Sicily and Mount Etna

After the fish soup debacle at Novocento Restaurant, Mark banned me from making future decisions on where to eat. Fine by me, I said. On following morning, we were blessed with blue skies and clearer roads. After canvasing the opposite side of Mount Etna on previous day, we were determined and more confident we could get there. Our first attempt was up the east side again, which is considered the most beautiful with pitch black rock lava against the snow, and canopies of trees that still held onto the vestiges of autumn. Icy conditions forced us to bail about 3km from the base of the volcano. Our rental car just couldn't do it, and the crap chains we had to rent with it snapped the moment Mark put them on. Discretion was the better part of valor so we attempted the southwest side and ascended easily to the base. 

We paid two million dollars (120 Euro for four people) for a gondola ride up. Many people freely hike from the bottom, but we didn't have an extra 4 hours to do so. Our hike began 3/4 of the way to the top, and it still took us about 2 frigid hours to make progress. Margo led the entire way, speeding up the mountain, leaving me to "tie up loose ends in the rear" re: gasping for air and lamenting my lack of endurance. The trail was nothing but a steep climb of crumbly lava rock and snow. Halfway up, what we thought was a cyclone of swirling snow ended up being volcanic air vent blowing out sulphur steam and heating up our boots. Further up, we hiked around extinct volcanic cones with the kids recalling anecdotes of watermelons getting tossed into active volcanoes and evaporating into thin air. (Mark had introduced them to the Bad Science podcast, which discusses the scientific accuracy of movies. They were obsessed and have been listening to it since).

Cold weather finally beat us into submission, so we rode the gondola back down and hopped into the car to drive the entire circumference of Mount Etna. This included a necessary lunch stop in a town called Bronte. Our travel book had little information on the town, which was very unfortunate. While it was still a snug, 1.5 lane one-way town with tons of people, there was a lot more we would have enjoyed to see, especially in terms of pistachio farming. Forced to make a rash decision on lunch, I chose another Trip Advisor recommendation: Pepe Rosa. With handmade pasta and Sicilian craft beer, my reputation was somewhat recovered and we ate like kings. 

The western and northern side of Mount Etna is lesser travelled, but no less marvelous. In fact, it was what Mark and I both thought the entirety of Sicily would look like: terraced farms selling citrus, wine, and strawberries; rolling green hills spotted with tiny villages, and distant northern mountains which on the other side led to the sea. The pace was slower up here, greener, and sweeter. It was also where all the kick-ass wineries are. I took advantage and booked us a lunch reservation at the Gambino Vini Winery the next day. For 30 Euros a person, we ate and drank 100% locally grown products until there was no room left. We walked away fat, happy, and with a few extra bottles to take home (Petto Dragone, an aromatic red wine made from the Nerello Mascalese grape. They are exclusively grown on Mount Etna.) They aren't the South African prices we enjoy paying in Namibia, but after drinking hangover heavy butcher wine, we were more than prepared to pay for higher quality. We adored everything about that place, including our sommelier, Hanna from Poland. She was just right kind of awesome.

Only a couple of days left, so the following morning, we took off to Noto in the southeastern region in search of three things: gelato, craft beer, and an abandoned city. We got two out of three. Cafe Costanzo reportedly has best (and weird) gelato in Italy. David confirmed this when he first ordered gelato containing spring onion, and was convinced to try the cinnamon-almond instead. The original Noto was abandoned in 1693 after an earthquake hit it. We were free to roam the castle which was built high on a hill, and without much in the way of fences or supervision. In fact we were the only ones there save two farm dogs. I thought Noto was lame and lacking in vitality. Mark however loved it.

The craft beer visit was not as lucrative. At Pepe Rosa, Mark and I found a saison made by Yblon. Their FB and website seemed to indicate easy location and visitation, but all for naught. We couldn't find the damn place among the rows of industrial warehouses. We drove back beer-less, but made up for it by drinking Chimay at a fabulous pizzeria (Al Pino) in our neighborhood.  

Before we knew it, the trip was nearly over one day left to be spent in Catania, an historic port city on the east coast. David most looked forward to walking through the famous fish market, which we did in repeating loops, watching vendors scream and sell some of the most beautiful Mediterranean fish. Most of the crustaceans and squids were still alive, and the millions dead fish eyes stared back in wonder. We weren't the only ones enjoying the spectacle. In fact, locals love hanging out here. Rows of old Sicilian men clad in black wool and grey hats stood above the market, watching over the rails. 

Once the busyness died down, we explored the rest Catania and shopped at Siculamente, a hipster's dream come true. Their designs contain famous Sicilian colloquialisms, some of it pithy, some with extreme levels of innuendo. Mark bought a bicycle hoodie that translates to "you bought it, now ride it." That sort of thing. Despite a few other fun t-shirt finds, Mark wasn't really feeling the Catania vibe, whereas I liked it better than Noto. Even with seeing a naughty young couple doing it in the middle of the park. And now I can't unsee it. 

We packed in a few more miles of walking the streets, taking in souvenir shops, huge churches, and  countless statues as sort of a last minute prep for our 10 hour layover in Rome the following day. 

Break dancing in front of Noto's Duomo.

Trekking to the crest.

Finished.

Mount Etna

Le Pescheria