Castellammare and Trapani with a taste of Marsala

Much as we didn't want to, we had to leave Palermo and move on to our next stop, Castellammare del Golfo. At this time of the year it is a sleepy place and not a single umbrella is to be seen on the long white beach. This felt more like the level of activity we had become accustomed to and we spent a very relaxing couple of days here. One hour of which was spent at the top of the mast sorting out a wiring issue and releasing the spare halyard which had become stuck. This is an activity usually reserved for someone much lighter than me, but given that Catherine would rather be in control of the winch (and my fate) than be 20 meters up in the air on a rocking piece of aluminium, it fell to me to pretend I was fearless. I do quite a good impression - on the outside.

Arrival view of Castellammare	Co-skipper's reading room
A shrine to plasterers	Restaurants a plenty

As the timetable to get to Ragusa started to catch up with us we left two days later for Trapani, a town neither of us had heard of, but which we discovered to be a charming place. In this instance though safe refuge was probably the main quality we shall remember it by. We had seen bad weather forecast and since we knew it was the kind where you can't even leave the boat, we took the opportunity to visit Marsala by car before things got windy. After working out the pedals and mirrors and indicator thingies we set off  - I haven't driven a car in months. Of course we went Marsala tasting too and some preconceived notions of the wine being a sickly sweet cooking tipple for chicken were soon dispelled when we tasted an ancient blend made according to the Soleras method. A word of advice, "Fine Marsala" is the lowest quality and is to be avoided.

Marsala

5000 litre barrels of Marsala

We made our way back to Trapani and the marina in the evening and found that the Ormeggiatore had moved our boat from the external SE facing pontoon to an inner NW facing one to make room for a 66ft Oyster. This turned out to be very fortuitous as early the next morning, exactly as predicted, the low pressure system kicked in and the Scirocco started blowing with a vengeance. Well, actually it started with what we later thought was quite a gentle 35 knots, as in the afternoon it was gusting past 50 knots and making life for the Oyster and his neighbours on the outer pontoon very bumpy. So much so, in fact, that the pontoon snapped in half. the Ormeggiatori were amazing and were able to secure everyone, despite some boats breaking cleats as well as multiple mooring lines. I had switched off the instruments but the chap opposite told me he had measured 60.5 knots. In the morning it all seemed to have returned to relative calm. I looked at the reading and it was only 30 knots... there is a palpable sense the season is drawing to a close.

Broken Pontoon

Christian fixing in the morning

Bumpy for some

Since the sea takes a day or more to settle down after this kind of wind, we took the opportunity to visit Erice, which is not far away. The village is perched on a hilltop 750 metres above sea level and on a clear day you can see Tunisia. This was not a clear day though and we could barely see to the bottom of the hill. We managed to dodge most of the tourists and spent a couple of hours there before returning to the marina and preparing for our sail the next morning. As it turned out a number of us were leaving very early in the morning, some for Sardinia, some for Malta and one for Gibraltar so we gathered at the marina cafe and had a few beers before getting an early night.

Trapani polished	..yet to be polished,
playful,	..life's a beach.

ERICE

A morning in Palermo

Serpotta Ceiling in Palermo

Today instead of our staple Muesli we went in search of, and I kid you not, ice cream filled brioche for breakfast. It took us a while to find, what with all the distractions along the way, but we finally got there and enjoyed this incongruous but delicious treat at lunchtime.
But let me start at the beginning. After sticking my nose in a couple of chandlers we got waylaid by a nautical bookshop, which leaped out at us and held us captive for more minutes and Euros than we had planned. All in all, a nice divertimento. Our dog-eared analogue map, still refused to reveal the location of a famous purveyor of the above mentioned indulgence though and despite some significant recent experience in navigation we realised we had to ask someone. So we headed toward where there seemed to be some commotion going on. As we rounded the corner we came across a large crowd of people standing silently in the street and on the steps of the church opposite. It was clearly not the moment to ask any of the bystanders what was going on. This was, and is, mafia territory and curiosity killing the cat is no longer just a funny cliché. Anyway, our interest piqued, we stood there for a while and realised that the many young adults wearing white t-shirts with a girl’s face printed on them signalled that this was a sombre and sad occasion. Some minutes later, accompanied by applause and large bunches of white balloons a white coffin was carried out of the church doors on the shoulders of six young men.

Funeral in Palermo	Mourning fireworks
Anti Mafia Tour	Businesses against racketeering

As the amplified sound of Ave Maria sung on the steps, to the accompanying release of balloons and white doves into the clear blue autumn sky began, all eyes for a centro storico block welled up. Some barely audible words about the young person’s life drew repeated peals of applause until there was total silence in the proceedings. This was then broken by a series of deafening firework rockets being shot into the air as if to catch the fast disappearing balloons. As the cortege moved on we, and the other bystanders, caught our breath and tried to remember what had brought us here in the first place. Finding the restaurant was not really a priority anymore but nevertheless we enquired where it was and at the same time gently asked about the funeral. An ‘18 year old girl’ was all we heard. As the by now small crowd dissipated with lumps in throats still evident, we walked silently in the direction of familiar streets.

Oratory Courtyard

Oratorio di Santa Cita

Not a hundred yards up the cobbled alley we passed a very trendy looking tourist information point and looked in to ask about the puppet theatre we were thinking of going to later. The tiny shop, it turns out, is home to an independent business that offers both tourist information and a brokerage for services like: vintage Vespa hire, personalised cooking courses, baby equipment rental, and more. The one that caught my eye was the “Anti Mafia Day Tour”. ‘Is that really a thing these days?’ was soon set straight by a swift history lesson by Martha, the manager. The tour is run under the auspices of Addiopizzo which grew out of a civil rebellion that boldly rejected the protection rackets and the pizzo – protection money. Their orange X logo on shop and restaurant doors signifies this defiant stance. Strength in numbers has meant that as an association they are growing and Sicilians proudly support these establishments. Ultimately the mafia prefers to operate where there is less hassle and since the Addiopizzo movement bravely and diligently reports every transgression to the police they live in relative peace and quiet. It works in part of course because others still kowtow and pay the pizzo.

More puppets than Westminster

Barbiere di Sevilla

Musical strings

The history is fascinating and complex, but she explained, while it is still current, it is not like the dark days of the 1980s. ‘Those guys don’t go around the streets shooting at each other anymore, they sit in the Parliament now’. Her own brush with the local Don sounds like folklore she admits, but just ten years ago while moving into a local apartment she was summoned and ‘interviewed’ to see if she posed some threat or other to his business plan. It may sound scary, but the other side of it is that if people have a problem they don’t go to the city council. The local mafia sorts it out. This can even be for such mundane things as garbage that hasn’t been collected. Mundane, but pervasive based on my observation.

Street food

One portion?

Chestnuts

These areas are gradually being re-gentrified and as this happens million Euro apartments are to be seen in their former glory right next to ones where families with no money and living in squalor steal electricity from the grid with jumper cables. This stark contrast is part of the grit and charm of Palermo though and tolerance and coexistence is woven into the fabric of the society here.

Frida Khalo Pizza

Ice Cream Brioche

Our discussion was interrupted by a Kiwi chap wishing to print a boarding pass so we said our goodbyes and continued our fast disappearing morning. Just a few blocks further on we found a great little Cioccolateria that served brioche with ice cream for breakfast – at mid-day. It seems a little trivial to go into the details of this offering now, but it is delicious with Nocciola and Pistacchio and worth a detour to find. As we paid for the cappuccini and brioche we realised it must be lunchtime already.

The neglected	awaiting restoration
the cared for	the opera house

Not much further away is a restaurant that serves typical street food either take-away or table service and which had been totally full the evening before so we thought we might see if we could get a seat. We did, right next to Tommy – the boarding-pass-printing-Kiwi from the tourist office. Tommy, it turns out, is a restaurateur in Wellington and owns a chain of Pizzerias. He is about to open a pasta place and was on a foodie ‘research’ trip (I know the kind). We spoke about pizza dough hydration levels and bulk fermentation periods while eating delicious street food and drinking crisp Sicilian white at one of the oldest restaurants in Palermo, Antica Focacceria San Francesco, a founding member of the Addiopizzo movement. I glanced at my watch, it wasn’t even 2pm.

Leaving Mount Pellegrino behind for Castellammare

Santa Marina Salina, Cefalù, Palermo

Cefalù seen from La Rocca

We spent a very pleasant few days at anchor on Vulcano, well, aside from one night when the equation of 30 or so yachts all trying to calculate the optimal swing distance in a small bay didn't quite work out as a sudden squall hit us.  The island is almost tropical and has that same run down feel that buildings in the tropics get when exposed to too much humidity.  The pilot book is less kind though and scoffs about the kind of tourist who comes here for the thermal mud baths. Our vantage point in the bay meant we could not see them anyway. Come to think of it was that the smell of sulphur or, oh, never mind.  Some of our time was spent doing the planning for the last leg of the sail this season, which either meant sailing to Palermo and around Sicily anti-clockwise, or retracing our steps and heading back down the Straits of Messina. Given that we are used to long passages now and wishing to make the most of our last weeks, we decided on the Palermo route. This meant that Salina then the most westerly islands were our next stops.

Peak hour traffic on Salina	Even past residents get a great view
I think Pirates were following us	The industrial centre

The capital, Santa Marina di Salina is a small village, but could survive equally well in the bohemian quarter of any large world city.  The harbour is a well manicured, lava rock construction with good amenities and great shelter. As such they rather exploit the monopoly they have and charge eye-watering amounts for the mooring. I was just looking back at my log book and was reminded how I tried to bargain down the price of a second night in Galixidi. Unsuccessfully I am happy to say, as Salina was tenfold the price plus a bit, and Galixidi is certainly more in need of the revenue.  Nevertheless we stayed two nights and enjoyed a really good meal at a place on the hill that was a recommendation by Gino and Nadine. It was very civilised and felt like we were on holiday.

The Old Man and the Sea - and no fish.

Filicudi was the last of the Aeolian islands we visited. Well, not really visited as we ended up arriving in the late afternoon, attaching ourselves to a buoy and getting an early night for a long sail in the morning. I woke up before dawn and set off while Catherine was still sleeping so we could make more of the daylight when we got to our destination. Cefalù is on the northern Sicilian coast not that far east from Palermo. It is a very popular destination on Sicily, but starting to wind down as the holiday-makers have mostly left. Its colourful history, being occupied variously by Greeks, Normans, Ottomans and now northern europeans has not done much for the selection of fridge magnets on display, but maybe I am just fussy.

Autumnal calm	Terrible marina in a great setting
Evidence of Normans	Walking into town from the marina

After two days and nights in the very exposed and roly harbour it was time to find a more sheltered place. The marina is really awful, but someone there obviously has a sense of humour as the WiFi password is 'thebestmarina' - seriously. Palermo was only 7 hours away and we had a very  pleasant and brisk sail.  As a side-note I can verify that there are absolutely no fish whatsoever between Cefalù
and Palermo, so anyone reading this, wishing to invest time and hope into catching anything along the way is better off reading a book.

Adding colour	Oasis in the chaos
Reality	Bygone glory

Palermo is a gritty, grimy yet delightfully colourful place. You are never more than a few yards away from some facade that is either of huge historical importance or about to fall down, or both.  Of course the clichés about the mafia persist, but that is quite a boring topic given the many more interesting things there are to see. It is a place with its own scars, but unscathed by the presence of the likes of Starbucks, et al. Why would you think of going near a chain for a coffee, when a great espresso costs 90 Cents? Why also would you go to a supermarket chain when the food markets in the bustling alleys offer the freshest, ripest produce for silly low prices? Even the pickpocket threat is exaggerated or maybe we, I mean me of course, look too much like country yokels now and they just move on to clean-shaven tourists (I mean the men of course) with their designer T-shirts and bright sneakers.

Puppet maker

Milliner

Beer drinker

As the last leg of our journey for this season is only just over 200 nautical miles and we have a good two weeks to complete it, we decided to stay on in Palermo for a bit longer and enjoy being in a city again. Who knows, I might even get a haircut.