Unfortunately,
this time there was no wine festival, so we had to make do with actually paying
for wine, and had to take shelter in a bar because it was SO DAMN COLD. I
honestly didn't realise Sicily could get so cold. There have been nights when
the temperature has reached zero, and I was definitely not prepared for this.
As soon as I got back to Cefalù I went and bought
myself a little heater, which has made a world of difference. I also purchased
an electric hot water bottle, which was easily the best 5 euro I have ever
spent IN MY LIFE.
The next weekend was an ELA trip to Catania! It seems silly
now, but at the time I was really nervous about going to a strange city, to
spend a weekend with a group of people I'd never met before. I knew Catherine
from Glasgow, so I figured I'd have at least one pal in the group, if they
turned out to be a bunch of weirdos. As it goes however, it was a brilliant
weekend, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been bundled together in Sicily
with such lovely, funny people!
After school on the Friday I caught the train to Palermo,
and then spent an hour wandering in circles, trying to avoid the junkies and
waiting for my bus. Normally I HATE bus journeys with a burning passion, but
somehow the beautiful scenery as we crossed Sicily took away all of my
travel-rage. The three-hour journey passed even faster than I had hoped, and
soon enough, I'd made it to Catania, found Catherine, (who was hiding in the
train station because a man had been following her because he wanted to cut her
hair. Uhhm...) and then Katy and Laura arrived to rescue us and lead us to the
hostel.
After dumping our stuff in the C.C.L.Y hostel (which is
possibly the loveliest hostel in all of Italy), we headed out to aperitive. We found a little place by the cathedral where we drank Nero D'Avola and ate lovely antipasti featuring olives, crisps, croquettes, aubergine,
courgette, (and probably other things that I have forgotten about).
Next we decided to find some proper food, (I love that
after this, every subsequent day I have spent with these girls has been mainly
based around food), and wandered around for a bit, half-lost, until we found a
place that looked quite promising. It may have taken a 10-minute battle with
the front of the restaurant before we actually managed to locate the door and
enter, but we were determined to get inside.
Now, every time I have eaten out in Sicily, I have been
overwhelmed by the noise, of clattering plates and cutlery, of music, of
conversation so loud that it almost seems as though people are simply yelling
at each other across the tables. But not here. We appeared to have found the
quietest restaurant in Sicily. It was almost silent. Which made us feel as
though we were being incredibly loud, and already being quite embarrassed after
the front-door-fiasco made the four of us very, very giggly, to the point where
almost everything in the menu was 'hilarious', from information about the
breathalyser available to borrow from the bar, to the "pasta with a
surprise filling", to "Rosanna's experience and inspiration conjure a
delicious vegetable medley", and the fact that we knew that we really
shouldn't be laughing just made it worse.
After
dinner came Mojitos and Jaegerbombs, and we all woke up on Saturday feeling
pretty delicate.
We spent
Saturday alternating between hiding in our beds in the hostel, and venturing
out for an hour or so at a time, to investigate the markets and shops in the
city centre. Another girl, Fiona, joined us, but unfortunately the sixth member
of the group missed his bus and didn't make it.
In the
market we found a few international food shops, so between us we stocked up on
Heinz Baked Beans, soya sauce, sweet and sour sauce and brown rice. I know that
we are supposed to be embracing the culture, but after 3 months of nothing but
Italian food, these little discoveries were a huge relief.
We had
dinner in the pizzeria next to the hostel, because it meant not having to walk
far in the cold, and we would apparently get a discount for being from the
hostel (we forgot to ask for the discount when the bill came, but hey-ho). The
pizza was good, but that's not surprising as I've yet to come across
disappointing pizza here, but the entertainment was brilliant! A group of men
entered the restaurant and then spent at least an hour playing and singing and
dancing around the place. I know this sounds like it was super-touristy, but it
really wasn't, it simply felt like we'd stumbled across this secret place that
the locals love.
On Sunday
we all had to face our ridiculous journeys home, because on Sundays, Sicily
simply doesn't work. Catherine had to leave the hostel at 10.30am, because,
"If I miss the 11am bus, I can't get home until tomorrow." And
Bronte's only about an hour away from Catania.
Despite a
grim 2-hour junkie-dodging wait in Palermo Centrale, I thought my journey was
going quite well until my train arrived in Cefalù
and the doors wouldn't open. After I'd tried 3 sets of doors the train moved
on, and I ended up stuck at the next stop, (fortunately I was not alone, and
the four of us got a taxi back to Cefalù together.)
Less than two weeks after the weekend in Catania, I was
travelling home for Christmas. I decided to set off really early, just in case
there were any delays along the way, and ended up at the airport more than 2
hours before check-in opened. It was just as well though, because I weighed my
suitcase and realised it was 7.5kg over my 15kg Ryanair luggage allowance.
Oops. So then I spent about an hour and a half unpacking and re-packing and
swapping things from my suitcase to my rucksack and putting on as many clothes
as I thought I could get away with.
I gave up when I got to 15.8kg, figuring that I’d be okay
for my flight to Barcelona, and if I had to have another shuffle about before I
could get on the flight to Malaga, then so be it. As it went, the girl at the
check-in desk in Barcelona was a bit of a cow, and tried to charge me 20 euro
for being over. I insisted that I wasn’t going to pay, and that I would simply
take something out of my case. Then five minutes later I re-appeared in front
of her wearing jeans, 3 pairs of socks, a t-shirt, a cardigan, a jumper, a
hoodie and a jacket, grimacing and telling her “Que calor!” She gave me a bit
of a look, and clearly didn’t find me as funny as I found myself, but she let
me through, which was a relief.
The Christmas holidays in Gibraltar were brilliant. I think
it was the combination of having spent 3 months on my own in Sicily, along with
having not had Christmas in Gib for 3 years, and having nearly 3 weeks at home
that made it the best Christmas break ever.
It was so relaxing, and I was so glad to see Mum and Dad and Sarah and many friends who I will not name here, that it was really hard to come back to Sicily after New Year. I’d
spent 17 days not really having to think, just wandering around as I pleased,
catching up over lunches, coffees, drinks, so coming back to live
on my own, in the cold (it was SO MUCH WARMER in Gib), felt really sad.
However, since Sarah gave me a weekend break in Milan for Christmas (RIDICULOUS and AMAZING), that was DEFINITELY something to look forward to when I came back!!
Oh, there were tears (of course there were tears!), but deep-down I'm glad to be back, and I know that I'm going to be just as upset when I get to the end of May and have to go home for good!!
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