The Last (Sicilian) Supper

23/2/11 (finished 26/2/11)

Palermo, Sicilia

One last look at Etna, from the West; volcanic rock in the foreground

The last few days have seen me cut through the center of Sicilia, from the towering, snowy heights of Mt. Etna to the gritty and thriving quarters of the port city of Palermo. I have traveled 270 km over the last 3 days and reached altitudes of 1150m before descending to sea level on the second evening. While it was certainly a challenge to navigate the seemingly endless hills and valleys of this fertile island, the experience of achieving a zen-like state on my lonesome is an overpowering reward. Besides, I am now here in the company of some great friends, whom I will be sad to leave later tonight.

Again, as I look back on the previous webbed log communication, I berate myself for not updating with more frequency. I mean, there are so many awesome things that have happened since the last post that it is unfortunate that I will not be sharing it with you.

First of all, internet availability here is sparse at best, with people clearly living oblivious to the world wide web. For instance, a woman at a bed and breakfast told me there was internet in her home, so with my computer I could surely connect. When I asked for the password, she looked baffled (perhaps because I don't know the Italian word for “password,” and even if I did, the woman would not have understood that the darn newfangled contraption with all them blinking lights would ever need a password) and had to get her son. He showed up and explained to me that their internet was being provided courtesy of a local wifi hotspot that costs money to use and that his code would not work for my computer. They welcomed me in to use their computer, and so I sat in their smoky parlor while they watched the father go on the local news for being the head chef in a cooking demonstration.

Secondly, and more interestingly, I have been very busy here, in spite of being alone in a foreign country. When I am not biking (or eating, resting, or taking phot's), I shop for food, find a place to stay, and talk to as many people as I can. Especially over the last 20 days – in Agrigento, Mascali, and now Palermo – I have been taken such great care of by various friends I have met here in Sicilia.

These are friends that I certainly want to keep throughout my life, for they are all of “buon hombre” material. I don't mean to count out the women; they are just as warm, just as loving, just as wonderful of people. Last week in Mascali, with my friend Andreas, his family, and some of his friends (big shout out to Charley, Sabene, Lena, and Egon), I felt as though I were part of their clan not just for a week but for life. Instead of constantly updating this blog and sitting by myself, reading riting and rithmaticking, I stayed in their company, where they would readily translate their German stories to English so that I could be a part of the conversation. Here in Palermo, though I am trying to learn Italian and can follow what is being said, I have difficulty expressing my own thoughts. But no matter: these cats are very patient and enjoy learning English as much as I do Italian. Sometimes I just want to scream out Cazzo! when I can't communicate what I mean, but we take our time and eventually understand each other.

I can't get everything out that I have seen and done here, vero, but I can comment on how supremely Sicilia has surpassed my expectations. I am very fortunate to have met the people I did, but as Andreas has said, you have to be in the game to have a shot at winning. If I were not able and willing to take the chance out here, eager to take the risk, ready to take on the challenge, then I would not have met any of these great people.

So far, people from every part of Europe have been marvelously welcoming and friendly. But I am especially glad to have met some people my age, and very interesting ones, at that. For instance, at the moment, I am sitting in Raimondo's room listening to Alice Cooper, Bruce Springsteen, and John Prine. Last night, we tossed around a football (an AMERICAN football) but cut it short because the ball was flat as a dead pancake's EKG. And the best part is that I feel as though it were absolutely normal to be hanging out here, many thousands of miles from home. (By the way, Google Maps is the best (true that double true) for showing people the stark differences between Sicilia and America; Chicago is pretty impressive and having a pool in the backyard is close to a dream).

Now I must prepare myself for a traghetto (ferry) to Genova, where I will somehow make my way up to Paris.

Guh? The decoration of a B&B. Feng Shui?

I find myself already looking forward to the next time I will see these great people, whether it be here again in August, in Austria in the summer for a festival or two, or back in Chicago five years down the road. Any day, I will be ready to make them feel at home in my home.