Friday 17 May - we awoke to sunshine streaming through the skylight directly above us. Off for another long walk along the Sicilian coastline. Instead of a home cooked breakfast, we went to our nearest cafe, Bar Vosse, for coffee and a shared panini. While there,Michael the maître di introduced us to his friends from Perth. The husband was born in Capo D’Orlando and he and his wife spent a few months of each year back in his home town. It was lovely to chat about familiar places, if only for a little while.
Later, we had arranged to meet up with the sister of one of Michael’s friends in Albany for a coffee. Teresa Pietropaolo asked us to meet her in the town square at 10.30am. We thought we were in the town square but no sign of Teresa. Not that we knew what she looked like. Michael phoned her again. She put back the coffee to 11am and told us to meet her at the church. We hadn’t seen any church on our travels but asked someone for directions and miraculously found it. It was not quite 11 so we looked inside, took a couple of photos and then waited on a park bench nearby.
We watched people come and go, musing who Teresa might be among them, whether she had a husband in tow. Finally, a woman who had been walking around with a mobile to her ear, approached us and asked if we were Australian. Voilà Teresa! We thought we were pretty obvious, sitting there like stuffed tourists but apparently not. Anyway, we finally connected with each other which was great.
Teresa took us to a nearby café where we had our cup of coffee and chatted about her life in Capo D’Orlando. She grew up in Albany but after meeting and marrying her husband, made her home in Italy. Widowed when much younger, she chose to live near her grown up children. Teresa goes back to Albany from time to time but has put off a trip this year due to her son and his wife expecting their first baby. A very friendly woman, we enjoyed spending time with her and talking about familiar people and places. She showed us photos of her house, about five minutes away up in the hills, and her artwork, which was striking, very abstract and colourful. She also told us about an old church on top of a hill not far from where we were sitting, a bit of a climb (about a thousand steps apparently) but spectacular views of the sea and surrounding countryside. She also gave us the name of a restaurant to have dinner, La Siciliana. Eventually, after thanking her for her hospitality, we parted company and we set off up the hill to find the church.
As we wound our way around the hill and up the prolific steps, the view was indeed spectacular as Teresa had promised. About halfway up, Michael decided to stop and rest at the foot of a statue of a wayfaring traveller while I stubbornly plodded onwards and upwards. I finally made it to the top, out of breath and leg weary. After a five minute rest and a few photos of the abandoned church, I set off back down the hill. The descent was relentless and my legs buckled more than once. I realised the whole venture had been a serious lack of common sense, as Michael had tried to tell me.
Back at the apartment, I gobbled painkillers and rested on the bed. My calf muscles felt stretched out of all proportion with little chance any time soon of them retracting into shape. While I reposed, MIchael decided to move the car closer to the apartment due to our early departure in the morning. At this stage, it was about 50 metres down the road. When he left, there were two car spaces in front of the apartment. By the time he drove the car back through all the one way streets, not only had those two spaces been taken, his original spot was also gone! Eventually he found a space about 500 metres away, in a side street.
There was a food festival in town on this particular weekend, from Friday to Sunday. Before dinner, we went strolling among the street stalls, at a snail’s pace due to said painful calf muscles. We bought some balsamic vinegar, which had been maturing for 40 years, delicious to the palate.
Eventually we found our way to La Siciliana. It was a delightful little restaurant, the proprietor very friendly and welcoming. He sat us down at a table for two, gave out the menus, and then brought a bowl of delicious olives and a basket of bread to the table. After a few minutes, he pulled up a chair and sat down to take our order. He had no English but there was little problem communicating. When I asked for fish, he made me follow him to the kitchen and then opened a refrigerator containing drawer after drawer of fresh seafood. I chose the tuna steak while Michael had pasta. The house wine was served in a carafe, agreeably smooth. Once we had finished our meal and were contemplating dessert, our host appeared at the table bearing two slices of strawberry shortcake. Also in the restaurant was a group of women on a girls’ night out for a seventieth birthday celebration. The birthday girl had generously given us some of her birthday cake. It was delicious and a lovely gesture. Before we left, we went over to thank her and wish her happy birthday. A fabulous way to end our last night in Capo D’Orlando.
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