I’m lying in my bed in my hostel in Maratea, a small coastal town on the foot of Italy, having left Catania a couple of days ago. I didn’t really want to leave – I was so comfortable there – but I figured I should head across and check out the stiletto of the boot before heading back home.
Living in Catania was just a wonderful few weeks. I’m going to miss so many things. I’m really going to miss talking with the family that owns the B&B – whilst the main owner (Daniele) and his brother spoke English, the parents did not and it was so lovely that, given they spoke slowly and were patient, we could converse and enjoy a laugh. I miss that feeling of being cared about and feeling like you’re almost at home.
The remaining staff were just lovely – Gianna and Oriana both made me feel less homesick and more like part of the furniture – they took me out and introduced me to their friends and really looked after me.
I’m also really going to miss strolling through the markets every day. The vendors line up with their various wares, the amazingly fresh fruits, the cheeses, the meats and their strung up carcasses (probably not a great place for an ‘ethical’ vegetarian to wander through), the pungent fish and seafood….the list goes on. But what is so wonderful about the markets is the interactions you see….the vendors sing out about what they have. It’s not calling out like at the markets in Morocco, they literally sing, bringing a warm glow and a big smile to your face, thinking, yeah, I can live with this. You walk up and buy a few different fruits, and they throw in a couple extra and a wink for good measure. As much as supermarkets are a wonderful convenience you can’t help but be aware of what you are missing out on by not interacting with people on a more basic level.
In the end I didn’t end up going to Taormina, which is a shame but after such a wonderful time spent there I have no doubts that I will come back. The weather unfortunately just kept me inside (rain, rain, rain), which I guess has been good for my work ethic (or my ability to watch Numb3rs in any case).
So once again, my news is limited. I’m heading to Bari in a couple of days, at the top of the stiletto before making my way down and then back up again for the long, long, long, long flight home. As much as I’m dying to get home, the flight I can wait for. Yikes. 23 hours on a plane is not my idea of fun. As the time draws closer I am still feeling torn between wanting time to hurry the hell up, but also wanting it to stop completely. I am really looking forward to coming home but I also don’t want to come home because it means my adventure is over. I don’t want it to be over dammit! I guess that’s also another reason I decided to leave Catania – my last hurrah of sightseeing before returning home.
So I’ve only got two weeks left, which, like I said, is a bit frightening. Will report in again at least once before I get home.
Tanti baci!!
