Remains of the sixth c BC Temple of Apollo on Ortigia |
Teatro Greco, Siracusa |
In the early morning of my second day in Siracusa I awoke, listened to the sounds of the waves for a bit, then opened my windows and saw the sunrise. Breathtaking!
Sunrise from my tiny terrace |
I stopped almost immediately, as I wanted to look at the Temple of Apollo (see photo above), seen almost immediately upon entering the island, a reminder of just how far back Siracusa's history takes one. Not much is left of it, though it is still impressive, but in the Museo Archeologico a model of what it probably looked like reveals a massive structure held up by sturdy Doric columns.
Temple of Apollo as it would have looked in its heyday |
The market in Ortigia |
More of the market in Ortigia |
Still more of the market in Ortigia |
Piazza Duomo, Duomo facae on right |
Doric pillars along the nave of the cathedral |
At 11 am I was able to enter the much smaller church of Santa Lucia alla Badia, at the other end of Piazza Duomo, which houses a painting by Caravaggio.
Santa Lucia alla Badia |
On then to the Galleria Regionale di Palazzo Bellomo which was...well, regional, mostly unknown or very little-known artists, mostly Renaissance, mostly religious, snd frankly not all that interesting. In almost every room, along with the paintings, there were also other rather interesting silver pieces, intricately created ships, for example, in a special temporary exhibit. The most impressive works of art, including an Annunciation by Antonello da Messina, were saved for last. Nothing brilliant, but a nice way to pass the better part of an hour.
By this time I was getting hungry. I'd been out and about for three hours and was also ready for a rest, so I headed back in the direction of the hotel and stopped at a cafe across the street from the Temple of Apollo. I had a panino and an Italian beer, which was very tasty but which made me very sleepy, so I hurried back to the hotel for a well-deserved nap.
I headed out again at about 3 pm in search of the rail station and also to get a sense of the way to the Museo Archeologico and the Teatro Greco where I was headed the next day. I found the station without much difficulty and discovered there were only two people in the queue for tickets ahead of me - a cynch! They were in fact together, I'm guessing a father and son, and as contrary a pair as you could hope to stand behind in line. While I could understand little of what they were actually saying to the poor man behind the counter, they seemed to be taking out all sorts of anger at the rail system on him alone. It had taken me about 20 minutes to walk to the station from my hotel, but I waited nearly a half hour for these two to get whatever was on their chests off! He must have been glad to see me, as I had written my order very clearly, and it took me only two minutes to purchase my ticket for Catania. As I turned away from the window I saw the father and son team waiting behind me - they were not finished yet! I felt really sorry for the attendant, as he was probably in for another half hour of haranguing!
I had much more trouble finding my way to the street that would lead me next day to the Museo and Teatro. In fact I did NOT find it, and instead headed to the Foro Siracusano, now a large park, in the very old days the city's agora.
Ancient columns in the Foro Siracusano |
There is little evidence of that now, except for a few columns in one section of the park. I had been walking a good bit in my fruitless search and decided I'd claim a park bench and sit for a bit, maybe eat the apple in my bag, relax for a peaceful half hour. I found a bench but gradually discovered that nearly all the other benches were taken up by derelicts and others who, like the father and son in the station, were having vehement arguments about nothing that I could understand. When I sat down they all turned and looked at me! I felt like I was in a western film, a stranger walking into a saloon, and everyone turns ominously! So I got up from my bench and left this strange scene as quickly as I had come. Then I tried for a bit longer to find the elusive street which would lead me next day to my touring destination, when I heard a woman's voice behind me, turned and saw a tough-looking, small, middle-aged Siciliana, wearing, it seemed to me, a lot of make-up.
She: (several rapid-fire phrases in Italian that I could not understand).
Me: Scusi, non parlo bene Italiano.
She AH! English!...Moglie? (that means "Are you married?")
Me: What? No, no...
She: Mangiare? (that means "Do you want to eat?")
Me: No...OH! No, no...grazie!
And off I walked quickly -- "Mangiare?!" Eat what!? I had just been proposition by a hooker! Had she been in the park, hunting for prey, and spotted me? She actually tried to catch up with me, but to quote Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream, "my legs are longer...to run away!" And so I did!
By this time I was beginning to feel a little like Antipholus of Syracuse in Comedy of Errors, who finds all sorts of strange things happening to him in Ephesus -- here am I Dottore Gianni of Ithaca...finding all sorts of strange things happening in Siracusa! I decided to leave the somewhat grim realities of the mainland portion of the city again quickly, and scurried once more back over the bridge to the dreamy Isle of Ortigia.
And back to the Fonte Aretusa, as by now it was nearing sundown. I decided that I'd become part of the ritual watch of the setting sun. I found myself a great table outside at the Caffe Alfeo and ordered the aperitivo della casa, which as usual was served with munchies, in this case small bowls: peanuts, pistachios and olives.
The drink was a delicious concoction, partly blood-orange juice, part booze - perfect for the occasion -it even looked like the color of the setting sun! I sipped and I watched, the people passing and sitting at cafe tables near me as well as the sinking sol, until it had set. Another beautiful clear day, another beautiful sunset. A man, even a dottore, could get used to this! Once the sun had set about 9/10 of my fellow participants in the ritual high-tailed it, but I lingered to see how the colors of sun and sea would transform themselves after the sun was down. See my reward just below. looks like a Rothko, yes?
When I chose to leave my table it was still not time for a proper supper, but I had seen a place down the promenade that advertised itself as a pizzeria as well as a ristorante, and which also advertised that its kitchen was open all day, so I thought I'd try. The waiter I spoke with was friendly and apologetic, explainig t0 me that there was no pizza today -- but that there would be tomorrow...curious.
I DID find pizza at the Vecchio Pub. I had looked at this place for lunch, mainly because it was piping Louis Armstrong out its doors to welcome people.
The Vecchio Pub |
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