10 MIRAMAR MEMBERS GET THE BOOT

Next day, Saturday(Sabato), October 14,  Alberto drove us via  the autostrada @ 125  km/hr to Alba, home of the truffles festival and torrone candy.  Because of the torrential rains plaguing northern Italy at the time, we skipped the festival and walked the town.  At lunch at Virgin Mudest, some of us found truffles at 50,000 Lire per slice as overrated as pumpkin pie.  As for torrone, unless you want to break your teeth and make the dentists rich, skip the torrone, too.  We met some interesting friends of Alberto from Rhode Island, and Marvin, our elected leader, had a ball kissing both cheeks of the women (and men) as is the custom. The meal at Virgin Mudest, an award- winning eatery, was also five anti-pasti, main course, and molti bene wines. Alberto knew the owners from his days as a pilot, flying in and out of Sicily and frequenting Alba, where he had an apartment. The present owner used to be the waitress whose ass Alberto loved to pinch.  She got even by pinching his ass in front of us, thus setting the stage for a fun meal. Then on to Barola Chinato for some wine tasting in the hills, and I mean hills! After tasting the wine (pishochs!) Alberto drove us back to Milan in the rain (in the van). We entered the autostrada just south of the flooded out segment. Very lucky! Historical note: Carabinieri are stupid.

Sunday( Domenica), October 15.  Flight to Palermo Airport (PMO) where  Titan Rock jutted out at the end of our runway. We were met by our Sicily guide, Loredana, a contraction of Madonna de Loreto, as is the custom in Italy. Loredana is an art-history professor at Palermo University, an old friend of Alberto, who prepared an excellent itinerary for us, including some country inns (agri-tourism villas) that we never would have found on our own. Our first stop was Villa Esperia (www.cd-net.it/villaesperia) in the Mondello section of Palermo, a beach resort, complete with a crescent shaped beach with a yacht club at each end.  More about the yacht club later.  Dinner at a beachfront restaurant was very relaxing.  On the walk home Ruth tripped on a piece of sidewalk that somehow was in the wrong place.  Back at the hotel Alberto, who is a medical doctor, treated her scraped arm and black eye.  A guest at the hotel with a large bump on his head also requested treatment, which Alberto provided. Coincidentally, Ollie woke up that morning with a bad cold which settled in a nerve in her face, and the starboard side of her lip skewed upside her head like a telltale on a pinched jib. Loredana knew a neurosurgeon in Palermo,  and an appointment was made for Ollie to see him.  Nothing however would keep Ollie or Ruth from enjoying the trip. Our main activities then became seeking out farmacias  (pron. pharmachia) as well as ATMs.   Historical note:   The sidewalk stones of Palermo are a P.I. lawyer's delight.

Monday (Lunedi),  October 16.  Sleep until 9, continental breakfast at 9:30. At this point I realized I was suffering from eggstipation, i.e., we hadn't had an egg since we crossed the ponds. In Palermo that day we visited the Palazzo Reale (Norman Palace), a mixture of Roman and Arabic remains,  the Botanical Gardens and the Vucciria Market, where we were cautioned  to guard our valuables.  In Palermo we started to get a look at fortress mentality.  All the villas were situated behind walls and locked gates. Also English language newspapers (European Herald Tribune) were getting scarce, the same with TV. We couldn't find out if the Mets won the pennant.   On the way back to the hotel we walked around the Municipal Marina.  Loredana, Alberto, Ralph, and Makenzie took Ollie to the neurosurgeon for a checkup; the rest of us returned to the hotel for a lie-down.  Dinner was at da Calogero, a trattoria on the beachfront amusement section, followed by gelato (ice cream).

Tuesday (martedi), October 17.   We boarded our bus for the drive to the temples of Segeste, the medieval village of Erice and our hotel for the night, Baglio Santa Croce in Trapani, built in the 1600's, but with a swimming pool added.  The main house was museum quality, and having breakfast the following morning in it was a moving experience.  Speaking of moving, it was there that I had my first movement of the trip. Historical note:   Plumbing also in Italy is creative, with postage stamp size showers and toilets that trickle and are sometimes built into the floor. These are called pit toilets; now I know where the expression came from! Bidets, I won't even go there!

Wednesday (mercredi), October 18. Continental breakfast again at our hotel Baglio Santa Croce (no eggs) and a short bus ride to the salt mines at Etore E Infersa and an unexpectedly enjoyable boat ride over the shallow Stagnone Lagoon where the salt is harvested much as it has been for two centuries to Mothe island.  Mothe Island is a living museum, with a self- directed tour of 2700 years of  defense and occupation, sort of like Sicily's Mystic Seaport and Essex, CT,  combined. It was there we met a Brooklyn artist, Peppe Genna, who made all sorts of useless things out of thatch. Feeling kinship with a fellow Brooklyn expatriate, Alberto had him engrave our names on little stones as a souvenir of our trip. Tom chose to leave his stone in a place where he could retrieve it on his next trip to Italy. (Sort of like a having a pipe at Keene's Chop House.)  We had our lunch in view of the salt hills and windmills, and then drove to Agrigento Agnero, where we stayed at an exquisite working farm-hotel,  Fattoria Mose (farm of Moses).   www.asinform.it/aziende/agnello/   Their web page has pictures and a map.. This was a working farm 4km from the Valley of Temples and 3km from the sea. They grow oranges, almonds, pistacchios, fruits and vegetables, wheat and prepare extra virgin olive oil. Ruth purchased some olive oil. The 18th Century rooms in the main house were crammed with antiques, but the stables were converted into state of the art "kuchalines."  There were also sheep, a horse, dogs, cats and flies galore. The innkeepers prepared dinner with local victuals, and joined us for a stimulating meal. I think they were glad to have the company.   Ruth and I admired the cane dining chairs, but thought Alitalia would frown upon our bringing our own seats assignments.

Thursday (giovedi) October 19.  Heading for Marsala, we stopped for a tour of the Valley of the Temples. This was a walk into past centuries, and we savored it.  The Concordie Temple is a Christian church built inside a a Greek temple. Along the paths were necropolis (stone burial vaults), which Alberto took to jumping into for photo op. It was about this point in our trip that we could see Mt Etna in the distance to the north,   with its own weather system. Dinner this night was at Pesco Mare, in Siracusa, where Alberto took charge of selecting the local fish for us to eat. After dinner we walked the waterfront of Siracusa. The waterfront in Siracusa was a combination of fishing boats, pleasure boats, excursion boats and an Italian Coast Guard Station; much like Sheepshead Bay,  except for the steamer impounded for smuggling 1700 Albanians. Lodging in Siracusa was at Villa Lucia, another unbelievable country inn. Memorabilia in the main house surpassed all that we had seen before. As an accommodation to tourism, the stables were converted to "cottages" and there was a modern swimming pool. (See photo and place cursor on the image for a brief description.)  Historical note: Tom provided the historical notes here by reading to us from the history books. He and Alberto bought Jew's harps, which are known in the area as  "scacciapensieri," or "thought chasers."

Friday (venedi), October 20.  Magnificent breakfast, senso oeuves, at Villa Santa Lucia (see photo) and then a ride on the riverboat  "CIANI"  in a eucalyptus forest (see photo). We then revisited Siracusa to see the ancient Greek theatre (5th century BC) and  Dionysius' Ear, a prison inside a natural cave, whose acoustics were so good that the captors could listen in on the captives whispered conversations - before executing them.

Saturday (sabato again), October 21. We departed Siracusa for a scenic drive to Taormina, now tinged with feelings that our trip was nearing its end. On our left we had breathtaking views of Mt Etna again to the west and later to the south, and soon on our right the straits of Messina, from which you can see Calabria, Italy. Conveniently enough, there was a sailboat race in the straits, and we tried to figure out who was winning. Our lodging for the night was the Andromaco Palace Hotel which was built into the hills of Taormina, not far from the town square built into the terraced hills overlooking the Ionian coast. The hotel was modern, with a swimming pool, and CNN so we could finally hear what was going on in the world. Prior to this event we got our news from daily briefings by Alberto. The Israeli-Arab conflict overtook the Mets-Giants conflict as topic number one. At dinner in the shadow of the Duomo in the Palazzo Corvaja, we discussed the following day's visit to the Ruggero De Lauria Yacht Club in Palermo, and who was to give the speech when we exchanged burgees.

Sunday (domenica, again), October 22.  A bus ride back to Palermo and Villa Esperia for our last full day of vacation. We were familiar with these surroundings, and we relaxed walking the crescent-shaped beach, enjoying gelato on the promenade, and   engaging in heartfelt conversation with each other. These are truly great moments of Miramar memorabilia. In early evening we visited aforementioned yacht club, where we were met by a lone member, Vice President Gabriel Guccione, who toasted us with champagne and presented us with a museum quality book extolling their club, and a burgee plaque.   There was no group present to give a speech, but I gave it anyway because I had rehearsed with Alberto. Vice President Guccione listened attentively, and then we got the impression that our time was up. Ruth was annoyed that we did not receive a burgee in return, but I reasoned that a plaque was more durable. Both the plaque and the book can be seen in our trophy case, including the greeting in Italian to our commodore Alberto Fine.   The fact that their bridge consisted of a president and vice president made me wonder if this yacht club did indeed have "owners."

Monday, October 23.  Bus ride to Palermo Airport  (PMO) and our last look at Titan Rock.  We flew to Rome's Fiumicino Airport (FCU), where we connected for a flight to JFK.  No matter how great the trip, it's good to get home. But sharing the experience with friends extends the pleasure.    Amen.

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