Sweet Ricotta Ravioli
Today we had a bit of a climb to get to Ragusa. If you look up Ragusa on good ol’ Wikipedia it says that the town is located on a high hill. I will tell you, from someone who got here on a bike, they weren’t kidding!
Chocolate, the Blessed, & the Mafia
Today was a simple loop ride to Modica from Scicli. Modica is another UNESCO World Heritage Site. I am thinking at this point that they should have just declared all of Sicily a World Heritage Site and be done with it. However, the architecture of Modica is not what I want to talk about today.
The Flotsam and Jetsam of Culture New & Old
Today, we left the lovely little town of Scicli moving on to Agrigento. As we pressed on to our new destination I noticed something that reminded me of the day before, trash. As we rode along to our destination I was overwhelmed by the garbage, not just litter, but garbage that was just about everywhere you looked.
Under a Sicilian Sunset
Another day cycling through Sicily. I have likened these trips to eating an excellent bag of potato chips when you are very hungry, not just hungry, but a maddening craving for something crisp and salty. You look at the bag only to realize that it isn’t that big, certainly not large enough to fill the need. With every savory bite, you realize that you are getting closer to the inevitable end. An unsatisfying completion that terminates long before your desire is sated.
“Il bar più a sud d’Europa isole escluse.”
We were barely on the road when we stopped at an abandoned farmhouse. The farm had been made into a museum. Apparently, someone who had found some Roman mosaics and were chipping away pieces destroying them and obscuring the story these treasures told. As I understand it, someone had started farming here when they discovered what was under the ground. It reminds me of something a friend once told me. According to him, there is so very much history in the ground that every construction project uncovers something from the past.
Italia, Ieri, Oggi, Domani.
Today we boarded our flight for our Italian adventure. We battled traffic on the LA freeways, passed through the gauntlet of security, and ourselves into seats that would be restrictive for hobbit. There is not much to tell about my odyssey at this point, so let’s talk about Italy.
The Climb was Worth the View
Today we left the seaside city of Sciacca heading for the pleasant mountain community of Caltabellotta. The keyword in that previous statement is mountain. I am on a bike. So, before you read much further you could pretty much guess what my day was like. I started the day looking up at the mountain seeing all these lovely windmills way off in the distance, high up on the slope. By lunchtime, I was looking down at those same windmills.
The Cerberus of Selinunte
Today was an easy day, we did a simple loop ride in the Menfi area that took us up into the hills above the town and then to the Greek ruins in Selinunte.
Invading Marsala
As I wrote about in my book, Italianità: The Essence of Being Italian and Italian-American, Garibaldi is the Italian version of Washington. Just like Washington, Garibaldi led a group of volunteers to victory over the professional army of one of the world powers at that time.
Arrival
Today, after a very long day of travel, we arrived in Syracuse, or more correctly Sircuasa. I am referring to the original in Sicily and not the one in central New York.
Siracusa
oday was our first full day in Syracuse Sicily. As I had noted yesterday, I am very excited to be here. This morning, much to the chagrin of my son, we got a bright an early start. There is just too much to see in this wonderful place in just one short day. So, after a quick Italian breakfast, we were on our way. I should note that the breakfasts here are quite different.
The Road to Noto
What a great day!! It is our first day of riding and it has reminded me of why I love these trips so much. We left Syracuse this morning headed south-west toward the town of Noto. It was a short 34 miles, which I guess is a great way to start the trip. We don’t want to attempt anything too intense and the terrain was relatively flat, very little elevation gain. The sky was overcast as we began our travels making for a cool start to the day.
Hooped Dresses & Watermills
I feel as if I am continually repeating myself when I say that we rode through some very beautiful countryside today. Such repetition not only lacks an imaginative start but calls my credibility into question.
Who is your Favorite Guitarist?
If I were to ask you to name a great guitarist, who would you name? If you are from my generation, you might say Clapton or Hendrix. If you are old school, you might go with B.B. King or Les Paul. If, however, you are really old school, and I am talking 18th century old school, you’re going with Mauro Giuliani – no known relation to that other Giuliani.
An Italian-American Christmas
Several years back, an evangelical Christian co-worker was complaining about the secularization of Christmas. “Jesus is the reason for the season,” he declared, literally raising his arm, pointing to the heavens above. “What does Christmas mean to you? Is it a holiday or an holyday?” he asked, almost daring me to answer incorrectly, or at least what he thought was incorrect.
Sauce, Gravy, or Dante? (Part 2)
Dante Alighieri; author of The Divine Comedy, Father of the Italian Language, philosopher, theologian, statesman. In my previous post, I make the point that to truly understand Italian and Italian-American culture you need to understand Dante. That post focuses on Dante the poet, the author of The Divine Comedy.
Befana & the Epiphany
I love being Italian, well technically Italian-American. There are so many things about our cultural inheritance that enrich our lives. The food. The traditions. The music. From pasta fazool to Verdi’s La Traviata, I love it all. One of these traditions is the observance of the Epiphany and Befana. Growing up in the United States, the Epiphany passed without notice, with no mention of Befana.
Love Italian Style
It’s Valentine’s Day!! A day of chocolates, flowers, romantic dinners, and sexy lingerie. It is estimated that the average man will spend $300 to $400 on wooing his true love, or at least his current love. While I don’t want to appear as a Valentine’s Day cynic, I can’t help but feel that all this Valentine’s Day furor is more the result of effective marking than heartfelt expressions of devotion.
Italians, The First Latins!!
Several years back I was having dinner with a group of people. At one point during the meal, a woman at the table began to rant against Latins. The Latins this. The Latins that. All manner of shortcomings were ascribed to Latins. Clearing my throat, I noted that I was a Latin. “You’re not Latin! You’re Italian,” she snapped.
Are Italian-Americans Italian?
Are Italian-Americans Italian? People keep telling me we aren’t. When I say I am Italian, Italian-Italians, those born in Italy, look at me with suspicion and scoff. American Uber-patriots chide me, telling me that I am American. In their minds, to associate myself the culture of my forbears is close to treason. With so many people telling me that I am not Italian, I cannot help but wonder if Italian-Americans are Italian.