Villa Romana del Casale

After a bit of delay getting started, our bus embarked on an hour and a half journey to the town of Casale where an unusually opulent Roman villa, dating from the early 5th century C.E., was largely preserved due to a mud slide that buried it for a thousand years.

The villa is huge, even by the standards of Roman nobles, which has given rise to speculation that it may have belonged to an emperor. There is no evidence to support this, but the spectacular size and opulence indicate that the owner must have been someone of great importance in the late Roman Empire.

Our local guide overwhelmed us with too much information, beginning with a look at the Roman baths that were attached to the house. Most Romans would have attended a public bath house. The fact that this villa had a fully functioning bath of its own is quite extraordinary.

The baths, like all of the rooms in the villa, was decorated by floors of marble mosaics that indicated the function of the room.

After viewing the baths, we reached the portico where guests would have arrived at the villa. A triple gate and an array of fountains would have overwhelmed the arriving guest. The beautiful mosaic floors of the entrance hall would give a taste of what the entirety of the villa would have in store.

From the entrance hall, the guest would have entered the central courtyard of the villa. It was an open garden with fountains, surrounded by porticos with mosaic floors featuring wild animals and a roof held up by columns.

One side of the courtyard featured the residence of the villa's owner and his family. These rooms are large and decorated with mosaics representing Homeric tales, gods and goddesses, and children acting out parodies of classical stories.

The opposite side had an array of guest rooms, as well as kitchens and dining rooms where guests could be entertained. Adjacent rooms with mere geometric pattern mosaics were those used by servants tending to the needs of the guests.

Along the fourth side of the courtyard is a very long hallway, separating the living quarters from the business side of the villa. The hallway is decorated with scenes of the capture of wild animals of all sorts representing animals brought from all corners of the Roman Empire, as even as far to the east as India.

The main room on the business side of the villa is a large basilica that could easily accommodate dozens and dozens of people who might come before the villa owner to conduct affairs. Despite the prattle of our guide, the villa was quite an amazing sight to see.

After finishing our visit to the villa, we drove another hour through agricultural territory to a winery that is owned by two sisters. This women owned and operated farm also served us a very nice lunch at tables set amid the stainless steel tanks in which wine was fermenting around us. 

Heavy rain came down as we were eating, so we could not go into the vineyards, but one of the sisters provided detailed explanation of the wines produced here.

Another hour and a half on the bus brought us to the city of Ragusa, where we will be staying the next three days. From a distance, the city looks to have been built vertically on the steep hillside. Once in the town, it becomes clear that there are actual streets, though many are steep and narrow.

Our hotel is a rather old building near the center of the historic city, but very adequate. We enjoyed a light supper at a restaurant a few blocks away, and will have a full tour tomorrow.

Valley of the Temples

Our bus took us from Mazala del Vallo to the city of Agrigento, and the Valley of the Temples, where we were introduced to our local guide, Salvatore. He was a forensic archaeologist -- a specialist in identifying human bones. But he left his teaching position at the university several years ago, because he could make more money as a tour guide. It's too bad, because it was evident that he was a superb teacher.

Agrigento was once the Greek city of Akragas. It was established in the late 6th century B.C.E. when the Greeks displaced the Phonecians to create a satellite outpost to Syracusa. The city flourished about a hundred years later. The Phonecians launched a counter-attack, which the Greeks repelled. In the custom of the time, the Phonecian soldiers who were captured became enslaved, and that labor force of nearly 25,000 allowed for the building of a city that excelled Syracusa in both wealth and population. Part of that wealth was expended in the construction of a number of temples.

We visited three temple sites here. The first is known as the Temple of Juno, although it is not actually known which god was worshipped here. It is in classical Greek style with all of the mathematically symetrical layout and visual modifications of temples in Athens. The exception is that there is no marble in Sicily, so these temples were built from local sandstone covered with a durablle plaster to mimic the marble.

This temple is currently an active archaeological site, with students conducting supervised digs around the sacrificial altar and the temple foundations. They are hoping to determine the actual god to whom this grand temple was dedicated.

The second temple we visited is known as the Temple of Concordia. This name was derived from a Roman period tablet that was found on the site that began with that Latin word. However, it is now known that the temple was dedicated to the worship of the Gemini twin gods

Unlike most ancient temples, including the Temple of Juno we had just visited, the Temple of Concordia is not a restoration. It is the second most intact temple of the ancient world, and the most well-preserved outside of Greece. The reason for this is that the Byzantines converted this temple into a church when they arrived here in the 6th century C.E. Rather than destroying it, they converted it. Thus, the temple was preserved. It is in the classical style and a wonder to behold.

Finally, we visited the Temple of Hercules. Unlike the first two temples, that have names that don't necessarily correspond to the gods who where originally worshiped there, this temple is known to have been dedicated to Hercules in the Greek period, and to the Roman equivalent, Ercules later on. The temple has suffered much from earthquake damage over the centuries, and had only modest restoration in the 1920s and '30s.

Following our fascinating visit to the temples, our bus took us to lunch in a beautiful private home. We all ate at one long table, and our host and hostess, the LaScalla's, were very gracious. However, they spoke almost no English and our trip experience leader had to do a lot of translating. This was another traditional Sicilian meal, all organic and vegetarian, featuring eggplant, tomatoes, olives, bread, pasta, and bottomless glasses of wine.

Our host, Marcelo, promised us a "surpise" at the end of the meal. So after dessert, we were led downstairs into a walk-out basement where a half dozen traditional Sicilian horse carts were stored. Our host's father was one of the last master cartwrights. 

He had made the wheels, including the fastening of the iron outer ring and the intricate carving of the spokes. Our host demonstrated the perfect balance of the cart that put less stress on the animal pulling it.

Though our host ran a pannini shop, and was not a cartwright himself, he had enough of his late father's antique tools, and sufficient skill, to demonstrate the blacksmithing, wood turning, and wood bending tasks necessary to put a cart together. Each cart was a work of art, with intricate carvings and paintings.

After this delightful home visit, we boarded our bus once again for another hour and a half of travel through agricultural countryside to Piazza Armerina. This is an "agritourismo" farm in the middle of nowhere. The charming old buildings have been transformed into a hotel, restaurant, and event center surrounded by gardens, vineyards, and orchards.

They made a big deal of the swimming pool here, but the water was much too cold. They also made a big deal of the hiking and mountain bike trails. So we and our travel companions, Craig Dorsay and Suzy Driver, set out for what the map said would be an easy 3k hike through the olive trees.

What we did not realize is that this area had recently experienced heavy rains, so our hike soon turned into a slog through the mud. Downed trees made it impossible to remain on the trail, and the surrounding fields were even more muddy, slippery, and steep. Our "one hour hike" took more like and hour and a half. We were drenched in sweat, and our shoes were caked with mud. When we got back to the Piazza Armerina, we spent the next hour getting cleaned up. It was more of an adventure than we bargained for.

We did, however, make it to dinner on time. Only when we reached the dining room did we realize what a business this place is doing! Our group was by no means the only guests. The room was packed with Italians, Germans, and probably others. In keeping with the "agritourismo" spirit, everything we ate was produced organically on site. It was more food than we could possibly eat. And once again, the wine flowed endlessly.

We retired to our room, a family suite that could sleep five, hoping that our clothes and shoes might be dry by morning.

Marsala

[More photos to be added. Slow internet connection.]

This morning we drove up the road a bit to the city of Marsala, at the westernmost point of Sicily. Our main objective was to visit the "salt pans" where salt is extracted from the sea.

Our local guide, Marta, explained that this ancient process has become mechanized in some places, but is still practiced here in the ancient way. The key is a "master" salt-maker, currently a fourth generation craftsman, who is in charge of the entire operation.

The master begins the process at just the right point in the high tide in early spring by opening a gate to allow seawater into the "cold" pool. By observing the feel and the color of the water, the master knows when the sun has evaporated the precise amount of water necessary to raise the salinity of the pool. At that point, the "cold" water is pumped into another pool, above sea level.

Traditionally, the pumps for this process were operated by windmills. Most of the windmills here are still functional, but electric pumps move the water faster. Once raised to the second pool, there are two more pools to follow, each one closer to shore than the one before. Again, the master knows by color and feel the exact point at which to drain the water from one pool to the next.

In the final pool, two types of salt are the final result: The first is a very fine film that forms on the surface on windless mornings. The is the rarest and purest. The other is more common sea salt that settles on the bottom of the pool, about four inches thick. It, too is 99% pure, but is more coarse and crystalline. It is taken to a mill to be ground.

A wind-driven grinding mill is on site, but no longer used. The building holding it is now a museum and shop.

After our tour of the salt pans, we boarded a sort of oversized pontoon boat for a brief trip over to the island called San Pantaleo or Mozia (depending on who you ask), only about 300 meters off shore. In the 8th century B.C.E. this island was connected to the main body of Sicily by a narrow causeway and was the location of a Phoenician trading settlement known as Motia or Mothya.

In the late 1800s, the entire island was purchased by a British businessman named Joseph Whitaker who, along with his brother, had inherited a large Sicilian wine business from their uncle. Joseph married the daughter of a famous Italian general, and enjoyed the success of the wine business by engaging in his passion for, among other hobbies, amateur archaeology.

Whitaker's mansion on the island is now a museum of his many finds related to the Phoenician city that existed in his back yard from the 8th to 5th centuries B.C.E. The collection is a bit haphazard, which underscores the both the amateur nature of his work, as well as the state of archaeological science of the time.

Borrowed photo

The most important discovery is a life-sized statue knowns as "The Young Man of Mothya." Though the arms and feet are missing, it is in remarkably good shape.

A picnic-style lunch was served to us on the patio of the Whitaker mansion. It was typical Sicilian fare, with bread, olives, egg plant, tomatoes, couscous, and fruit. The food and wine were excellent. After the meal, we enjoyed a walk around the small island, visiting some of the archaeological dig sites, as well as Whitaker's vineyards and olive groves.

In the distance, across the bay, we could see dozens and dozens of paragliding or parasurfing sails. There may have been a hundred! No one in our group had ever seen so many in one place.

After the boat returned us to shore, we got back to the bus for the trip back to Mazara del Vallo. About half the group opted to be dropped, with Flaminia, at a local Catholic church hall to meet with a group of Tunisian immigrant women. I turned out to be the only man in a group of 20 or so women. Unfortunately, the Sicilian woman who runs the program so completely dominated the conversation that we heard almost nothing from the Tunisian women.

After a brief respite back at the hotel, we walked to a local restaurant for a cooking class and meal. They mostly served us what we had made in the kitchen, under the chef's direction. It was a pretty good meal, despite our involvement.

Mazara del Vallo

Mazara del Vallo is a beautiful spot by the sea, but our hotel has detracted a bit from the stay. The elevator allows only one person at a time, slowly, and we are on the second floor (European second, meaning what would be the third floor in the U.S.). So we are getting our steps in! Our room was very hot and muggy last evening, because the air conditioning had failed (it got fixed before bedtime). Water in the shower barely made it to lukewarm this morning. And the coffee machine at breakfast was turning out weak brew. Other than that, it's a great place to stay.

The schedule called for a walking tour of the town. We actually toured only a small portion -- the old Arab "casbah." Our guide was a young man, a second generation Tunisian born and raised in Mazara. Hosni spoke very little English, so our trip experience leader, Flaminia acted as translator. Near as we could tell, Hosni has no professional qualifications. But he is a big history buff, and he appeared to be quite knowledgeable.

We walked past the Norman Arch, a ruin from an 11th century fortress near the seashore. And we walked past the Cathedral, though it was not open. It's a baroque-style building, but a cathedral has existed on the site since the Normans took over the local mosque that stood here when they conquered in 1072 C.E. We spent a bit of time in the town square, which is bounded by the Cathedral, a former seminary, a bishop's palace, and a fairly new, 20th century city hall that looks a bit out of place here.

The casbah's basic layout is the same as it was a thousand years ago, but of course the buildings are much newer. Like all such places, it is characterized by narrow, winding streets in no discernible pattern. The idea was that the locals would know their way around the maze, but invaders would not. Residents fleeing an invading army would have plenty of corners to duck behind, shielding them from arrows. Invaders, confused by dead ends and twisting alleyways could be trapped for slaughter by defenders. An extra benefit of the narrow passages is shade from the hot sun, even when no one was invading.

Mazara's casbah had become a haven for Tunisian immigrants because the rent was cheap and it was reminiscent of similar towns in North Africa. It had also become a hotbed for drug dealers and other criminals, because the same features that frustrated Medieval invaders make it difficult for police cars to navigate.

Some years ago, Mazara elected a new mayor who happened to be an artist. The mayor set about to transform the casbah into a tourist area by installing a lot of CCTV cameras to watch where police cars cannot go, and by inviting local artists to make the entire area a gallery. Ceramic tiles are some of the most unique art of the area, and there are hundreds of them in the casbah now, along with paintings, murals, and sculptures.

There is a tradition of art here. We visited the church of St. Francis, which is plain on the outside, but a wonderful display of rococo plaster sculptures, frescoes, and oil paintings on the interior. Unfortunately, a great deal of it has been water damaged over the years, and the entire church is badly in need of restoration.

This is not the mosque, but just a richly decorated house.

Just down the block is a simple house that has been turned into a local mosque. Despite the meeting of cultures and the lower economic fortunes of the immigrant population, the casbah is now a very safe place to live and to visit.

Next, we visited a very small but quite new and modern museum of recovered ancient shipwreck artifacts. The centerpiece of the collection was a bronze statue of The Dancing Satyr of Mazara del Vallo. The bronze was brought up in the nets of a local fishing boat in 1998.

Hosni's portion of the tour ended, and we were introduced to a retired banker, Antonio, who has devoted himself to helping facilitate the art displays in the casbah, as well as to the restoration of a 19th century theater or opera house that is now used once again for performances. We went to the theater and had two performances -- Antonio put an accompaniment soundtrack from his phone through speakers and gave us a karaoke performance of singing a couple of Italian songs. The second performance was the introduction of "Capitan Ciccio," who was the captain of the fishing boat that snagged the Dancing Satyr statue. It's been his claim to fame ever since, and though he spoke no English and needed Flaminia to translate, he told us the story of the discovery at great length. We both fought to stay awake.

Just down the street from the theater is an "art store" (souvenir shop) owned by Antonio and his wife, where "Capitan Ciccio" gave everyone in the group a postcard with his autograph, whether we wanted it or not (we later learned that his name is Francesco Adragna, but the fishing boat was named Capitan Ciccio, so it's the name he goes by). This all seems a bit lame, and it was, but it got to be rather funny.

We were divided into groups of five or six for our home-hosted lunch. My heart sank when we were assigned to the home of "Capitan Ciccio" to be our lunch host. But it actually turned out well. Francesco, a widower, wasn't on stage for this part of the day. He and his girlfriend have a lovely home and are good cooks. His girlfriend's daughter was there, a university student who spoke flawless English and was a charming translator. We had a very nice time and a good meal.

After a bit of a respite back at the hotel, we set out for an evening walk on our own. Mazara has a lively pedestrian street, and then we continued down one of the main drags that was busy with shops of various kinds. When we decided to turn toward the water once more, we found ourselves on the winding streets of the casbah, some of which were familiar from the morning. We managed not to get lost, like hostile invaders, and found our way to the sea. We ended up at a sidewalk cafe, clearly the only tourists in the place, where we enjoyed a pleasant drink, the sunset, and a bit of people watching before calling it a night.

Cattedrale di Monreale

On this rainy morning we departed our hotel in Palermo (a little late, due to a snafu about moving our luggage), and made our way slowly through the heavy, Monday morning traffic to the outskirts of the city. Greater metropolitan Palermo has expanded to encompass the ancient village of Monreale which, in the 11th and 12th century, was the seat of Norman kings.

One of those kings, a young man named William II, determined that he would build a great cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary. His goal was to build a church that would outshine the cathedral of Palermo. We think that he succeeded magnificently, and why this church isn't more famous around the world is a mystery. The place is a gem! But it has only been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2015.

The church, begun in 1172 and largely completed in a single generation, is a blend of Norman, Byzantine, and Arabic art and architecture. It is basilica style with high, ornately decorated ceilings supported by granite columns. 

The primary feature is interior walls almost completely covered with mosaics of glass mirrored with gold leaf backing. The mosaics feature Old Testament stories of creation, Noah, Abraham, and Moses. A second tier of scenes from the life of Christ, and a third tier of Acts of the Apostles. All are done is Byzantine style, and the effect is stunning.

Our local guide, Gabriella, was superb. She was not only knowledgeable concerning the history, but also was dead-on with all the subtleties of the theological symbolism. She had a contagious enthusiasm for the cathedral. Sadly, we had only an hour with her, though I'm sure there was more to explore.

The rain was reduced to a sprinkle as we made our way back to the bus. We had to return toward Palermo in order to catch the motorway heading south, toward the southwestern corner of Sicily. On the way, we stopped at Tenuta Pispisa, an organic farm and "agritourism" operation where we ate lunch. The bus couldn't navigate the dirt road, so the farmer shuttled us up the hill in an old van.

Everything we ate was produced on the farm -- wonderful olives, tomatoes, peppers, quiche, pasta, and endlessly flowing wine. It was quite a good meal, but we lingered here longer than necessary as they sold olive oil and bottled wine to those who take such souvenirs home.

We had the option of walking the two miles down the hill to the bus, or taking the shuttle. Almost the entire group opted to walk. Along the way, we passed the remains of the Temple of Segesta (Roman name applied later), which was the center of a Hellenistic city clouded in mystery. While the culture was clearly Greek, the people who lived here were either Phoenicians or an indigenous Sicilian tribe called the Elimy. The temple dates from the 5th century BCE, but was never completed. The site can be visited, but we only looked on from the distance.

Finally, we arrived at our destination for the day: the seaside town of Mazara del Vallo. Our hotel is right on the water, and our room overlooks the sea. We've had time to do little else other than to eat a nice included meal as a group at a nearby seafood restaurant. But the town looks promising and we're eager to explore it tomorrow.

Castelbuono

Today's tour was marked as optional, but our entire group signed up to go. We walked through the pedestrian streets of the Palermo historical district a few blocks until we reached a main thoroughfare where we met a van. The van ride was about 90 minutes, mostly on modern, interstate type highway.

Castelbuono was described as a village, but it has a population of around 10,000. It feels much more like a small town. However, the old center does have the architecture and feel of a Medieval village. It also happens to be the family home of our guide, Flaminia. Her mother was born here and she still has family here. 

The dominant feature is the castle, which has at least a portion dating to the 11th century. The castle has Arabic, Norman, and Spanish features. It was clearly built as a fortress, and seems to have been added onto in a very haphazard manner, with dead end hallways, very low doorways, and lots of steps between levels.

The most important room in the castle is the chapel, which was built by a noble family and redecorated in Baroque style by two plaster artists in 1600. The stucco figures remain in excellent condition, and they almost literally jump off the walls at the viewer.

The chapel is dedicated to Saint Anne, mother of the Virgin Mary, and supposedly her skull is kept in the treasury above the altar. Once a year, on her festival day, St. Anne's skull is taken out and displayed on a balcony overlooking the town, so that the town's folk can receive its blessing. However, it's unclear just how many skulls of St. Anne might be on display in various churches across Europe.

The rest of the castle is now a municipal art museum, with religious art, modern paintings and sculptures, and photography on display. There is also a room devoted to the history of the castle itself.

After touring the castle, we walked to the town's central piazza where we were introduced to our tour leader's mother, who is obviously proud of her daughter's new job with OAT. 

Mom spoke very little English, but Flaminia translated as we asked her questions about her daily life. She looked at the ages of our group members, and told us she was glad that her daughter would have so many mothers to watch over her the next couple of weeks.

With a bit of free time, Mary and I visited the main local church in the piazza. It was a pretty little church with a very old and somewhat damaged altarpiece, as well as some really nice frescoes that were badly damaged and in need of restoration. There was no indication of whether this was war damage or just deterioration, but it could have been quite a showplace with some repair.

We also took a peek at the city hall, but didn't pay the €1.50 each to climb up to the clock tower.

It was time to meet again for lunch, which involved a walk of about a block and a half. Quite surprising for such a small town, we discovered that we would be dining in a Michelin-rated restaurant. Live music greeted us -- a violin and a guitar. Sadly, the musicians had some intonation problems, but they continued to serenade us all the way through the appetizers.

The restaurant specializes in mushroom dishes -- not so much to my delight, but others loved it. I managed to eat most of it, and the pasta -- which was only seasoned and not filled with mushroom chunks -- was actually quite good. The restaurant also had their own label of local wine, which flowed liberally.

Back in the piazza after lunch, Flaminia had arranged for us to taste some sweets made from "manna," a sap derived from a particular species of local ash trees. Think maple syrup candies and cakes, all very tasty.

The ride back to Palermo was hot. The air conditioning on the van wasn't doing its job on this 85 degree afternoon. But we survived. We had time only for a quick bathroom break before heading out once again.

We rode the same van a short distance to another hotel, at the edge of the historical area. There we met with two men from Corleone, a town about an hour south of Palermo, who both had had fathers in the mafia. In fact, one of them was the son of the former head of the entire Sicilian cosa nostra.

We learned of the origins of the mafia in the early 19th century, born out of failed colonial government, poverty, and the remnants of feudalism. We also learned of the connection between American and Sicilian organized crime brought about by World War II. We learned how greed and infighting turned "the family" into "the mob," with indiscriminate violence and involvement in the drug trade. And we learned how law enforcement has broken the mafia from a far-reaching organization into disorganized local gangs.

Both men were kept out of the mafia by their fathers. In fact, the son of the number one Don did not learn the true nature of his father's involvement until the father was arrested when his son was age 16! Nevertheless, he has suffered repeated insults and discrimination due to his family connection. We even had to go to meet him at this location because he is banned from entering many hotels and other meeting places. It was a fascinating presentation, complete projected visuals.

We elected to walk back along the seaside, rather than take the van. It was a pleasant evening, and the historical district was packed with people, despite it being a Sunday night. We enjoyed a gelato and did some people watching.

Later, we returned to the piazza where we had talked to people about the festival light display they were setting up yesterday. The place was, indeed, lit up! 

The church was open, with many banners, flowers, and candles burning. But the Virgin Mary was doing a lot more to fuel the business of the surrounding outdoor bars than she was doing to pack in the faithful for prayers. It was a real carnival atmosphere that gave no indication of wrapping up early.