How many roads must a man walk down.....

Let's start with last night's dinner.......after all I wrote the last blog early so we could dine by the beach, and I did not fancy writing it after a litre of wine.

We had what Marjan said was the most beautiful and colourful sunset she has ever seen. It went on all through dinner, and though I might argue the precise point with Marjan it was impressive.  It must have been the people on the beach all took photos, the people walking their dog took photos, the waitress took photos, the owner took photos, we took photos. We had been advised about one of the places on the beach to eat at, it was family run and good value, so that is where we went. The cook came out to chat, Italian and German to Marjan, her sister, the waitress came out to chat, Italian and Spanish and English and we decided that yes the baby squid and small fish, cannot recall the name but between whitebait and sardine, that were fresh from the market that afternoon would accompany the litre of wine, bread, prawns and Sicilian salad. Marjan ate the fish as they were beheaded, she closed her eyes and had some baby squid as well. The prawns were no problem, and I had no problem eating anything in front of me. All very nice and the sunset show was awesome. During our conversations we mentioned we were staying at Enza and Pino's place. Now we do not know if modern communications were involved but who should show up between entree and main......yes Pino and Enza to say hi, shake our hands ask if everything was OK. All very lovely and little -townish.

Off early in the morning. We had a two hour drive to a Roman Villa to see the bikini girls. The drive took us through some lovely inland countryside and eventually into an amazingly fertile valley, veggies, fruit you name it. At the head of the valley a poplar forest and then the Villa Romana del Casale. A fourth Century Roman Villa, probably belonging to the Governor of Sicily, certainly a big knob. Before I started planning this trip I had never heard of this place, but it is amazing. The place was occupied for a while till the Vandals (bloody Germans) destroyed it. Later on (around 1200) a mud slide covered the place and hence protected the mosaics. Most of the villa walls are gone but a lot of the mosaics remain and they are wonderful. Patterns, stories...you name it. By the way the scale is interesting. Most of these would be as bit or bigger than our family room at home, they are taken from walkways about a storey above them.

One whole galley depicts animal scenes, hunting wild African animals for return to Rome.

The most famous mosaics are the bikini girls. Actually a depiction of woman training/competing and being awarded as winner during an Olympic style games. You can see the previous, damaged, mosaic in the top corner.

Even the toilets were decorated......

It really was something to see......

We then headed into the pretty town of Piazza Armerina where all the survivors headed after the mud slide. A really nice town, the old quarter, once we managed to find a park on market day......

The piazza around the Duomo was almost empty, and the church closed,but it had a cafe to provide some pizza, orange juice and coffee....

Back to the car via a supermarket and off again for another lengthy drive to our next lodgings.

Again through some lovely countryside before things got interesting. Jaimie Lee decided to take some liberties with our route and we ended up taking quite a few interesting roads. We saw abandoned airports, abandoned freeways, abandoned multi storey buildings, the backside of every town between Piazza Armeria and Modica, some fertile bottom-land, acres of hot houses, some amazing cliffs. In between this we were let on one road, right onto another back around to the original one. We were heading in the general direction but making a lot less progress than I would have liked.

Eventually we pulled over and re-calibrated Jaimie Lee with a prickly pear and a quick back and forth with a fully laden car. Just about then Bob Dylan came on the stereo to sing Blowing In the Wind and we knew our day had been fated.

We eventually made it to our rustic cottage (1926...so modern) overlooking the Archaeological park of Cava d'Ispica. A sort of cave dwelling, graveyard from Paleo Christian times. Greeks and Romans built amazing stuff, Christians dug holes in cliffs. More on it if we decide to visit, for now we just look across at some of the caves from our balcony (the dark marks on the light cliffs)

Scala di Trurchi

We had left this day as our beach holiday day for this area. As it turned out it was the least beachy day of them all. Planning!

We nonetheless headed out for Scala di Turchi in the morning. This is a spot made up of white stepped cliffs. apparently its appearance on an Inspector Montalbano episode has made it more popular with Brits.

It was certainly a striking place. A little bit scary getting near the edges. Some did not have too many problems but we are older and clumsier and kept a little back. I almost told someone off who was scratching their name on the chalky surface, but hey I'm not Sicilian and they may be.

At one point I wanted to take a particular shot but was delayed by one particular couple where were taking selfies and endless shots of her posing with her butt stuck out at what may be considered a provocative angle. It was provocative because they would not move out of my frame. So I change the postprocessing....

Anyway, we had a longish walk along the beach, between one cocktail bar/ristorante and the next. The area along here is littered with the joints, Apparently it is not a real beach if there is not a bar to rent you a spot on a lounge chair. At least these people were employing folk to rake and clean the beaches. Rubbish rate down.

Eventually we got tired and the beach was approaching an industrial area........this become the pattern further east on this coast........so we headed back and up the cliff and had some refreshments. The place we chose was above the cliff; ground floor a take away cafe, first floor a family home, second floor a terrazza with a view....so up we went through the private balcony where Mrs was hanging out the washing to the terrazza with a view. Weird.

We decided to visit the Torre Salsa nature reserve.  The west road just ended. Like the road stopped in a ditch. The east road kept going but the road eventually descended into a bog near the lagoon....so we abandoned that approach and instead just had an afternoon of chilling at the villa looking at the view.

We will head down to our local beach later for dinner and a beach sunset.

By the way, Happy Grand Final Eve Day. Do they have cards I can send yet? When will presents be required. Although by the time you read this it will be Grand Final Day.

Also, it is interesting to note that and angry man will always trump a reasonable woman.

As you can see, I have been looking at the Internet during our shill time. The world is still strange!

Inland tomorrow. Which may be just as well the weather has cooled a couple of degrees.

Where there is no temple there shall be no homes.

TS Eliot said that, not me. I said "More effing temples!". Marjan said "Don't make me out to be an idiot this time!"

But first our wild night. No not that! It was blowing a gale overnight. So much so it woke us both around 2AM. We were perfectly snug in our villa but could hear the wind and the rubbish bins banging against the garage wall.  We both read for a while as sleeping was not an option.

When we woke is was totally calm and gorgeous, and Marjan asked why I had not booked the house directly over the sea. Having no good answer I added this to the list of sins I apologise for each morning.

We hit a traffic jam heading to Agrigento, but still managed to get there before it became too chaotic. We were amusing ourselves by laughing at Jamie Lee's (our GPS) take on place and street names. Even Marjan trying to be outrageous could not match JL's take. Our last instruction before getting to our destination was to turn right onto Dirty Dean. I have looked at maps and tried all sorts of thoughts but nothing comes close to Dirty Dean.

We declined the taxi to the Temple of Juno at the top of the hill and decide the walk up and down would be good for our muscle tone, and cheek colour.

The Valley of the Temples is an old Greek town, settled directly from Corinth, we walked mostly along the ceremonial axis, hence the temples. The Romans came a bit later and used the temples for their own gods at various stages, but later settlers (Arabs, Normans, Spaniards preferred the higher ground where modern Agrigento now stands).

The most impressive temple was mere rubble but at 100m by 40m (roughly) it was the biggest in the west. I loved this column/statue of the god Jove that supposed supported the roof.

What is amazing us about these sites is the number of temples, they almost equal the number of churches in Erice......either very sinful or very holy.....or maybe both

We met a nice English couple and swapped photo duties. Hard to gauge from this, but we were actually surrounded by about 60 Spaniards chattering away and taking their own happy snaps.

The walk along the street of the dead with the tomb openings was a little creepy, and at times the crowds were intrusive. 200 people walking abreast along a path and do not get out of the way........we vacillated between rudeness and politeness......that is to say between me and Marjan. Eventually Marjan succumbed and walked behind me as I pushed through the maul.

The site is massive, they have great olive and almond groves and constant views back to the city, or surrounding towns and freeways. A concert was being planned hence the chairs and van. They are reintroducing a species of goats from Afghanistan first brought in by the Arabs.

The good thing about this site is it has plenty of shade.

whilst contemplating paleo christian tombs

.....or the difference between a capitol and capital....Morgan might like that one, given he is a column nut.

We dropped down into the gardens for a look as well, oranges, and quinces, and lemons, and limes, and all sorts of stuff. Including a paleo christian chapel dug into the cliff.

I cannot resist the old v new thing, and the trees looked stunning

Marjan broke the pattern and had a sleep this arvo whilst I went for a swim at our local beach. It is called Marina Bovo.  JL calls it Marina Bovo, I call it No Bovvo.

Giro turistico, mangiare, nuotare, ripetere

Sight see, eat, swim, repeat. Pretty much our Sicily holiday rhythm.

We woke, late, to overcast skies. Headed into Sciacca fo a look see, pronounced Shiaka. A town of 40,000 people. Half the size of Ballarat and less density according to wikipedia, hard to align with our experience. We arrived and parked near the thermal springs that helped establish this place around 500BC. Brutal concrete arts centre car park was filling fast.

We essentially did the tourist route up one road to the old town gate back along a parallel one. The place is a chaos of cars parked higgled piggledy, no footpaths, collapsing buildings, gorgeous ceramics and the occasional opening to the Mediterranean. We had morning tea of hot, fresh bread and grapes $(assume euro)1.9 well spent. We sat for a while in a shady spot, not many to be found, they seem to like their seats in the glaring sun, and watched a couple of municipal police raid a bar, have a coffee, argue with various people on the pavement whilst having a ciggie, ignore the car that drove onto the piazza to do a u turn....you know normal chaotic Italian life.

Italians seem to feel that you can park anywhere you want if one or more of the following conditions are met:

• you leave the car running;
• you have two wheels on the pavement (bye bye pavement);
• you are in a rush;
• you really want to.

Seriously, the cars are choking the city.

We really liked the ceramics, even the local school had some on the external wall. Some beautiful stuff being made in the shops. They called them laboratorios if they actually made stuff on site.

We ended up in the La Madre church where two gentlemen were carrying on an animated though quiet conversation. But under a watchful eye.

Eventually gravity dragged us down to the harbour. Sciacca may have been a spa town. It is now a major fishing port. It has a significant fleet bringing in fresh fish every day.

We walked along the harbour and eventually we both got totally fed up. The effing rubbish everywhere is an utter disgrace. The pier and water is littered with stuff, every wayside stop is piled with rubbish, a seat overlooking the sea is surrounded by a sea of debris. The beach is dotted with as many butts as pebbles. Do they NOT see it? It is driving us a little nuts. We love a lot of what we are experiencing, but the litter, and the rubbish dumping, is taking its toll. Sorry, had to get that off my chest.

We then walked around the docks area, the normal Italian contrasts, pretty sights, piles of rubbish.

We walked around to the recreational marina, where we were not let into private clubs that have restaurants along the pier looking back to town. Oh well,  we found a trattoria that we had heard was good value for money. Again we feasted on sea food. Marjan could not quite bring herself to bite off the baby octopus' head, but everything else was very nice (misto da mare, pasta a la sarde, calamari a la griglia). The grilled radicchio lettuce may be an acquired taste.  A family place. Nonno sat at the front table, joined by son and a salesman for some business, son waiting tables, Nonna in the kitchen, Mamma came in at lunch with the three girls, proceeded to rearrange the place and order her husband around, the girls sat with Nonno and had their lunch while he doted. We ate and watched and the rubbish was forgotten among the taste of our food and the aromas around us.

Back up to the car with an icecream for company...it was a hard climb back with full bellies and hot sun. If we stay here too long they will need to ship us back by boat.

Marjan drove, which meant the chatter was NSFW. Suffice to say she is not a fan of Italian drivers....regardless of the direction they are coming from. She is particularly not a fan of bus drivers who pass her and stress her out with their shenanigans.

Of course we found a beach, and had a swim  (bloody butts) and felt all cool and relaxed.

We are currently cooking some fresh vegetables grown on site and presented to us by Pino on our arrival. A simple dinner will have to do, we are too undressed to go out again.