doesn't want to ride the solo swinging chairs.  He is accompanied by a woman from New Hampshire, saying "no way!"  Ted offers to stay and have a beer with her while the rest of us go up.  But we decide to keep walking.  We have to be back at the port by four thirty and Ted is worried about time.  We take a short cut through the town, following the lovely Italian ladies below.  The view is the perfect ending to another day in paradise as we are told boarding our catamaran back to Napoli.  But if I ever come back, the swinging chairs for me!

A perfect end to the day indeed.