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Buon Natale
So just a quickie about our Christmas celebrations in Sicily. As previously mentioned, we moved to Sailor Boy’s place for the holiday. We didn’t stay with him the whole time in Catania simply because he lives on the third floor, with no elevator, and, well HWSNBN can’t do stairs anymore. It took all three of us to get him up those steps. Singer Girl and Sailor Boy alternated schlepping luggage, steadying Dad from the front, and racing upstairs to turn the motion sensor lights back on (did I mention we moved very slowly?). I stood below, lifting each foot up each stair, left right step. Left right step. So yeah: it was a team effort.
As soon as we got inside, we opened wine. We deserved it.
Sailor Boy had ordered a bunch of food for us to enjoy that night and during the next day. There was pizza, pasta, baked chicken and more. After our dinner, we unveiled the traditional Christmas dessert in Italy: Panettone. Ours was a Ferrero Rocher one — gooey and sweet and naughty. Thanks, girlfriend Lisa, for picking it out!
Christmas day was super chill. In Sicily, Christmas eve is a long night of eating (mostly fish), so the day itself is pretty mellow. So we took a cue. We spent the day doing very un-Christmassy stuff, and generally relaxing. The views outside didn’t hurt.
We listened to odd rap Chirstmas songs (I will not subject you to Sailor Boy’s dance moves).
We had coffee and mimosas.
We played games.
We ate more panettone. We tried to convince Sailor Boy’s rescue kitties that we were nice.
We watched a Rick and Morty marathon.
We napped.
We watched a movie — Don’t Look Up. Not a typical holiday movie, but we weren’t doing normal Christmas this year, so it worked out.
After the movie it was time to head back to Catania (after descending those dreaded stairs, of course). In the morning, we were changing locations, so we needed to rest and pack. Sailor Boy was a great host, and it was wonderful just chilling family style all day. I don’t knw when we will get another day like that, so I will treasure the memoires– irreverent thought they may be!
When Homer met the Don
We woke that morning without a horse’s head in our beds. But Mario was still about to make us an offer we couldn’t refuse.
Today, we would visit some of the locations for the filming of one of the best movies of all times, The Godfather, perhaps the best sequel of all times, The Godfather Part 2, and one of the most unfortunate series films, The Godfather Part 3. (Coppola really should’ve stopped with number 2, but that’s a discussion for another day).
We met Mario and our driver in front of the hotel and started our journey north. Along the way, we stopped to take pictures at The “Cyclops Riviera.” Sicily is steeped in legend, as are all ancient places. If you remember your Homer, during his journey Odysseus and his crew sought refuge on an island, where they feasted on fresh water and sheep they found. Unfortunately, the “shepherd” was a giant one-eyed dude who didn’t take kindly to the theft. One thing led to another” sailors were eaten, the Cyclops got drunk, Odysseus blinded him, and the remaining crew escaped, only to have the Cyclops furiously hurling rocks after them into the sea.
These, legend has it, are those rocks.
We climbed back into the van and resumed our trek, past the shadow of Mt Etna, winding up the hills to the village of Savoca.
When Francis Ford Coppola was scouting Sicily for locations, he first went to the village of Corleone, where the fictional family originates. But filming was impossible there, and the town was too modern. But a native of Catania suggested Savoca and, upon visiting it, Coppola fell under its spell.
So did we.
The film changed the town’s trajectory: it became famous, but it is so isolated it retains it’s charm. There are a few “modern” buildings, but they mimic the ancient styles so they don’t look like eyesores. Local artist Nino Ucchino did a stunning mirrored sculpture as a tribute to Coppola. Despite it’s clearly modern look, it works, and the symbolism is clear: the town saw itself reflected in his vision, and he saw the film reflected in their town.
When you turn away from the sculpture, you see the Bar Vitelli. This is where Michael sat when he first saw Apollonia, where he asked about her to the bar owner (who happened to be her father), and where he ultimately proposed.
Mario told us of the woman who owned the bar and her lifelong relationship with Coppola and the actors in the film. Inside is a room devoted to memorabilia (and quaint stuff — not some plastic schlock you’d find in a tourist trap).
It was time to sit in the sun and sample some of the amazing granita — just a frozen ice and fruit or nut concoction. While we debated which flavor was best (lemon, almond or pistachio — almond won IMO!), we enjoyed watching the kitties play around us.
Next Singer Girl and I tucked HWSNBN inside the cafe with an espresso, looking rather godfather-esque.
Then Mario guided us up a series of windy streets (NOT wheelchair friendly) to the church where Michael and Apollonia were married.
As you can imagine, this town was very Instagrammable. Patient Mario indulged Singer Girl and I all day. Hopefully you will as well. Here are some of my favorite shots from Savoca.
We had one more stop on our Godfather tour: Forzo d’Agro, and the only location in all three of the movies. This little hillside village with majestic views of the Mediterranean. We didn’t stay long, but wandered a bit and enjoyed the atmosphere.
Then it was time to head back to town to rest up for dinner. Sailor Boy had been busy running errands, as the next day was Christmas Eve. We were joining him at another of his favorite restaurants, Sapio.
Sapio is in some ways similar to Travail, here in the Twin Cities, where food is performance art, and you never quite know what you are getting. It was surprisingly, well, rigid for an Italian restaurant. there were four set menus, and everyone at the table had to agree to the same one. The problem? Most had fish/seafood, which I don’t eat. We finally settled on a menu, even if Sailor Boy and HWSNBN were sad they couldn’t enjoy some of the delights taunting them from their preferred menus. But the wait staff wouldn’t budge. Things were a bit tense for a minute, as this dinner was clearly important to Sailor Boy. But once the menus disappeared an our wine glasses filled up, we relaxed. The menus only mentioned the traditional four Italian courses: an appetizer, a primi (often pasta), a secondi and dessert. But those were just the tip of the ice berg. All told, I think we had about a dozen courses, each one prettier than the next.
Needless to say, we were more than ready for bed when dinner was done. We said goodnight to the kids, who would meet up with us again in the morning as we did our last official day with Mario.
I had heard that Taormina was not to be missed, so when Mario suggested we rearrange our itinerary and visit there, I easily agreed. Today, Sailor Boy joined us, so the whole family enjoyed a day of stunning weather, vistas and, of course: food! On the way, we pulled over to get a great look at Mt Etna.
Next our driver brought us first to a beautiful overlook, where we enjoyed the sparkling Mediterranean views (and took some Insta worthy pics, lol).
Then it was off to the ancient amphitheater, where they still hold concerts amid the crumbling ruins.
Mario’s wife Mara owns a leather goods shop in Taormina (Mara’s Handmade Leather), so we decided to check it out when we got to town. So cute! We purchased a few gifts for friends, then wandered for a bit. It was Christmas Eve, so families were out in full force. Of course, they thought we were nuts: it was 65 and sunny, and most of us has bare arms. The Sicilians were bundled up (it was about 60 degrees warmer than at home for us!). It has been great travelling to places “off season,” as we were practically the only Americans we saw — in fact, there were very few non-Italians in a typically very crowded town. Taormina reminded me a bit of Vail, with its meandering streets full of quaint shops and restaurants.
I loved the jewelry in this shop’s windows!
And look closely: this is NOT what you think it is!
The Christmas tree set up in the main square was a great place to gather and enjoy just being together. As Mario Puzo wrote in The Godfather, “a man who doesn’t spend time with his family can never be a real man.”
Mario asked us to meet him outside one of the many churches when we were ready for lunch. For years I have been fascinated by old churches and cathedrals, and now Singer Girl seems to find them just as captivating, so we investigated this one while the boys waited outside. By many standards, this church was humble, but to me just as lovely as far richer places of worship.
Lunch that day was one of our favorite meals (even if the locale was NOT wheelchair friendly). Mario set us up to eat outside at Osteria Santa Domenica. Between the sunshine, the service, the food and the wine, it was one of the best moments of the trip. And those fried artichokes…
It was time to head back to the hotel. We were heading to Sailor Boy’s place for the night and the next day — it being Christmas Eve and all! So we packed up for the night, and headed to his place!
Sicily is Not Italy…
If you read my last post, you’ll know that we have some new challenges in our lives. But I’ll be damned if we curl up in a ball and hide from the world.
So, despite HWSNBN’s ALS diagnosis, we set out last month on a long-planned trip to visit Sailor Boy in Italy.
Correction. Sicily.
Wait, you say: isn’t Sicily a part of Italy? Well, yes, politically speaking. And yes, they speak Italian and have phenomenal food and fashion sense, and horrific driving. But we learned quickly that when you are a land that has been around for 10,000 years, it takes more than a measly 162 years to make you really a new identity.
But more on the history lesson later. First, we need to get to Europe.
Months ago, before I knew we would have the ALS to consider, I decided to utilize a travel agent for the first time to get this trip planned. Enter the amazing Amanda from Pique Travel. She had everything planned: hotels, cars, tours and guides, even wheelchairs at every step of the way. We used the app Unmapped to keep tabs of all reservations and tickets, and of course utilized What’sApp to communicate with her and our European contacts.
ALS was our unofficial travel partner all the way through, and he made us nervous. He was always there in the back of our minds, slowing us down, causing anxiety as we worried about how he would try to complicate and crash the party. Thankfully, contrary to popular belief, the world is full of amazing, humans willing to go out of the way to smooth things out for us.
The minute we pulled up at MSP airport (driven by the amazing Abdulla, referred to us by friends Christie and Jim. Let me know if you need his number for your driving needs!), a wonderful airport worker jumped into action. Seeing me wrangling multiple suitcases and Rich trudging along with his walker, he declared: “You need a wheelchair!” We didn’t even get inside to ask at the Delta desk for the one reserved for us. The MSP staff took charge, chauffeuring Rich and helping me get everything to the front of the check in line. (FYI: being physically challenged DOES have its perks: we went to the front of every line in every airport in all three countries, from check in to security to boarding to customs. Nice!). After we were checked in, we were escorted through security (thank you Clear — always worth the subscription fee IMO), then had time to enjoy the PGA Lounge (courtesy of Priority Pass, a great perk we got with the Chase card — thanks for the tip, Thrifty Traveler!). We asked our escort what to do when it was time to head tot eh gate, and she assured me someone would meet us at the lounge, and they did. Our escort was going off duty, but came with a coworker to make sure we were cared for correctly. Wow: mad props.
The flight worried us: HWSNBN can’t move easily or quickly anymore. When he needed to get up to stretch or use the restroom, I walked in front of him, facing him, holding his hands to keep him safe. It felt precarious, and probably disruptive to some (it’s hard to walk steadily on a plane during the best of circumstances), but everyone resected our odd journey. Flight attendants cleared the aisles for us, and constantly asked how they could help. They also, before I could even bring it up, let me know that they had confirmed that a wheelchair would be waiting for us at the gate.
Classy, professional, caring. Thank you, Delta!
We arrived in Amsterdam unscathed, but tired. Normally I schedule flights to Europe for late in the evening, but this one was an afternoon flight. There aren’t a ton of flights daily to Catania, and we were also coordinating with Singer Girl, who was flying n from Detroit. Our flight landed a couple hours before hers, and we went to the transfer station to make sure we were all set for the next flight. The lovely woman at the KLM desk realized our luggage was not checked all the way through, so quickly fixed that — and told us to come straight to her desk when our daughter arrived so she could personally make sure hers was set as well. When we di that, the woman immediately recognized me and said “Catania!” I mean, how many travelers had she helped in the past two hours, but she still remembered us and our destination. I know I am pretty memorable, but wow: again we were impressed.
The flight was also uneventful, and we were treated with views of Mount Etna, quietly exhaling her volcanic breath as we approached.
Once again, a wheelchair was waiting for us. Unfortunately, our luggage was not. Somehow all the good efforts of the KLM transfer desk agent were in vain. I felt a bit like Etna as I dealt with the situation as best I could: breathing deeply to let off steam so I didn’t blow my top. I know HWSNBN was frustrated that he couldn’t really help. Singer Girl went out to greet our driver, Stefano, and fill him in on the delay. We had no idea where our nags were or when they would arrive, given the afore-mentioned lack of Catania flights. But we finalized the paperwork, loaded ourselves into the van, and headed, finally, to the hotel.
Sailor Boy was meeting us for dinner, and bringing along his darling Sicilian girlfriend who we had of course not yet met. I informed him of the AWOL luggage, and he assured me our hotel was in a prime shopping district. Once HWSNBN was safely ensconced and napping at the hotel, Singer Girl and I ventured out to get supplies for the next two days. I typically don’t visit any stores or restaurants on vacation that I can visit at home, but desperate times call for desperate measure, and there were an H & M and a Sephora on the same block, so off we went. We purchased some basics for all 3 of us, and headed back to quickly do what we could to tidy up before dinner.
We were staying at the Hotel Una Palace in the heart of historic Catania.
We had a small suite: spacious bedroom, bathroom, large walk through closet and small sitting area with couch. It was just the right size for spreading out and wheeling about a walker and wheelchair. The hotel had an elevator, which theoretically made it accessible for those with mobility issues, but man those European shower/tub combos are a bear when someone is unsteady on their feet and can’t easily bend their legs! But we managed!
We supposedly had reservations at the stunning rooftop restaurant, Etnea. However, when Sailor Boy and the Lovely Lisa checked in for us, the restaurant couldn’t find our reservation. Exasperated, I sent them Sailor Boy the confirmation email. He texted me shortly afterwards.
“HAHAHA. Mom. That’s in Turin. I don’t think we can make that reservation, it’s a good 3 hour flight.”
Well. Dammit.
They were able to fit us in — although an hour later than we planned, because Sicilian restaurants rarely open for dinner before 8pm. So we made do with snacks and the best damn tasting cocktail I have ever freaking had. Dinner was great. We all laughed, and were so happy to finally be together. Lovely Lisa was as charming as Sailor Boy is goofy. She was nervous meeting us, which is silly, but I understood. She hit it off (I think!) with all of us.
After dinner, it was more than time for bed. HWSNBN and I crashed at the hotel, while Singer Girl was staying at her brother’s apartment. We said goodnight, eager to see each other again in the morning to begin our Sicilian experience in earnest (and in newly purchased clothing…but I digress…).
HOtels in Europe do the free breakfast thing waaaay better in the states. I popped down in the AM and brought up a plate for HWSNBN. Here’s a really underwhelming pic of the buffet, which had cakes, pastries, meats, cheeses, fruits, veg and more.
After breakfast, we met Mario, who was to be our guide (and friend) for the next few days. We were doing a walking tour of Catania. We met the kids at a café, where Mario plied them with espresso and arancini, the amazing fried rice balls native to the area, as they had not been privy to the luxurious hotel fare. Fortified, we set off.
So about that history lesson! Sicily has been inhabited for 10,000 years, and, during that time, has been settled or ruled by many dynasties, including the Greeks, Romans and Bourbons. All over you see the influence of these cultures and all the others around the Mediterranean. The Turks were in charge for awhile, and during the Muslim rule of the 9th through 11th centuries, Catania became known as the city of the elephant. Why? There is a black lava stone elephant fountain (topped with an Egyptian obelisk) in the main square. U Liotru, as it is called, is the city’s symbol. Was there an elephant on the island? Maybe!
The island’s buildings and layout are absolutely colored by not only the cultural diversity, but by the geological history. Catania is known as the black city, as the oldest roads and buildings are made from lava stone (thanks, Etna). But thanks to massive earthquakes and WWII, the cities are varied, making them a fascinating architectural study (many buildings were constructed not only on top of old foundations, but from the ruins of the ones that preceded them).
Italians take their Christian holidays pretty seriously. Sicily is famous for its creches, or manger scenes. This one inside Sant ‘Agatha of Sicily, who was born in Catania, was stunning — and about 10 feet long!
There are certain things I always take pictures of on holiday: markets, doorways and side streets. This trip was no different. Mario led us to a stunning food market, where we feasted with all our senses.
Oh: and I also have a thing for funky vehicles…
The fod market was an appetizer course: we had local pistachios and nut brittles, and Sailor Boy had oysters right there on the street.
Then Mario directed us down this charming street…
…then directed us to wait in front of a shop. Singer Girl took the opportunity to make a local feline friend…
…and Mario worked his magic. As we watched, a flurry of people swarmed out of the shop, and set up little tables and chairs for us. They set the tables, and invited us to sit. nest thing we knew we were eating cheeses and meats, hand picked by Mario, and drinking wine, as we watched the world go by. One of my favorite trip moment, as a humble alleyway became OUR personal restaurant.
Then we wandered further through Catania, back through the square and past our hotel. The main street was bustling with shoppers. We looked in windows, but we were so happy to be outside in the sunshine we didn’t want to stop. A running joke began that day: the Sicilians thought we were crazy. While we reveled in temps in the 60s, they bundled up in scarves, coats and gloves. At one point, someone yelled to a tank-top clad Singer Girl “where are you from?!” We enjoyed stressing Mario out by our lack of winter garb!
Our last stop on the tour was at Savia, where Mario treated us to more arancini and pastries — and wine, of course. Mario had “American prosecco”: Coca Cola.
We said goodbye to Mario for the day, the kids headed back to Sailor Boy’s abode, and HWSNBN and I went to the hotel to nap — and see if our luggage had arrived. No such luck. I logged into the website provided me by the Catania airport, but it was all in Italian. I decided to go to Twitter to get answers. I described our plight, mentioning my husband’s medical condition and the fat tat we were in town visiting our military-serving son. KLM responded less than 4 minutes later! Within 30 minutes we learned our luggage had boarded a flight to Rome the previous day by mistake, and would be arriving at our hotel within a few hours! Such great news — and great customer service!
When it arrived, I unpacked and we got to shower and do all the things you take for granted when you have your luggage, lol. We decided to walk to the restaurant for dinner, rather than make the kids try and pick us up (it was tough to do so, as no private cars were allowed on the street front of the hotel). It was drizzly, so my hair was a mess by the time we got there, but it was a riot, navigating cobble stone streets in a wheelchair. I burned off all the days treats for sure, and we joked that it is not a vacation until HWSNBN and I get lost on a “Bataan death march,” as my family likes to call my happy meanderings.
That night we ate at one of Sailor Boy’s favorite Michelin star restaurants, Km0.
We had a dreadful time…
Singer Girl decided to crash on our couch that night, as Sailor Boy and Lisa had plans with her friends, and he wasn’t going on the tour with us the next morning (she also wanted to check out the hotel breakfast buffet!). We said our goodbyes, and went back to crash, and dream about what visual and gustatorial delights awaited us in the morning!
A little Ado About Everything we 