Thursday, August 07, 2008

[up hill and down dale] the best way to lose weight

This is the traditional photo of this part of the world, which shows the steepness of the pathways.

Welshcakes tells me some readers have been concerned what happened in the past few days. I can assure you no one as yet has bumped me off nor deported me – that comes later. It’s just that for bureaucratic reasons I had to move to another part of town, away from the internet until now.

So to today’s post.

By definition, hilltops tend to be quite picturesque when covered with ancient limestone dwellings clinging to the rock face all the way down a multitude of narrow, steep cobblestone and pitch lanes to the central town below.

Different lanes lead off one another, passing under hairpin bend roadways suspended in thin air and every so often giving out onto breathtaking landscapes. Halfway down one set of steps would be a little triangular piazza, where two buildings would meet in an L shape and where old men would sit, sipping on drinks.

Further down, the grand staircase would sweep left and there would be a fruit stall, bar and so on, until the path at the foot of the stairs could split two ways - the steps might begin near the top of the church spire and continue down beside the building to the church entrance.

This is the route I took by chance two evenings ago, eschewing the map in favour of a sense of adventure.

Eventually decanted into the main street in the river bed which could be caught in a torrent should there be a flood, which there won’t be as the climate is too hot and one is more likely to be caught in an earthquake instead, the 37 degrees was beginning to tell and una crema-di-caffe was the only solution. Al fresco, it felt not unlike the way Sebastian Melmoth must have spent the final years of his existence.

A huge heaped bowl of spaghetti later, it was time to retrace the steps, easy enough at the beginning but the tracks spread out like the branches of trees further up so it was going to take more than a little luck and dare I say some divine guidance at these heights.

Made one error and retraced, then, beside a church on some broad sandstone steps, two girls going the other way asked me the way to House Quasimodo.

I explained that I was English and they said it was better to speak English but they weren’t English – they were French so I tried le francais on them, which produced incredulous looks. Further up the cliff, another lady also came up, asking the way to House Quasimodo and I repeated the mantra, wondering if she was French.

No, Italian.

Why had she assumed I was Italian? Do I bear a passing resemblance to a Sicilian? So we spoke in rudimentary Italian [on my side] and parted the best of friends. Every step upwards was a new doorway, some open, with people engaged in interesting pastimes, everyone sweltering in the heat.

And so back to the hilltop cave.

I once climbed Ayer’s Rock in Australia and a very interesting thing happened. We were told we’d need one litre of water to the top and another down again but I’d taken two plastic pint containers by mistake and one of them had been finished halfway up.

Sitting on the ledge, I’d sipped some more and then realized there wasn’t even enough left for the rest of the journey down. Still – it would be OK – that was only a rough guide about water anyway, wasn’t it?

The water finished quickly and maybe forty metres further down, the legs simply cramped and there I was, like a baby, with Japanese tourists in shirts and ties going the other way, politely dipping their heads as they huffed and puffed past and like a baby, I made it to the ground on all fours and crawled the hundred metres to the car.

In hot climates, as you’d know, you have to have constant water and there’s no such thing as not taking it. I’d like a centime for every bottle sold in Sicily throughout a hot summer.

So to yesterday and the adventure of the elegant lunch.

I’d promised a girl I know that I’d go looking for her – she works somewhere near this cave here – and that involved a visit to the tourist office. Armed with a crazy ballpoint line on a map, a brochure for the hotel she works in and a peaked cap, off Higham trotted, only to find the piazza, the palazzo, an airconditioned bar, a cold coffee and her.

There is a tradition in all hot countries [of a certain decency] of the midday siesta but in my case, it’s been refined to prima siesta, [following elevenses] and seconda siesta, [following lunch]. Only right, wouldn’t you say?

In the prima siesta, having traipsed up that hill again, I thought it meet and right to go through the hotel’s brochure and correct the mistakes in English, which would either be welcomed or would brand me forever as a smarta—e in their eyes. Back down the hill to the hotel once more, I met the owners, was shoved into a chair and forced to eat a delish piadina lunch with two young ladies who’d just come off work.

But the piece de resistance was later, around 5 p.m., when the great trek with backpack to the other end of town took place, up hill and down dale, to meet up with Welshcakes and be presented with a flask of her homemade wine – is there anything that lady can’t turn her hand to [?] - before the return hike in the cool of the evening, around 9 p.m. which didn’t actually occur as I was kindly given a lift.

Today the task is to try to get an internet connection again and visit you at the same time. Bet you’re holding your breath in anticipation.

12 comments:

  1. Glad to hear you are safe and well James. I like to consider myself European and it's great to meet up with new people and strike up a "conversation", in spite of the language barrier.

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  2. Glad that your major dramas are hydration not starvation.

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  3. 'Keep running up that hill...'
    You are going to be fit.

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  4. Hi James - I'm one of Welshcakes' commentators and very relieved to see you back on air - there are many of us rooting for you in every way.

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  5. Great to see you back online. Lovely photo - almost a montage of buildings.

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  6. Sounds like quite and adventure, I don't think I would have made it in all that heat!

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  7. That sounds like fun :)

    I am very jealous you have all this beautiful country in which to explore!

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  8. Looks like a truly lovely place to visit.
    O/T....nice avatar Bunny :)

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  9. Very hilly place Sicily, in spots. Of course it makes for a much more interesting landscape than the flat, if difficult to get traverse. Imagine life there a hundred years ago before there was an alternative to foot travel.

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  10. Thanks, people. Will visit as soon as I can.

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