Sunday, 21 June 2015

Sciacca - my adopted family

One night in the beautiful fishing village of Sciacca was enough for me to feel adopted by my B&B hosts. I awoke for breakfast and quietly ate my croissant and drank my coffee and then went to check out. What followed was an hilarious conversation about sharks, Sydney, fighting kangaroos and other near death experiences all shared in mangled Italian and English. The tree are mother (Angela) and son (Mario) and employee (Maria). Maria had visited her zio (uncle) in Sydney, loved the harbour but only ever swam in a pool for fear of sharks. The mother's niece (I think), is an illustrator of books and so we spoke of writing and books and artists. They got me to sign my postcard (Paradiso) and made me feel like a rock star insisting that I should return next year to speak at their writers' festival (and offering their niece as an illustrator for the book if required).

Bon Jovi,  they told me is a local, returning to visit regularly but incognito; Bono, they also claimed as one of their own - a connection through his father I think. I  asked if Paul McCartney was also from Sciacca but they pointed out that he is English. Silly me.

Nicola has returned to Siracusa. Her budget was not going to last so she's gone back to earn some euro in preparation for the visit of her sister in two weeks when they want to travel the north east corner.. She may join me in Palermo to finish the odyssey.

Traveling alone has its benefits. I miss the company but would probably not had the mad Sciacca conversation if Nicky had been there to translate everything. Poor kid. I think she was getting sick of it.

I'm in Marsala and have decided to stay for a few days and explore the area from here. I have found some divine and cost effective accommodation. Things are looking good.

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