Taormina

Taormina was an hour from Mount Etna. At first, the coach driver had to  contend with thick fog or  low cloud - whichever you prefer to call it as we wound our way  to a lower altitude. Then we were off the mountain and back on the coastal motorway  heading north. 

Taormina is a small coastal city that sits on high ground above the sea. It has been a popular tourist destination since the late nineteenth century. In addition, it is a very ancient place that was settled by Greeks as early as 734BC.

Sadly, after alighting from the coach and catching a shuttle bus to the centre of Taormina, we had less than two hours of sightseeing time. I knew of the amphitheatre that was built by the Greeks and later developed during the Roman era and we headed straight there. Perhaps unfortunately, the annual Taormina film festival is still in progress and this meant that a huge silver screen and modern seating have temporarily been installed at the ancient theatre so our view of it was slightly spoilt. However, I suppose it is quite nice that the auditorium still occasionally functions as a living place of entertainment.

It was 100°F as we wandered around the theatre site. We treated ourselves to beakers of Sicilian orange juice after watching a roadside kiosk owner squeeze it from freshly sliced oranges. Heavenly nectar - making regular supermarket orange juice seem like camel piss. No wonder I rarely drink it.

Back on our coach, I finished reading "Chronicle of Death Foretold" by Gabriel García Marquez. It is really just a novella but in its 122 pages it reveals an intimate sense of community and foreboding. Good translators have helped to confirm that Marquez was a very gifted writer. He died in Mexico City in 2014 leaving behind a  bookshelf of well-crafted literature. I very much enjoyed "Love In The Time of Cholera" but I must read more.

We arrived back at our resort hotel just before seven in the evening. There was a cold bottle of Birra Messina waiting for me in our fridge. It had been a really good day out... in spite of Giovanni.

from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/7V0QXPd