That joke will never get old. :)
My sister and I flew straight from Rome to Palermo, where we met up with our couchsurfing host, Alessio. He picked us up at the train station and took us back to his
four story beach house, where he cooked us a pasta with
his mother's homemade tomato sauce. I really thought I was dreaming.
Normally, when couchsurfing, I take what I can get. I've slept on the floor, on air mattresses, sometimes I'm lucky enough to get a bed - but never in a million years would I expect to be offered a room in a four story beach house, right on the Mediterranean. It's Alessio's family's summer home, which I find pretty amusing... why on earth would a family living in Palermo need a summer home? They live in a coastal city on an island in the Mediterranean... their summer home is only a 15 minute drive from their winter home! It's a hard life, but somehow they manage.
Almost immediately after our delicious home cooked meal, we went out for a delicious restaurant meal. That's just how they do things in Sicily. We went to a cafe known for its traditional Sicilian dish,
pane con la milza. It consists of a large bun, cut open and spread with lard, filled with lots of
milza (mystery meat, at the time) and a strong, somewhat stinky cheese called
caciocavallo. It actually looked delicious, so I was excited to try it. I tried a bite and was disgusted at the flavor of the meat - it not taste like anything I'd consider edible. As it turns out,
milza is spleen. That explains a lot.
***
GROSS-OUT ALERT: Don't read this unless you really, really want to be grossed out. My sister was especially disgusted by the smell of the milza... she said that the only thing she could compare it to was the way the room smelled after her friend's dog had puppies. Basically, we were eating something that smelled like canine afterbirth. Awesome. She also told me this
while I was chewing. Really awesome. ***
If you read that and are absolutely repulsed, don't blame me. I warned you.
Luckily, I was able to get rid of the spleeny aftertaste by eating a delicious Sicilian dessert called
cannoli. It's a flaky pastry shell stuffed with a sweet ricotta filling - mmm. Delicious, and does not contain a single organ!
We met a lot of Alessio's friends, including Davide (a fellow couch-surfer who also organizes parties and events for foreign students in Palermo) and Katherine (an American who moved to Palermo the same day that we arrived, vegetarian, did not partake of the spleen). We spent pretty much the entire week with them, and didn't sleep nearly as much as we should have. One night we returned home at after 6:00AM, just in time to watch the sun rise over the sea. Sicilians definitely know how to party.
On Thursday, we visited the Capuchin catacombs in Palermo. I had read about them in my guidebook and they seemed like an interesting sight... I didn't realize that it would feel like we were walking straight into a horror movie. In the 16th century, the friars of the Capuchin order in Palermo decided that when they died, they wanted to be embalmed rather than buried. So, they created the catacombs in order to store the corpses. Then, since all the friars were doing it, other people decided that
they wanted to be embalmed, too. Being embalmed and placed in the catacombs became a symbol of wealth, so many people wrote specifically in their wills that this is what they wanted done with their remains. This was a popular request from the end of the 16th century all the way through until the 1920's. Now, these catacombs are filled with 8000 corpses, all remarkably preserved. Some are lying in coffins and others are hanging from the walls. It's absolutely terrifying.
I felt strange about the idea of taking photos in the catacombs but here's a picture I found on Google to give you an idea of what it's like. It was definitely an interesting experience, and not like anything I've ever seen before... but I'm never, ever going back there.
On Friday, we had a slight less intense day. Alessio and Davide took us to a nearby fishing village called Cefalù. It was a beautiful sunny day, so we spent the first few hours lying around on the beach, playing guitar and singing. It was nice to relax after a crazy night trying to keep up with the Sicilians...
We got a delicious pizza (can't get enough) and then walked around the village. It was a gorgeous town, filled with tiny, winding streets which all somehow led to the beach. The people were incredibly friendly, too - my sister and I went into a bar to get a few bottles of water and after a long conversation with the owners, they gave us each a glass of dessert wine made with almonds.... mmmm!
We explored for a little while and then climbed up a hill where we watched the sunset over the incredible views of Sicily and the Mediterranean. We also took artsy pictures, because what else would we do on a hilltop overlooking the Mediterranean?
On Saturday, we stayed in Palermo and explored the city. No corpses this time, just beautiful cathedrals, theaters, beaches and parks. It's a gorgeous city - here's a picture of the view from Katherine's apartment.
For dinner, Alessio suggested a fancy trattoria in Vucciria (Palermo's fish market district) but there was a one hour wait, so we hungrily vetoed and found the next best thing. Located in a dirty back alley of Vucciria, overlooking a crowded piazza where street vendors argued loudly with customers, we found what was possibly the shadiest restaurant that I have ever seen. Since you probably wouldn't believe me if I described it to you, I'll show pictures.
Aren't the cardboard signs classy? The restaurant is called Shanghai, but not because it serves any type of Asian food. The name is strangely fitting though, because sitting on the balcony overlooking the dirty back alleys of Vucciria feels like being in some movie set in the Far East.
As we walked into the restaurant, I thought for a split second that we'd wandered into somebody's home, until I saw the trays of antipasti set out on a side table. The mother, daughter and grandmother were working in the kitchen while the rest of the family gathered around a small television watching
Home Alone. Nope, not kidding.
As we were looking at the menu, the waitress (the mother, I believe) came out to take our orders. She first proceeded to tell us what they actually had that evening, and when Alessio asked why they didn't have shrimp, she angrily explained that they can't be expected to have every fresh seafood item on the menu
every day. She said that if he wanted shrimp, he could come back on Monday and they might have it.
I love this place.
We ordered every appetizer that they had, including Eggplant Parmigiana (nothing like the kind I'm used to), white anchovies, sardines, mixed seafood platters, grilled peppers, olives, bread, salami and cheese. Mmm. Then, we each got a first course of pasta and a second course of fish. I especially liked the swordfish but the squid was amazing - it rivaled the squid that I (or rather, Susan's dad) paid a ridiculous amount of money for in Barcelona. Top that off with all the wine we could drink, and we were up to a whopping 15 euro per person. Not a single item cost more than 4 euro, not even the incredible squid.
People definitely don't go to Shanghai for the environment! I personally loved it but only because it added to the experience of a great meal. If the food had tasted bad, it would just be a dirty restaurant in the back streets of Palermo. Since the food was incredible, it was more of a "cultural experience."
That night, we went out dancing at a club for foreign students (Erasmus kids are always the most fun) and then went to an outdoor reggae concert in Vucciria. Near the piazza where everyone was dancing, there was a street vendor selling some sort of grilled meat, and dozens people lined up waiting for their portion. I asked what it was and our Sicilians companions insisted that I try this "delicious" traditional Sicilian specialty that they called
Stigghiole. Basically (to my horror) they take the membrane from the small intestine of an animal, usually lamb but sometimes pork or chicken, and they wrap it around strips of skewered heart and scallions. The heart is also "preferably" lamb, but I'm not sure these Vucciria street vendors were really playing by the rules. My Italian friend explained excitedly that there were probably several different organs of several different animals wrapped up in the intestine. Oh, delicious. Why exactly is there a line down the street for this stuff?
I told myself that this year, I promised myself that I'd try everything... but at the sight of the Stigghiole, I seriously considered going back on that promise. After saying a quick prayer to the Gods of food poisoning, asking them to spare me, I closed my eyes and took a bite. The taste actually wasn't bad. It definitely wasn't as bad as spleen, and was actually quite flavorful. The texture, though... oh, the texture was awful. How did this food manage to be crunchy, grainy, slimy, chewy and rubbery all at the same time? I don't want to know, actually.
On Sunday, we threw a barbeque at Alessio's house and invited the friends that we had met over the past few days. It was possibly the best barbeque I've ever been to - all kinds of grilled meats and veggies, salad, macedonia (fruit salad), lots of wine, followed by an attempt by the Americans at teaching the Italians how to play "spoons".
This American card game has always been one of my favorites, and my sister and I have been playing it since we were little. The rules are fairly simple and involve quickly passing cards from player to player, each person trying to collect four cards of the same value - when a person succeeds at this, they take a spoon from the middle of the table. As soon as one spoon is taken, the rest of the spoons are fair game and the other players can take one as well. There is always one less spoon than the amount of people playing so at the end of the game, one person is left without a spoon. When Ave and I were younger, this person was simply the loser, but now that we're older, the loser has to finish their drink.
Needless to say, it got a little crazy. Alessio seemed to be losing every round and, as a result, was becoming more and more intoxicated - after about a half an hour of him losing every single round, we finally realized that he didn't understand the rules. At this realization, he experienced what I like to call a "spoons breakdown" and started yelling in Italian and what he thought was English, telling us all to "go to the ass" for letting him lose for so long.
In another round, my sister and Davide fought over the last spoon and my sister ended up accidentally hitting Davide in the face with it. He said "Oh no! You gave me a punch!" and realized that his lip was actually bleeding. This is the only time that I have ever seen blood shed in a game of spoons, but I guess Sicilians are just more competitive than Americans. It was just a small cut, but it was so funny that Davide didn't seem to mind.
It was a great night, but we went to bed pretty early because we were planning a trip to Agrigento in the morning. Agrigento is a city on the southern coast of Sicily, famous for the "Valley of the Temples." It's not actually a valley as its name may suggest, but a ridge, containing seven Greek temples built in the 5th and 6th centuries B.C. Second only to the temples in Athens, they're the best-preserved Greek temples in the world. I felt like I had walked right out of Italy into ancient Greece.
Sicily actually has a lot of locations with this transporting effect, because throughout history, it has been taken over and controlled by the Greeks, Normans, Arabs, Spanish, and finally Italians. All of these cultures have left their traces on the island, which creates a very unique Sicilian culture of its own. I'm not sure which of the armies brought Stigghiole... I suppose I can forgive them, just because they brought so many other things. I think beautiful temples make up for the intestine-wrapped organs - or at the very least, it's a start.
It was very surreal walking along the ridge (with an incredible panoramic view of the sea, city and countryside) through these ancient temples. You may remember my crazy princess fantasies inspired by Granada's Al Hambra - these were quickly replaced by toga fantasties, eating grapes on a chaise lounge and riding in chariots. What else would I do? My sister tried to be as greek as possible in front of the Temple of Juno, while I just tried to be as tall as possible next to my two travel companions.
On our last night in Sicily, we had the best pizza I've ever had in my life. It was huge, first of all, unreasonably large for one person. Of course, this didn't stop me and I finished every bite - tomato, mozzarella di bufala, pesto, sundried tomatoes and tasty grilled mushrooms. It was perfect. It was at a relatively famous pizzeria so we paid more than we usually would for pizza, but it was so worth it. We barely said two words to each other at the table, everyone was too busy eating!
The next morning we decided to take one last day trip before our evening flight. We decided to go to Monreale, which is a small town south of Palermo famous for its mosaics. I was amazed at the inside of the cathedral - all of the walls were covered in mosaics depicting bible stories. Everything was there, the story of creation, Noah's arc, the crucifixion - all illustrated through colorful mosaics.
We saw a very young girl in a stroller looking at the mosaics and she understood what was going on! She was pointing at the pictures of Noah's arc and telling the story to her parents. The whole point of creating these beautiful mosaics was to find a universal way of telling these stories, and it obviously worked.
Michele, the Italian who was showing us around Monreale, said that he still remembers the first time he went into the cathedral when he was younger. He said he was almost moved to tears -
almost but not quite because he's a big tough Italian man! Since he appreciated it so much, he was the perfect tour guide and we spent hours wandering around the cathedral and its beautiful courtyard.
By the time we got to the airport that evening, we were exhausted and absolutely ready to come home to Bologna, but I can't wait to go back to Sicily. We didn't make it to the east coast of the island at all and I've heard that the cities on that coast are incredible.
Oh, one last note about food (because I'm obsessed, it's a disease): Of all the foods that we ate in Sicily, my favorite was a 1 euro lunch called
arancine. I have a friend here in Bologna who made them for me once, but the one I ate in Sicily was amazing. It's a traditional "fast food" consisting of a deep-fried rice ball stuffed with delicious filling, sometimes ragu (meat sauce), sometimes tomato and mozzarella, and sometimes ham and cheese. They're usually about the size of a softball and sooo filling. I'm actually addicted - my sister and I wanted to eat them for our last meal in Sicily but we were running late and almost missed our flight, sothere was no extra time for arancine. If not for the beautiful eastern cities, I absolutely have to return for more of that deep-fried ricey goodness.
(Yes, those are banana slices with peanut butter on tooth picks. We're so clever...)
Of course, we took advantage of the bad weather - how, you ask? Godfather marathon, baby! Three days. Three movies. Three incredible actors who were just meant to play mob bosses. Seriously - Marlon Brando, Al Pacino and Robert De Niro? It was almost too much badass to handle. They speak Italian (and, more specifically, Sicilian) which was cool since I can understand what they're saying now.
After the concert we went to a party, hung out with Andrea and his friends, then headed back to Andrea's place for the night. Or at least, I thought we were headed back to Andrea's place for the night. Instead, we went to an abandoned Tuscan villa in the middle of the countryside! I should probably specify that by "abandoned" I mean that the owners got "too old" (Andrea's words, not mine) to live there and just left, leaving the house to a historical organization which has been maintaining the property ever since. Since Andrea's grandfather is a part of that organization, Andrea has been watching the house. Once again, I should probably specify that by "watching" I mean letting all of his friends and roommates sleep there! :)
The house was huge, with stone staircases and so many bedrooms that I actually lost count as I was exploring. At one point I opened a door expecting to find bedroom #12 or bathroom #5 or something, but was amazed to find myself in a tiny chapel complete with a bell-tower. I'm assuming a priest lived there or something - all Andrea told me was that the guy was somehow affiliated with the Vatican. It was beautiful, but also incredibly eerie. Like the rest of the house, the chapel was filled with dust and there was an a bible still lying on the podium.
We were only in the house for a few hours, since we got there so late at night and had to go back to Bologna in the morning, but hey, not many people can say that they spent the night in an abandoned (and most likely haunted) Tuscan villa!
On the train ride home, as we passed through dozens of teeny little Tuscan villages nestled away in the hills, I daydreamed about living in my own Tuscan villa someday. No ghosts, though. Sort of like "Under the Tuscan Sun" but not as mind-numbingly cheesy.
