I guess waking up at 4am can make me a little grumpy. "Would you like to pick up your bags in Milan or Catania?" Uhhmm, what do you think? (Not said out loud.) My guitar case was deemed fragile and therefore I had to go wait in a seperate line to get the cleared. I didn't argue, but the fact is it is probably the best packed thing I have, considering it's the only thing I have actually in a flight case. "Why?--said out loud upon being told that I couldn't take two carry on bags through the security checkpoint in Manchester. The airline was fine with it--I was allowed to have two carry ons once I was on the other side of the security checkpoint, but during the actual crossing of the security checkpoint I was only allowed to have one. A "government" regulation. I thought our government was somewhat unique in the first world for coming up with daft anti-terror regulations that don't actually protect any one, but apparently our sister, Britain, can play that game as well. Had to check in twice, basically, to check a third bag. Once I overcame my baggage problems, though, no big deal. Just tired and a little queasy from having to get up so early. Was pretty well zonked out by the time the plane took off. Did watch the English countryside, for a bit, though, until we got above cloud cover. It is quite pretty country, even when it is overcast. Dozed off mostly until we got over the Alps. Holy shit, the Alps. Wow! What more can I say? The countryside on either side of the Alps was beautiful, too, of course. Our descent into Milan started just as we were leaving the last of them behind.
Just to keep the theme going, I guess, upon entering Milan for my connection I once again had to cross a security check point in which, once again, a bottle of water I had purchased in the secured area of another airport was confiscated. Four hour layover in Milan, the highlight of which was buying a special issue of "La Cucina Italiana" dedicated to cooking seafood. This has lots of information I'd wondered about concerning the cleaning and preparation of all sorts of fish--I'm very excited. We're going to cook some motherfucking fish.
More sightseeing from above. There is some big ass mountain range running right down the center of Italy that is almost as impressive as the Alps. I forget the name. It's either the Dolomiti or Appennini. Pretty whatever it was. Dozed off a bit more then swore I saw the coliseum in Rome, although I've half talked myself out of that idea at this point. There was a huge train station near by, so it could have been Rome, but there seemed to be a lot of green as well, which I wouldn't have expected for Rome. But what else looks like the coliseum? I can't decide if I saw it or not. Not long after that we passed out over the water--there was a very cool island near the coast of Italy that I've been wondering what it is ever since. Assuming I really did see the coliseum, then it's just south of Rome off the west coast and pretty small and quite pretty. I imagined rich people sailing their yachts there.
A lot more water and not much to look at, until suddenly I look up and there's Sicily looming ahead. Quite big, a lot of yellow and green. I was on the wrong side of the plane to see Etna. I was seated on the right side and we passed to the west of Etna until Catania was east of us and then hung a hard left to land at Fontanarossa. Which has pretty much been completely rebuilt since the last time I was there. I recognized nothing, actually. Just all big and new looking. Opted for the cab instead of the bus. Paid thirty euro, but didn't have to lug my crap through the streets. Exciting to be on the ground and recognize everything. I'm reenergized and don't even mind that I've been travelling for more than 12 hours .
The Professore Lo Meo, our landlord, and his wife are amazingly nice and hospitable. The apartment is absolutely gorgeous. The layout is a bit bizarre, but it is interesting and beautiful. Professore Lo Meo lived in this apartment until his mom, who lived one floor down, passed away, and he moved into her apartment. We ended up spending close to two hours with them as we went over everything with the apartment, chit chatted, attempted (unsuccessfully) to pay (something with the credit card line being down), and they fed us ice cream. Finally Chris and I make a mad dash to the (wrong) grocery store, buy many kilos worth of staple food items, and then carry them back about a mile or so to the apartment. (We got lost on the way to the supermarket and missed the one that was actually really close to us.) Groceries put away, a bit of hanging out in the rooftop garden, and dinner at the trattoria literally around the corner.
I could say more about the dinner, but I'll content myself with saying that Chris had somehow managed to already befriend a waiter there, Omar, before I even arrived in Catania. The highlight for me was Omar coming up to Chris with some sort of stain stick and applying it to Chris's shirt--*while he's eating dinner*-- to prevent some sauce that Chris spilled from making a permanent stain. Now that's service. That and the shots of some sort of homemade cinnamon liqueur that Omar felt we should try.
A good, long day.
