12. Last Days in Sicily.

As soon as the bus found the City of Palermo, I was immediately captivated by the vibrancy in its busy streets. 

My hotel was very close to the central train and bus station and my room was ready by the time I arrived at midday.  It was large, beautifully decorated with 17th century exposed beams on the ceiling, and a balcony looking out to the stazione. 

I put down my backpack and got changed into some dressier shorts to go out and explore.  

For the first time in decades I had two men whistle at me just as I was walked  out on to the street, and I thought happily that I must be looking good!

So Many Churches

As I turned the corner I felt a cool breeze above my undie-line and when I looked down, noticed I had forgotten to do up my fly.  It was wide open!  I had to giggle at myself; those men, my ego!  Ha.  

I walked through the narrow busy streets until I came across the Piatto Conte Federico, a palace othat was built on the original Roman walls, dating back to the 12th.  It remains in the same aristocratic family today, and they took group tours through their home.

There was the final tour of the day at 2pm.  It happened to be near that time so I waited.  I ended up being the only person waiting, which apparently was most unusual, according to the very polite man who took my ticket. 

Mi Piace Medieval!

Where are you from? he asked, and after I replied, he asked if I would like the tour to be in English or Italiano.

Oh, italiano, I replied. 

But you speak italiano so clearly, he replied.  

Yes but I don’t really understand much, I wanted to say.

He happened to be the son of the family that lived there - six in total, he told me, including his parents, plus two cats.  

The Guest Room

He took me from beautiful room to beautiful room, explaining its rich history with some rooms being redecorated in the 18th, and others reflecting the deeper past of the 12th century.

I couldn’t believe I was having this personal guided tour by a family member and all for just €15.   

It felt a little like I was intruding into their personal live; they had all their personal photographs on show.  He said his parents had big lives and his is a lot smaller by comparison.  His father a racing car driver and his mother an Olympian swimmer.

I later realised it was his 80 year old father sitting out front when I first arrived.  He was probably hoping no-one would do the final tour, and then came the solo lady from New Zealand.  

Busy Market Streets

He mentioned several times the family’s historical connection to the Freemasons, and pointed out the hidden symbol of the eye inside a triangle hidden in a fresco painting on the ceiling.  

The palace was built on the ancient Roman walls and the only remaining gate was still a part of their home.  

The medieval aspect fascinated me and I told him I’ve always loved medieval things and maybe I had a happy life in a former life during those times.  

He laughed and said he felt the same, then told me he had learned the sport of fencing and just then, I felt my knees weaken.  Definitely something there.  

I said to him that New Zealand doesn’t have such a long history but he said we have the natural beauty instead.  So true, and I thought back to my time working up the mountain on the Milford track.  It was beautiful!

Street Art

Afterwards I wandered through the busy food markets and past some impressive looking churches - there were so many!  

Once back at my room, I opened the doors to the balcony to let in the noise of the city below and fell into a restful sleep. 

The following day I found the long and slow queue to the biglietteria to see the royal palace. Despite reading the disgruntled reviews of the very long wait, I thought I’d go.  

It was only 10am but already hot.  There was no shelter while queuing but I had my hat, sunnies and water.  

Narrow Streets

Once I finally got my ticket, there was a second smaller queue to the entrance, again with no shelter from the sun.  How anyone would navigate this at the height of summer was beyond me.  

It was to be a day of queuing amongst crowds of people because once I got inside, there was yet another queue of people waiting to go into the 10th century Palatine Chapel. 

It was a complete juxtaposition to yesterday where I was the only one.  

After queuing for an age I was almost at the front when I read a sign saying no vests!. Oh, I was only wearing a singlet and had left my jacket behind.  

Fortunately it turned out they didn’t care and let everyone in.  I made a mental note to buy a scarf; I would definitely need it for Morocco.  

I walked with the big crowd of people and shuffled around the chapel and then shuffled out after getting a few snaps.

The Chapel

Yes, it was impressive but compared to the personal service I had yesterday; I wished I had listened to the bad review.   I didn’t feel it was worth the €12 entrance charge.

I did pay €3.50 to see the Thesaurus exhibition at the Palace which had excavations of the city when it was a walled city dating back to before Christ was born, plus some 12th century artefacts, including some impressively decorated bags! 

Nice Bag!

I had lunch at a ristorante in the markets and soaked up the chaos of marketeers shouting, stereos blaring, horns honking as cars and vans navigated the narrow crowded lanes.  

Street Food

Ironically, my final nights in Sicily would be in Room 13, the number for me meant the end of things.

I had another critical look at the contents of my pack and threw away my NZ-multi-plug as it was bulky, heavy and not needed.  I wondered why I even brought it with me.  

There were a few more items on the chopping list as I wanted to bring the bulk of my pack down.  Next time I travel like this, I thought, I’d definitely take fewer things.  

Once I had packed my backpack on the morning before my flight, I had noticed it was becoming easier to pack and even a little lighter to carry. 

I had been struggling to put it up on the luggage racks above the seats in trains, so I figured another 2 kg could go.  

I put my backpack on and looked at myself in the mirror as I left the room… gosh, all this walking has been a great fitness regime.  My body never looked so good, in spite of all the gelato, cannoli and pane.  

In fact, my IBS had settled down since being in Italy.  

Was it the new foreign but good gut bacteria I had picked up?  

My pack was weighed at Palermo airport.  It was 17kg, down from 20kg when I left.  Okay, I just needed to drop another 2kg, I could do that.  

I hadn’t purchased any clothes or souvenirs while in Sicily but when I was in Marsala, a man gave me a fridge magnet, Memories of Sicily.