Thursday 6 June 2024
I staggered out of bed at 2am, quite surprised at the fact that I had actually managed to sleep before having to get up at stupid o'clock for a taxi at 3am to Gatwick for an 0545 flight to Catania. We picked Kim up, then our driver (who was evidently Ayrton Senna in a previous life) took us on a white-knuckle ride to the airport - I know we said we wanted to be there by 4am (and we were), but I don't enjoy having my heart in my mouth while a silent madman undertakes, flashes everyone else to get out the way in a built-up area, slows down only for speed cameras and sees approaching traffic lights as a challenge to go even faster. Kim did not tip.
A word to the wise - if your Easyjet flight is showing up as going from gate 40 something, this means that when you get to the gate you then have to get on a bus that takes you virtually to Heathrow. This has now happened to us twice, and because of this the flight comes up as boarding way way before you expect - so we were about to settle down to some coffee and breakfast before we had to shove it all back into the bag and hightail it off to 45G to get on the bus.
At least we boarded the plan straight away, and our flight was stress-free and early. No hold luggage for us for a long weekend, and I had pre-booked a taxi via booking.com as part of our accommodation package, which was £27 well spent as he was waiting for us with my name on a card and Catania airport can be a bit chaotic - whoever designed the passenger flow and the toilet facilities should be drummed out of the architects' professional body. It's also not on a Metro line (the Metro is only about 10 stops long) so a bus is the only other method of going the short distance into the city.
We're returning to Sicily for a long weekend after failing to achieve any kind of visit to Etna during our visit to Palermo and Siracusa in September 22 (and my Etna winery visit during my trip to Taormina in 2015 was marred by mists that completely covered the summit, and so much rain that we couldn't get off the bus anyway apart from to attend the very wonderful wine tasting at which Neil and I got very drunk and ordered a case to be shipped home). Specifically, this is to travel on the Circumetnea train that encircles the base of Mother Etna (as she is known around here - the old girl gives the Sicilians a bunch of minerals and spectacularly fertile volcanic soil, and when there is a lava flow, it's so slow that you can easily run away from it!). So we have a couple of missions for the weekend.
A short trip to our apartment with Ayrton Senna mark II (but this is Sicily after all!) in a street in the middle of the old town, with a view of a car park opposite (gives you something to watch when sitting on the balcony with an aperitivo), the accommodation is in an unprepossessing concrete block, but we're greeted by the non-English speaking but charming Eleonora and Silvio who have recorded the guide to their first-floor apartment on Google Translate and smilingly show us around. It's a fabulous apartment (Home 22 on booking.com ) - they've thought of everything in terms of what you need for a short stay, it's well-equipped with everything fully functioning, tastefully decorated and clean as a whistle. Absolute bargain at around 100 euros a night, and it's only 5 minutes' walk from Via Etnea with gazillions of bars and restaurants nearby - they've even printed off pages from the internet so we have details of a selection of them.
After settling in we ventured out with map in hand. There's a basic supermarket just a few doors down, and the streets round about are a bit scuzzy, but after a few minutes we emerge on to Via Etnea, which is mainly pedestrianised with some nice shops. It leads to the university square and then the Duomo, with a small tourist information office inside the museum.
We asked about the Circumetnea and get a bit of clarity, but decide we'll take some time to do a recce to Borgo a few stops on the Metro which is where the train starts. First though, we take a stroll through the fish market (no to the live snails thanks, even though they're very pretty and small) and perch on stools outside a cheese shop (a bit more fragrant) to have a light lunch in the shade along with our favoured Messina beer with crystal salt.
We found the Metro, figured out how to buy a ticket, and went down to the platform. There are only 10 stations on the line, so it doesn't take long to get to Borgo. The FCN station is right opposite the Metro entrance, and we talked to the guy on the ticket office, confirmed the right trains to get to Randazzo and back the next day, and bought our tickets.
We hopped back on the Metro to Stesecoro and took a look at the amphitheatre ruins just across the road. It's built out of lava rock, and is mainly submerged by the modern city, but it held around 15000 people watching gladiators. It doesn't appear that the public can view it closely now, just from above, and sadly it's a bit of a litter pit, hence no photo. We walked up some steps to take a stroll along Catania's Baroque street, Via Crocifero (so many churches built after the earthquake of 1693!), did a little pistachio-themed shopping in a lovely little food shop called Nelson, and ended up in Piazzo Duomo to sample our first gelato (pay an extra euro for genuine Bronte pistachio flavour - Bronte further up Etna is where the best ones come from - pistachios are big in this part of Sicily) before popping into the duomo to take a look around and light a couple of candles for mum and dad. it's quite plain on the inside - all the fancy stuff is on the outside.
We were flagging after our early start, so went back to the apartment for a lie-down and a shower, stopping off at the little supermarket for essential supplies on the way back. Naps and ablutions accomplished, we sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine and some crisps for our traditioinal aperitivo time before walking just a few minutes to the nearest nice neighbourhood restaurant on the list, Cortile Siciliana. We enjoyed arancini, pistachio-themed pasta and a nice bottle of Etna white before heading to Razmataz, a recommended nearby bar for a couple of late night cocktails - just the one each, as we had an early start the following day to catch the 0805 Circumetnea train from Catania Borgo.
Friday 8 June
Woke to cloudless blue skies, and all went according to plan with our travel arrangments for the day - easy Metro ride to Borgo (2 euros for a day pass, 1 euro for unlimited travel up to 90 minutes), and we boarded the train I've been waiting to catch for a couple of years now!
Our train terminated at Randazzo - if we'd wanted to go further on to Riposto, we would have to change, but much as I enjoyed the train I didn't want to spend the entire day on it. The train is not actually a complete circuit of Etna as you have to change on to different trains for different stages and interpreting the timetable is quite challenging, but I was so happy to have sampled this iconic railway, geek that I am.
Randazzo is a sleepy, somewhat crumbly little town built from dark lava and basalt rock. There's not a huge amount to see - lots of shutters down! We wandered the streets and looped around some of the landmarks, mainly churches. The area known as the Greek quarter is especially dark in terms of the buildings and can only assume these are the oldest. There was one church where a bell was rung solemnly on the hour, then immediately afterwards this was followed up by chaotic, arhythmic peals played by a bellringer who, if he or she were a muppet, would undoubtedly be Animal.
We found a lovely "wood and brass" cafe (with an award-winning gelato chef) opposite said church where we enjoyed coffee and pastries and bought enormous sandwiches and fruity granite to take back to the return train at 1230 - it was a boneshaker! No aircon but the windows opened wide.
Sometimes, instead of cars giving way to the train at a level crossing, it was the other way round, which meant a rather stop-go journey. We sat near the driver's cabin where he was joined by the guard who popped his head out of the door at every stop to check to see who was getting on and off before popping back into the cabin and telling his mate to "andare!"
Having arrived back at Borgo mid afternoon, we got back on the Metro and swung by the apartment to freshen up. We'd decided to take advantage of discount vouchers from our hosts which meant we could ride the open top bus for 10 euros each, always a good idea to orientate yourself around a city. We popped into a little fashion store (a purse for me, a hat for Kim) en route to the Piazza Duomo to find the bus and having bought our tickets, took our seats and the earphones for the commentary.
Well having travelled to Gatwick with the reincarnation of Ayrton Senna, we now sped around Catania with Nigel Mansell - really showing my age on the racing drivers - who apparently said some rather off things in Italian about his passengers which Kim picked up but I didn't. He drove so (dangerously) fast, the commentary had to keep skipping as we had already gone past the landmark or building being referenced. Having stopped a couple of streets away in Aci Castello from the Cyclops islands (apparently to enable a non-paying female friend to run an errand), he told us we had 5 minutes to go and take photos of the rocks (which we hightailed off to do) and then waited at least 20 further minutes before whizzing us back to the city while his friend came back from her errand - tsk.
In the meantime, a young Australian woman drew unnecessary attention to herself by lying down in the aisle in everyone's way, claiming that this was the way to reduce her too-fast heart rate as opposed to lying down on the back seat out of everyone's way. Not a great tour bus experience but there was no-one around to complain to about Nigel on our return.
We had a little wander around some shops nearby, and after our shower and aperitivo routine went out to find another recommended restaurant. We passed through a rather rundown area at dusk (with the swifts overhead going their batshit crazy swooping as usual), but then suddenly inviting little bars and restaurants started appearing, and our destination was in Via Filomena with pretty overhead illuminations. The restaurant was Il Sale Art Cafe; though there wasn't really that much art to see beyond a couple of sexy slinky mannequins with lampshades for heads. However, it was quite a cool and trendy place (but still, why no toilet seat?! Why, Italy, why?) with hipster waiters and a great menu. The food and wine were both excellent - how can I resist a grape variety called Zibibbo?! - and I think the best sea bass I've ever had, in a yellow tomato reduction, followed by an almond semifreddo which was fashioned to look like Etna.
We had intended to return to Razmataz for a nightcap but there were no free tables, so we went a little further down the street and sat out on the balcony of the Boheme mixology bar, apparently award-winning, with its mascot being a sad-looking French bulldog who mooched around the tables and plonked himself down wherever he could get cuddles. The cocktails were excellent - they don't have a list, they ask you what you like and then make something up, so Kim had a dirty martini and I had an espresso martini with coconut in the mix - both of which we would recommend.
Saturday 8 June
I'd booked the Etna/Wine tasting trip through Get Your Guide several weeks before - it was a bit pricey but we were guaranteed being picked up and dropped off and getting fed and watered as well as getting up close and personal with the great volcano.
There were only 6 of us on the minibus, which arrived around 8.30am - driven by the charming, cheery and well-travelled Maureno, he told us that he looked after an empty hotel in Richmond during covid. Our fellow passengers were a lovely Sydney mum and daughter, Louise and Melina, who were on a bit of a European adventure, and a young London couple whose names we never actually found out as they chatted to us but didn't introduce themselves - awks.
However, all did not go to plan. Maureno (who worked for a tour company called Etna Tribes) was chatting away telling us all about the geology, properties and history of Etna, when as we wound our way uphill about 3 or 4 km from our destination, he crunched the gears and the clutch gave out. Luckily we were only about 50m from a viewing point so we could get out and take in the magnificent vista safely, and there was a man with a permanent souvenir pitch so Kim and I bought our inevitable fridge magnets (though handmade from lava rock, so not our usual toot). This was not the most popular place to leave a broken minibus however, and poor Maureno was berated by passing cars and motorcyclists as he made frantic phone calls.
Nearby was this submerged house, envoloped by the lava flow of 1993 - we had not long passed a hotel which was completely surrounded by said lava before building was completed. On hearing the news, the poor owner suffered a fatal heart attack.
A solution to us being stuck halfway up Etna was found pretty quickly - the young couple got picked up by another tour (good shout on our part to say genuinely selflessly "no, you go" because we later discovered it was a tour in French!) and after a short while us four ladies were collected by Andreas, equally cheerful and charming, who had just left a group at the cable car and was where we were also destined.
Note to self - always read the small print. when booking a tour. We hadn't appreciated that we needed to pay a further 78 euros each to travel on the cable car which takes you up to about 1900m. (This wasn't helped by the slight panic ensuing after all our plastic payment cards were initially rejected.) After that you get in a bus with mahoosive wheels that takes you up a sidewinder track to about 2300m, and then you trek up and back down with a guide for about another 300m (though it feels much further!) to see the craters.
Of course you don't get to look inside the volcano(!), which is around another 700m further up and permanently steams away gently, though only about 30% of the vapour is sulphurous. However, the lunar-like landscape was amazing to feel a very tiny part of and worth the temporary ruin of my trainers and ankles stained by the grey ash, though be prepared for quite a lot of other tourists on your visit.
Back down on the big-wheeled bus and the cable car to Andreas and the rest of his small group who had patiently waited for us (apparently poor Maureno was still waiting for the tow truck), and we then took a short ride to a lava cave. En route we saw this rather wonderful sculpture.
A lava cave is made by lava flow, but of course doesn't actually contain any molten lava! It was a bit of a clamber (hard hats essential) into a very small space on some wobbly rocks, but still worth seeing.
However by this point it was way past our lunchtime and my stomach was beginning to think my throat had been cut. Back on the bus and off to Enteca at Ragalna, where they no longer make wine but just host loads of wine tastings and birthday parties (huge group of jolly Sicilian old school friends there having a great time.)
Lovely setting, but our table wasn't quite ready so we were taken into an adjacent cellar room to be shown some ancient wine pressing equipment and had various grape varieties explained by Carmelo, a very flirty and camp guide - sorry Carmelo, I don't remember anything from your super-fast delivery! We were then shown to the table for the 6 of us, and sat with empty glasses and plates for quite some time. I was getting a bit hangry but tried to make light of it, especially when there was a further lengthy gap after 6 very tiny pieces of bread and oil were delivered and my hanger was not curbed.
At last, when the food started to arrive, it just kept coming and was a lovely selection of cold cuts, olives and antipasti. We enjoyed 4 different wines - 2 white and 2 red - but (never satisfied, me) they arrived a bit too quickly though I now realise there was no necessity for me to drink the previous one as soon as the next one arrived! Slightly squiffy, we were then taken to enjoy a number of liquers in the shop, so of course we made purchases. I bet the small bottle of Limoncello I bought (because it didn't taste like lav cleaner as it sometimes does when pressed on you in Italian restaurants) probably still tasted better there than it will do here. By this time Maureno had rejoined us, but the poor man couldn't even have a drink following his being stuck halfway up Etna with a dead minibus, as he had to take us back to Catania.
He dropped Kim and I off at Giardino Bellini - we popped to Salve across the road first of all to buy a refreshing granite as it's famous for their ices, and went to sit in the gardens and have a wander. It was a bit underwhelming - not much planting, lots of areas taped off, but nice to have a greenish space in the middle of the city with a very laidback busker noodling around on his guitar as a backdrop. The afternoon drinking and heat was starting to get to us a bit - we did a little half-hearted shopping on the way back to the apartment and pretty much collapsed on our return.
Sunday 9 June
Ooh, a lie-in! Today we had arranged to meet Caroline Durant who had just arrived back in Siracusa, an hour's train trip away. We left ourselves plenty of meandering time to get to the station to meet her, and came across the beautiful Teatro Bellini in its own peaceful piazza with a rather lovely fountain. There's a lot of graffiti in Catania and most of it is tag rubbish, but occasionally something witty comes along.
Maybe by the way they hang
At the station, Caroline alighted from the train that goes across the Messina Straits on a ferry to the mainland and on to Rome. (I had caught that train to get to Taormina back in 2015 and was very excited by the whole experience!) Caroline caught the same train back to Siracusa 10 hours later that day.
We had agreed that a chilled-out day by the sea was in order. There's a lido very close to the station, but there's no beach as such, just decking, so you have to clamber down steps and over rocks to get into the water which felt too much effort, so we walked to Piazza Bellisoni to catch the Line D bus which calls in at various beach resorts along the coast road past the airport (not quite as grim as it sounds!) We had no idea where to get off, so we took a punt on Lido Europa which turned out to be a good choice with soft sand, pleasant bathing and decent food and changing facilities available. I was even able to stretch out on my lounger and listen to the Archers Omnibus (what a saddo...)
Unfortunately the bus back into Catania didn't materialise. We turned down the offer of a lift for 10 euros from a random bloke who stopped alongside the bus stop, and Kim treated us to an Uber. He dropped us off back near Teatro Bellini, so we sat in the piazza and had a final gelato before popping into a nearby gallery to look at some modern Sicilian art which was very pleasant but a bit of a rip-off for the entrance fee.
Back to the apartment to freshen up, enjoying a burst of some nearby jazz floating out of a venue en route, then we needed to find somewhere nearby to eat which can be a bit challenging on a Sunday (especially when the front of house guy in a fancy place with only a handful of occupied tables tells you they're fully booked). We settled for a return to Cortile Siciliane and enjoyed another lovely dinner before walking Caroline to the station for her train.
We returned to Boheme for a cocktail - it was much busier than on our previous visit, so we got a bit antsy as it was a while before anyone took any notice of us. Kim opted for her favourite negroni, and I was in the mood for a digestivo but the vaguely orangey concoction I was given was actually hangover-inducing - serves me right I guess. Slightly disappointing end to a lovely weekend!
Monday 10 June
Homeward bound - we were up, packed and cleaned up by 9am, and went around the corner to catch the airport bus, waiting along with all the local pensioners going about their daily errands and nattering away at the bus stop. It's a good bus, costing 4 euros each. The airport was as busy as before, and the chaos wasn't helped by a twit who left a bottle of water in her backpack (oops!) which Security picked up. Just as before when we flew from Catania, the massive queue to get through passport control means there's no time for any duty free shopping, so be warned if you do fly out from there that you need to allow much more time for retail therapy than you might expect.
Flight was boarded early but delayed by air traffic control so we sat for ages on the tarmac. Eventually we were on our way and I enjoyed my window seat view of fluffy clouds over Sardinia, Corsica and the Alps. At Gatwick it was grey, cloudy, showery and cold. Several days later, writing this during our summer that's never coming, I'm really missing those blue Sicilian skies and the Mediterranean sun. Arrivederci Sicilia!
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