Exploring Palermo

Alarm went off at 8am. I was tired but got out of bed at 8.30 a.m. Got dressed conservatively, went to reception for breakfast. They didn’t have change for my €20, so they did an IOU. The little old man took me upstairs and tried to tell me something – I think it was when breakfast ended, as he said ‘alle’. I ate cake, cereal, coffee and yoghurt, then came back downstairs, got ready and went out.

I bought some bus tickets from the tabacchi, and walked up Vittorio Emmanuele to the cathedral, which was very clean and white from the outside. It was nice inside, but certainly not spectacular. Then I went on, through an interesting garden, to Piazza Indipenza to find the Cappuccine Catacombes. There were food stalls and rides there, and confusing signs pointing to the catacombes. After a wrong turn up a not particularly salubrious street, I found it eventually, following some other tourists. It was €1.50 to get in, and you unfortunately weren’t allowed to take photos, which I guess was a fairly respectful thing to do for the dead. It was quite small, but the corridors of skeletons just seemed to go on forever. They were all clothed, and often there were family groups, and small children and babies in cots. I wasn’t sure how I’d react, and I certainly wasn’t disgusted or freaked out, but after a while I found it just spooky and I thought I’d probably die if one of them moved. The worst ones were the ones that still had skin and hair, and the ones that had facial expressions that suggested that they’d died in great pain. I was ready to leave by the time I’d seen them all. I had a quick look in the church next door, then walked back to Piazza Indipenza to catch the 389 to Monreale.

I found the bus stop, waited for a while, trying to get used to the traffic directions, and got on with all the other tourists. The bus was absolutely packed solid; I felt exactly like a sardine. And it took ages in heavy traffic. The bus got there eventually, via steep switchbacks at the end, and I got off outside a cafe where it stopped. I had a quick wander in the village, walking through an archway into an interesting looking square. A little old man tried to talk to me, saying ‘bella’. I think he was asking me whether I was cold, so I shook my head and said no. He kept speaking to me, so I told him that I didn’t speak Italian. I went to move off, but another man called out to me in English, saying that the little old man didn’t speak English. We were at a stalemate. I tried to move away as politely as I could.

I went into the cathedral. The mosaics were very nice and shimmering, but they weren’t as glorious as they’d been made out to be. I walked around it slowly, taking photos, and was just about to sit down and absorb it all for a while, when someone announced that it was closing. Everyone left, and I went into a cafe to buy a very yummy arancina and some water, sitting to eat it next to the fountain, and then some very good gelato (chocolate and amarena). I walked around some more to look at the view back to Palermo (which was amazing), and past the cathedral out to the east, and then went to wait for the bus, which seemed to take a very long time. While I was waiting, I became aware of a conversation taking place next to me between another little old man and two younger women. They were talking about music and opera, and I somehow picked up that the man had played the clarinet at some point. All three of them started humming different operas that I recognised but couldn’t name. Then all three broke into Bolero. It was lovely.

The bus arrived eventually, and again took ages to get back into the city. I got off at Piazza Indipenza, and walked back down Vittorio Emmanuele. I tried again unsuccessfully to get cash, so had to resort to using my Perm card. Going back up to the hotel, I dropped off the cash, got changed into my swimmers, paid the nice English-speaking man at reception for four breakfasts, and went back out.

I walked down Via Marqueda, past Teatro Massimo, which is huge and stunning, to Politeama Square, which houses the Politeama Theatre, which is also amazing. I caught the 833 bus to Mondello, and it hugged the coast side of Monte Pellegrino, which was quite spectacular. I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going, but got off at the free beach at the end of what I was sure was Mondello. I walked on the sand for a while, enjoying the sun and the view, then some American guys walking along decided to strip down to their underwear and get in the water. So I took advantage of the situation and left my bag with the local guy who was with them (who chose not to swim) and went in myself. The water was gloriously warm, and the situation just beautiful. I got out, thanked the Italian guy, and he and the American guys left. I sat on the beach for a while, listening to a man nearby gently strumming a guitar. It got late, and so I packed up to go.

I went back to the road to catch the bus back, but quickly realised that it was a one-way system, and that all the buses were heading further into Mondello rather than back to Palermo. Two buses went past before I realised that they were still marked Politeama. So after waiting 45 minutes, I flagged down the next one, asking if he was going to Politeama. He nodded. I got on, and the bus went through the rest of Mondello, which I hadn’t seen. It looked very nice, with market stalls and things. Some noisy teenagers got on, and made the journey back to Palermo quite uncomfortable. It was dark when the bus got back to Politeama. I walked along Via della Liberta until I found some cheap pizza to eat, the continued up Via della Liberta until it turned back into Via Marqueda, and turned left into Vittorio Emmanuele to find a supermarket. I bought €11 of food before they kicked me out so they could close. Like in Vienna, I didn’t realise I had to weigh my vegetables and put a sticker on them before I got to the checkout. A man packing my bag for me offered me the chance to stay with him to save money. I politely declined and ran away.

I walked back to the hotel (I think Melinda was there), and ate olives, mozzarella, bread and drank limoncello. I heard the trombone solo from Sweet Home Chicago thumping out of someone’s car window on their way past through the ambient noise of the city. Bed at 9.30.