A wee tipple then high on a hill in Agrigento8 Jun 2012
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| We have been moving quickly so few posts of late but now we are in Syracusa and settled here for four whole days - bliss. I am having a veg out and washing (ie visit lavenderia) morning and Mr Dynamo is off to the archaeological museum and hopefully to book us tickets to see the Bacchae in the Greek theatre here (in Italian but J knows the play intimately and I know the story). We stayed two nights at Marsala. John has reported on our visit to Selinunte and Marsala Del Vallo while there. Marsala itself is a pretty dead sort of a town. Looks okay in the old area but just didn't seem to have much life about it. We stayed in a hotel in a converted old convent which had the lovely feature of large walled garden with canary island palm, pots of roses surrounded by geraniums and chairs and tables set out on a lush green lawn. Very pleasant in the evenings. I don't know why the geraniums grow so well here. What do they do to them? Ours always end up looking so dried up and leggy. Here they are fleshy and bushy and flower profusely. While in Marsala we did sample the local brew. I had read in my book about Sicilian food/history/culture (mainly food) that there were some wine makers here trying to resurrect the reputation of the local product by producing quality brews. An enoteca in the main drag (down which Garibaldi and his troops first entered Sicily) was our tasting place where a pushy young woman sorted us out. I quite liked the dry 'fine vergine' I think it was, that we tasted along with some very pleasant nibbles on bread. Quite like a complex sherry but with a mild Marsala after taste. It was made by the wine maker the writer of my book had visited so I was quite pleased with that little bit of serendipity - his name was someone Buffo. J did not like it at all. Our next stop was Agrigento. John found his way through the labyrinthine streets to our B&B like a homing pigeon. Agrigento is one of those hill top towns and our B&B was right on the peak and on the top floors. Here we were met by the delightful Francesco who ran the establishment with charm, thoughtfulness and with everything just so. A terrace overlooks the town, the temples on a ridge below, and the shoreline and sea. Francesco sits us there and brings us coffee and some bits and pieces of cheese and tomato and croissants that are the left overs from breakfast but very welcome after our long drive. After settling in, he organises us with maps of the temples and maps of the town which he colour codes with highlighters as he proceeds. As we pass a piano which stands open with music upon it, I ask him if he plays whereupon he seats himself saying he used to play when young and plays something he calls a popular Italian song, can't remember composer and a Schubert piece. He has a nice touch. In the afternoon we walk down through the old town which is pleasant although shut up for siesta to catch a bus to the archaeological museum from where we will walk to the temples. We imagine that we are going to be having a quick squiz at a local museum and be in and out in a half hour or so. But it is a wonder. Agrigento was settled around 580 BC by settlers from Rhodes and Crete and also from the Greek settlement in Gela,Sicily. The museum tells the story of the Greeks in Sicily quite well. I have been struck while here at the organised mode of colonization and how quickly separation from the mother colony occurred. Also by how Sicily was like the new world, the rich and prosperous land. There is much more to learn! The museum's primary focus though is on Agrigento and Gela. The Greek vases here are truly miraculous. And there are so many of them. What is so stunning is how beautiful they all are. They didn't seem capable of making a sloppy one. There are large pictures of the many vases that are in the Louvre, London, Berlin and elsewhere that have come from here. There are also a few sculptures - a lovely Olympic victor a bit stiff from the front but taughtly alive from the back. The marble is shining. 5th century BC. The museum is enormous because the scale of the settlement here was so extensive. And what has been excavated is a tiny area of what was once settled. There are many simple and more coarsely made objects as well including hundreds of little figures that are statues of the goddesses, presumably these are little household icons. One is is overwhelmed by how bountiful this legacy is of a past life and so rich a one from this small space. From the museum we walk down the hill to where tourist buses are disgorging their masses and visit the three main temples. They are of course on the top of a hill and quite a distance from each other. Somehow this area doesn't grab us like the other Greek temple areas we have visited. Perhaps it is because it is more developed for tourists. Perhaps because one of the temples has had some other building done inside it which makes it look rather bureaucratic. The highest temple though is lovely. We nearly didn't continue on there after the long and exhausting time in the museum followed by the considerable trek we had made up from the middle temple. We climb up from the almond orchards and the ubiquitous olive tree and then walk around it. It is just columns. Doric. Quite small. We sit on a ledge down one end outside and just admire it. We think of that thriving civilization that is no more. We admire the view down the valley, olive trees and grass land, peak hour cars snaking along like toys, a cool restorative breeze. My legs won't work any longer, especially when I see a sign saying granita and indicating the capacity to sit down so we take time out before descending. I order an almond granita and it is sublime. As we sit in the warm evening sun, sitting, bliss! the young man serving us points to the almond trees and says 'from here'. It is so obviously true. He is cleaning up outside and fussing around with a kitten trying to get it to go to the seniora not realising I am allergic to cats but the kitten decides John is the go (for once, usually cats love me!) and play fights with his fingers. Refreshed and remaining granita in hand we head back down, look at the temple closest the road, now turning gold in the low sun, catch the bus back to town and walk UP through it for a rest before dinner. |
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