Sunday 19 May
Julie woke me at 3am with a cup of tea. I now know how John Hamphries felt every day for about 30 years getting up for the Today programme.Bloody awful.
However it was MY BIRTHDAY so it was a very special day for little old me.
We drove up to Luton airport and arrived at 4.30. I say we, but actually Julie drove and I commented on all the middle lane hoggers on the M25, the annoying twats.
We had all the usual EasyJet experience which is too dull to relate, and arrived in Catania, the second city of Sicily.
Usually the first day of a holiday is sub-optimal. Where’s the bus stop at the airport? Which bus do we get to reach Siracusa? Don’t let those bastards get our seats! Then stuck on a crappy bus for over an hour looking at industrial suburbs before arriving in Siracusa.
But then you arrive and the actual holiday begins, woo hoo!
You gotta take the rough with the smooth, so there was a big thunderstorm on our way to the flat, and we had to invest in umbrellas that we will probably not use again.
The flat is on the 4th floor of an old building in Ortigia, which is Siracusa old town. It’s where Archimedes lived and was killed by a Roman soldier. Mathematical joke – what is Archimedes favourite food: Apple 3.141
Geddit!!!??
Ortigia is about 1000m long and 500m wide, a small peninsula that was the heart of ancient Syracuse. Sicily belonged to the Greeks and Carthaginians before it became Roman territory. The Duomo (cathedral) was a Greek and Roman temple, and incorporates Doric columns in its walls.
I appreciated all the ancient beauty for several glorious minutes before being magnetically drawn into a gelateria. Since it was my birthday I had a big ice-cream, three big scoops plopped on top of each other. The gelato was geologically unstable, and the different strata soon slid around, and it nearly cascaded into my lap. But I skillfully re-established equilibrium with the tiny plastic spoon and my slobbery lips, before I had a gelato avalanche.
Ortigia reminds me of Valetta in scale and the baroque architecture that dominates the city after the 1693 earthquake. Where the rendering has fallen off some buildings you can see that they are built of rubble, bricks and mortar in a very haphazard fashion which would give a modern building inspector apoplexy. But they have stood for over 300 years, so I guess that construction method works.
On the sea front is the Fountain of Arethusa, a freshwater spring which has payrus growing in it. Arethusa is the patron nymph of Siracusa, and according to legend this is where she emerged from the underworld. I was looking out for her but she didn’t show up. Nymphs are very unreliable.
On the promenade we saw a cafe serving Aperol Spritz to happy looking people. So we joined them and also partook of the happiness. I sucked on my orange straw and consumed several small baskets of salty deep fried ultra processed food. Tim Spector would be horrified, but fuck it, its my birthday. By the way, the local Messina beer is very average, I prefer Lidl Perlenbacher. I do have sophisticated tastes.
Ortigia is very small and walkable. It is touristy, but it is not overwhelmed at the moment. Go there dear reader and you too will become as happy as I am.
As I type I’m on the terrace of our flat 5 stories up looking at terracotta roofs with swifts flying around in great haste. Being sixty eight does have some compensations.
timharnesstravels 