7. Surviving and Thriving

The first week of school had ended and I had a full weekend to explore.  On Friday night I was going to a concert, Saturday was a visit to the very touristy but picturesque città di Taormina, and Sunday… a boat trip to some local islands.

Once school finished on the Friday, I went into my local supermarket to buy two apples and a bottle of red wine.  €0.89 and €4.50.  

They had wine there from just €2 to €8, so I chose the mid-range.  Unlike the first apples I purchased a few days earlier, these two were floury and essentially inedible.  I went back to eating pastries after that.

The products on the shelves were very different to back home and labelled in italiano, of course.  They had mostly whole foods, frutta e verdura, fruit and vegetables, and a huge range of olive oil, bread, cheese and pasta.

There was a queue at the checkout and when I finally got there and placed my two apples down on the counter, I knew I had forgotten something but wasn’t sure what. 

Settanta. Settanta!! 

70 what, I asked, racking my brains?

Oh, I forgot to weigh two apples.  I ran back to the scales to weigh the apples and then print the ticket price, using the number/code Settanta or 70.  

Everyone patiently waited while the red-faced foreigner weighed her apples and brought the bag back to the counter.  Va bene. 

Pizza Festa

Later that evening I walked back into the centre and met up with classmate Sandra, an Argentinian.  Once we got chatting, I discovered she couldn’t actually speak English.  

We found a way to communicate in italiano while we ate pizza and gelato.  Just before 9pm we headed to the teatro, theatre, which was in a small and very old, purpose-built building.  

Once we got our €16 tickets, we were shown the stairs and I was excited to see we had our own private box on the second level of the dress circle.  It had a perfect view to the stage.

The singer had a beautiful strong voice and I wished he just sang; but he also told a story between his songs, getting quite loud and emotional at times.  The audience loved it!  

Teatro in Milazzo

Of course I understood niente, nothing, but I was able to pick up on the energy of his performance.  His dilly-dallying dance across the stage was quite endearing, however I fell asleep at some point because I was so tired!  

Learning italiano through the week required constant concentration and then with all that walking to and from home and school took its toll.  I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

I was also quite distracted by the weird and greasy feeling in my mouth.  Earlier before going out, I had accidentally brushed my teeth with face cream instead of toothpaste.  I was tasting Nivea all night and it wasn’t great!

Sandra however loved the concert and she danced, clapped and had a great time.  When it finally ended, she was crying out Bravo, Bravo, Bravo.

It was well after 11pm when I began the thirty minute walk back home. The streets were dark and empty and I was wondering just how safe it was for me being alone when some teenage boys smashed something over a car and then went running in my direction before scattering past me.  

The Dark Way Home!

I had been told many times that it was safe here in Milazzo, and I mostly felt it...  but just then, I didn’t.  

Fortunately I made it home safely and slept well.  I had an early start the following day and walked the 35 minutes to the port and bus stop.  

Wearing mum’s hat!

I took the 7:30am bus from Milazzo to Messina, and then the 9am train to Taormina.  

The train cost €5.50 each way and took an hour or so to get there, which I thought was great value.

There was another cruise ship in at Messina so the train was already full of mostly Americans.  Ironically I sat behind an elderly couple from New Zealand;  their accent was very clear.  

As the train pulled up to Taormina, I asked them where they were from, in italiano, as a laugh.  Da dove sei?  I asked, looking very serious.

Errr, what, the man replied, kurfuddled?

Sei neozelandese, I asked?

They stared back at me with a blank look.   

Where in NZ are you from, I asked in English?  

Oh, oh!  we don’t understand a word of Italian, the lady replied.  How did you know where we are from?  It’s Auckland, by the way.  

I’m from Tauranga, I told them.  

Oh, we thought you were Italian!  They laughed, relaxing once they knew I was a Kiwi. 

From the train station at Taormina, I basically followed the crowd out to a bus stop.  The bus took us up, up, up the hill to the città centro, and within the walls of a castle, were narrow streets of beautiful boutique shops and restaurants.  

Great Views over the Coast!

Despite the early hour the streets were already very busy.  

The crowd walked to the first tourist attraction inside the gates and formed a queue.  I just followed the crowd and paid the €12 to see the 300BC amphitheater, built by the Greeks but replaced by the Romans.  

A Wall.

I had to fight the many would-be IG Influencers (who took up all the space as they found a dozen ways to pose for the camera), just to see the view of the coast below.

The view was stunning, but I loved the boutique specialty shops that sold Sicilian ceramics and essentially anything yellow and lemon.  

Yellow Pasta!

In fact the shops reminded me of my old stores, and for a moment, I missed retail.

It Got Busier!

Being very-touristy here, I was warned that the prices were more expensive compared to other places in Sicily.  For that reason I brought my lunch with me and I ate bread and cheese on the steps of an old church.

Later, I sat down at a table under the shade of a lemon tree, opposite the famous and busy Bam bar and asked for un bicchiere di vino bianco, a glass of white wine. 

Cruise Ship Tourists!

The waiter told me there is a word that describes the wine glass, the one you hold from underneath:  calice.  Okay… un vino bianche calice, per favore. I paid the €5 and enjoyed a lovely fruity wine while I watched the tourists walk past.

Bougainvillea grows like a weed in Sicily; they are everywhere!  Their mass of brightly coloured flowers painted the landscape with many shades of magenta.  

Flowering Bougainvillea 

I had told my sister, who has been looking after my garden, don’t let the bougainvillea grow back!  As beautiful as this plant is, they have viscous thorns!  

They suit climbing down the walls of castles, over tall pergolas and scrambling down the steep cliffs over beautiful beaches, but not in a small garden in Papamoa!  

Maybe I might plant one as a standard in a pot when I get back in Spring to remind me of Sicily.  

The Prettiest Views

It was mid afternoon before I knew it so I took a bus down to the beautiful Isola Bella - a beach, where at low tide, one can walk across to the tiny island that has a house on top.

The Cutest Buildings

It was beautiful but I was ready to head back to Milazzo.  

My broken foot was very sore… obviously not healed yet!  

For the life of me I couldn’t find a bus stop back to the train station, so I decided to give my foot a break 🤣and splashed out on a taxi which cost €20. Actually that was a rip off but I did get to the train station just minutes before a train departed back to Messina.

It was also perfectly timed at Messina as the Giuntabus had just pulled up at its bus stop and I was back at the Milazzo port just 45 minutes later.  

As I walked back home, I felt quietly proud that I had managed the public transport and had a lovely day in Taormina, ALL ON MY OWN!  

Turned out that some of my fellow students from a different class went to Taormina on the same day as me.  They had decided to take the 8:30am bus to Messina.  

Apparently the bus never showed (I think they were initially at the wrong bus stop) so they then took a different bus which took them off in the wrong direction.  

They had to wait and catch a returning bus, only to just miss the Guintabus once back, and then they waited for another hour before getting to Messina. By the time they got to Taormina, most of the day had gone.  

Should have gone to Spec-savers. 🤣

Sunday’s adventures in next post.