May 16, 2011
Remember slips?
They’re still worn in Sicilia.
They wave from backstreet balconies, flags of nylon nostalgia.
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May 7, 2011 Birra.
Insalata.
Olio di Sicilia.
I’m on my way back to Sicily. La dolce vita. Paradiso. *** Click to subscribe to BaroqueSicily. April 28, 2011 You have been to Italy. You know them, intimamente: The Speeders. Tail-Gaiters. Red-Light Runners. Wrong-Way Goers. Horn Blowers. Ruby-Faced Yellers. (Deficiente!) Lane Swervers. Passers on Blind Curves. There are no rules for driving in Italy, except one: never ever make eye contact with another driver. Add to the mix the 14-year old scooter driver, barely out of diapers.
Fourteen is the age of consent in Italy. It is also the age at which you can hop on a moped and terrorize the other drivers on the road.
Kids under 18 are required to wear a helmet, though, when driving a moped. Do they always? Well, see for yourself below how well they comply with this law.
*** Click to subscribe to BaroqueSicily.com February 26, 2011 It was not 8:15 when I took this photo in Palazzolo, but high noon.
It was not high noon when I took this photo in Ragusa Ibla, but 4:30.
Clocks don’t work in Sicily because time doesn’t matter. There is never a race against time, nor do islanders ever have to beat the clock. Time here is not money (sorry, Ben Franklin). “On time” is an alien concept, and doing absolutely nothing is never considered a waste of time. Il Dolce Far Niente. The Sweet Doing of Nothing. When I have ants in my pants, islanders fix me with wide eyes and say this: Pazienza. Ogni cosa a so tempu, Everything has its time.
Yes, Sicily is teaching me to linger, to absorb, and to sloooooooow waaaaaaaaay dooooooooown. *** And what did you linger over today? When was the last time you tried a little Dolce Far Niente? *** Click to subscribe to BaroqueSicily. February 4, 2011
This is Monterosso Almo in Southeast Sicily (population 3300), where tourists dare not tread. Go, if you like tumbledown places with warm-hearted folks and heart-stopping views. This is OLD SICILY, folks. Step into the surprising chiesa madre in the upper part of town and have a drink at the bar across the street with the charming old onion farmers, then wander down into the lower (older) section of town and hunt for the stone fountain where women once scrubbed clothes. You’ll think you’ve stepped way back into a bygone time, except for the windmills taking over a nearby hillside like so many nasty weeds. In season, ask for directions to the mushroom (funghi) restaurant just outside town. *** Click to subscribe to BaroqueSicily. *** Head over to Dianne Hales’ Becoming Italian site for a chance to win some cool Italy-related prizes. |
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