Sunday, July 2, 2017

part 2: Taormina et al.

Believe it or don't, that last post covered about a day and a half of our nine-day sojourn to Sicily. We really are not relaxed travelers--we need to see and do and eat everything, all the time!--which explains why I usually need a vacation from our vacations when we return home afterwards (meaning about a week to recover). But enough about home--back to Sicily!

We arrived in Taormina mid-afternoon on Sunday, parked at our beautiful hotel (wherein we were on the 4th floor--5th, for my American readers--with no lift. Shut up, knees! You're not the boss of me!), and headed immediately to Taormina's main attraction, the 3rd-century BC Greek amphitheater.

First living creature we met upon arrival at our hotel. Cat sleeping on the printer = we've come to the right place. (As one would suspect, as a hotel cat, he was quite sociable, when he wasn't napping.)

View from the amphitheater over the city.

The amphitheater itself! Which is still used for events and concerts.

From the other angle, with Taormina in the background.

Ugh, we all know how much I love me some ancient script. Here, a 1st- or 2nd-century BC financial account in tiny, tiny Greek lettering (inside the small-but-rich museum next to the amphitheater).

And here, my dear husband being super helpful as I try to take photos. This is what I have to deal with when I travel, folks. (He's like the Stewie-cat of people.)

After descending from the theater, we headed into the tiny city center to see what was what. Stumbled across the 10th- through 15th-century Palazzo Corvaja, which contains, among other things, the tourist info office...

...and this rather fascinating augmented-reality presentation on the UNESCO sites in Sicily. (I thought the info was quite interesting; Mike was excited about the headset.)

Taormina is a gem. No wonder it's packed with people like us, craning our necks in every direction.

On the lovely Piazza IX Aprile.

Etna, always. (From Piazza IX Aprile.)

View from our room after dark.

Dinner was at the charmingly-hidden Vicolo Stretto ("narrow alley"--and very aptly named, as the alley in which their entrance is located was so narrow that Mike had to turn entirely sideways at first, hah!), where we shared starters of ceviche made with local shrimp and accompanied by lime granita; caponata; and grilled local prawns with mozzarella and artichokes. 

Table full o' starters. Look how pretty! (Very tasty, too.)

Mike went for paccheri pasta with mussels and zucchini for his main, and I opted for a bowl of lentil soup with veggies, greens, and homemade croutons, and then I went with the cassata for dessert, and he had the "reimagined tiramisu," made with orange peel, fried doughnutty pieces, and pine nuts. (Followed by some excellent espresso, as we do.) Quite a nice casual meal, I thought, plus this:

The actual vicolo stretto leading to the restaurant. Very atmospheric.

The next morning, we decided to head up the mountain to the tiny town of Castelmola, which is crowned by a castle ruin. 

Don't kid yourself, that place is high up the mountain. This is view towards the mainland from Castelmola.

View from the castle down to Taormina's (with the Greek theater on the left).

Oh, Castelmola, your castle really is just a ruin. Sigh. But at least your views are nice.

Next to the castle ruins there was a small museum containing several Catanese marionettes, which evolved into their current form in the 19th century, although the tradition of puppet theater in Sicily dates back to the 15th. These things are massive, standing around 110 cm tall, and can weigh in at 30 kg (43 inches tall, and 65 lbs!). The shows performed with said puppets consist of a loose combination of local history, folklore, and medieval legend (most commonly, stories of the Norman conquest of the island), and the "Opera dei Pupi," or Sicilian puppet theater, is now on UNESCO's list of Intangible Cultural Heritage. (Fascinating. And let me tell you, they spared no expense on the details on these things, the fabrics and the armor decoration and whatnot. They're ornate.)

Back down in Castelmola, one finds the arco antico, part of a city wall from the 900s...

...and a whole lot of charm. The place is filthy with it.

Headed back down the hill to check out the tiny little church of Madonna della Rocca, which is built into a grotto in the mountainside. (Crazily enough, there are stairs up to this place from Taormina, but we went by car, because that climb would be insane.)

Super clear view of Etna from Madonna della Roca.

Terracing everywhere, even on these steep, steep slopes. No idea why--wine? Other growy things? Or just trying to keep the hillside from sliding down on top of everyone? Either way, steep and terracey.

Back down in Taormina, we found our way to the Naumachie, the remnants of an absolutely massive supporting wall for a cistern that the Romans built in the 1st century (...maybe) on top of preexisting Greek foundations. (The name means "sea battle," because the area of the cistern is so big that its 18th-century "discoverer" assumed that the Romans had held naval games here.)

This thing is about 130 meters (430 feet) long, and, seeing as how it's smack in the middle of town, has newer shops and apartments built on top of it.

Did I mention how pretty Taormina is??

And then we stumbled across this tiny studio where this man was hand-painting the most exquisite designs on plates (a custom order! I want a custom order from Signore Mirisciotti!), and where I spent a near-exorbitant amount of money on an incredibly beautiful bowl of my own. (After much debate and agonizing. With myself.)*

While I was agonizing, we made our way to the gardens of Villa Comunale, where they have, among other things, several very magnificent cacti;

a couple of reindeer (...?) topiaries;

this manned "Pig" torpedo from WWII;**

a killer view;

and these utterly bizarre little buildings called "Beehives," or "Victorian Follies," constructed according to the designs of one Lady Florence Trevelyan (Queen Victoria's cousin, who'd moved to Sicily and married Taormina's mayor) in the 1890s. 

All of the materials are local, with some bits being salvaged pieces of Greek and Roman architecture, and they're supposed to (obviously loosely) mimic pagodas...

...but it all felt very Swiss Family Robinson-y to me.

See? (On the one hand, it's a bit sad that these things are closed to the public, but I'm sure that's for the best, as they all looked straight-up rickety.)

Ohhh, and don't think you're getting away with just one church visit in this post! On our way to dinner, we wandered past the duomo, built and re-built between the 13th and 16th centuries. We ducked inside, although we didn't stay long, as they were about to have a service. 

A few blocks past the church, we found the far end of what was once the city walls; Porta Catania retains its form from a Spanish alteration in 1440.

Just outside of Porta Catania is the tiny church of Sant'Antonio Abate...

...in which we found a presepe of the entire town, made of sugar cubes. (As I learned on this trip, the creation and display of presepe, or nativity scenes, is very much a year-round Sicilian tradition, and the scenes themselves are generally highly customized to the locale. For example, in this terrible phone photo of only half of the scene [kicking myself that I didn't take another, but it felt weird to be taking photos in there, even if there were no "no photo" signs!], in the lower left corner, there's the two churches of Piazza IX Aprile, and that's Taormina castle up on the hill.) All of that to say, amazing.

Immediately outside of our restaurant, we found a 2nd-century Greek mosaic.

Dinner that night was at Casa Gioli, which bills itself as "Art & Restaurant," a combination that usually screams "steer clear!" to me, but, as it was one of the few higher-rated places in town that was open on a Monday evening, we went, and were pleasantly surprised. We started with plates of fried, shredded calamari and zucchini with tomato sauce, and local red shrimp with purple potatoes and avocado cream; then Mike had shellfish ravioli in a frutti di mare sauce, and I had carob-flour pasta with tomatoes, shrimp, and zucchini blossoms. (No, mine did not taste even remotely chocolatey, but it was dark brown. And quite nice in both texture and flavor.) A very nice meal, overall.

The next morning, we bid a fond adieu to this:

The view from our room during the daytime, with the mainland in the far right background.

...and headed inland to the rather spectacular Villa del Casale. Really, I wish we'd had another full day in Taormina, because despite its small size, there are still several sights I would've liked to have checked out, and despite its rather high tourist content, I found it very relaxing. And it doesn't hurt that the place is just beautiful, or that there's no shortage of Michelin-recommended restaurants. (Just don't go on a Monday, is all.)








*And, and! We conducted the whole transaction in Italian! And even had a conversation about his work, the US and Switzerland, and about our trip! (If I hadn't said before, Italian is my absolute favorite language and I studied it for a year in college and was rather good at it, but that was 17 years ago and I spent most of that time not practicing and forgetting just about everything. So it's pretty darn exciting that my recent Rosetta Stone use has actually brought bits and pieces back!)

**No, seriously: look at this diagram.


Two divers would have to ride this thing to its target ship, detach the explosive and physically hang it on the ship, and then flee and wait for the explosives (with a delay of up to 2.5 hours) to go off. Insanity.


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