cycling in Sicily

...modestly there are sometimes great ideas that are smashing through my head. The problem is that not often I succeed to let them out. This time, I'm not sure how it happened, I made it. So I finaly find myself on the ship that goes to Sicily...only my, myself and I. It felt so good. Ok, ok, I must admit...I was not alone. There was also Samantha with me. What do you mean by; "who's Samantha?". Well, when I decidet to get to Sicily by myself, I was not convincing enough for my girlfriend, so she immediately thought that I was going to have a nice and beautifully organized holiday with my lover...called Vanessa, Samantha, Sylvana, or what ever kind of an esotic and sexy name of a supergirl. Hm...I liked the idea, but not the company, so therefore I was forced to give one of this names to my bicycle, that was my only company for ten days. Who knows why I choose Samantha? So nice, tall, skinny, penetrating green eyes, shrouded in mistery, silky and profumed skin, with hairs that...I think I'm going into a wrong direction. Pardon me. Sicily, here I come...

...I reached Palermo in the morning, took a short tour and convinced myself that it would be better to start the proper tour and leave the visit of the city for the last day, when i should turn back here and get the boat back to the continent. My schedule was more inaccurate than a flight of a chicken, but at the end i decided to do the tour of the island in counterclockwise. This is how I start getting lost in a neighbourhood where conscious I would never get it, not even with a fast car. But it was only my stupid fear, because actually I found only love signs and nice people that helped me get out of the crowded city.

 I reach the road sign of the end of Palermo after 16 troubled km. Actually now I'm at the start...let's go.

 ...I visit nice places, beautiful villages, meet other kind persons and start understanding that I haven't understood the way the sicilian streets are made. I just can't believe all these ups and downs on a street that follows the coast. How is it possible to start several times from the sea level, and I mean my right pedal was practically in the water, and get up on a 300 m high hill, obviously all in a few km, and then burn my brakes down to reach the water once again??? On google earth it was different.

 ...however, before getting used to it, I discover a slight, little, delightful obstacle in front of me. Taking a short look to the photo above, considering my huge life experience, what do you think; where am I headed? Do I move from left to right, or from right to left? Those who came to school with me, with the help of some simple "Lehrsatz", could easily come to a conclusion. I can give you another little help: the cars coming from the opposite direction were wet and had the wipers on..."elementary, my dear Watson"
After about 90 km I decide to take on my spartan water clothing...more or less a bag with three holes. Just turned back to light after passed my head through the middle hole, I discover in a very excited way that I'm in front of a camping place gate. Call it destiny, call it luck, call it whatever you like, but I'm getting in. Incredible, but it's all for me. I'm alone here. The guy that works here gives me the keys from the gate that gets to the sea and the keys of the main entrance, just in case I wanna get out before his arrival in the morning. Fantastic...for one night I'm the lord of Castellammare del Golfo.

 The second day, so happy of my situation, decision and guiding angels I get on the road again...

 ...continue doing my unbelieveble ups and scary downs...

 ...find the wind this time as "my ally". I can not believe it. The wind blows from behind. There is something wrong going on. Maybe I'm riding into the wrong direction. I'm getting more and more concerned. Something bad will happen if nothing changes. I'm not used to ride with the wind from behind. Somebody help me. I perfectly understand the old man cursing for all his stuff blown away by the wind. I almost try to give him a cursing hand...

 ...I pass places where I hope, and if I would have been a good christian I would have prayed, for the good sake of my beloved Samantha. Here I sometimes felt like a white fly. Let's hope that this ghost town ends...











 ...and then I'm finally in Trapani. By the way, that's Samantha.
Not the statue. The one in front of it...

...once again, my beloved Samantha...
 

 It would have been a shame and a big disrespect to ride from Trapani, the images above, to get to the Saline di Trapani, images below, without getting absolutely wet. Thanks to an unforgettable thunderstorm it was possible for me to wash my underpants while riding. This is an amazing enterprise that only superheroes can achieve. I had my classic bag on that was covering me just like a bell...but, but Samantha's hot wheels were thinking about the refreshing coming from below ...

...however, I had enough time to get dry again...

...the fact is that I searched for a camping place also for this night...and fortunately, not without a serious commitment I found it. Here I had two neighbours and a zealous cat to help me with the mounting of the tent.

Third day. I'm can't stop kissing my hands for the brilliant idea of taking the tour in counterclockwise. The wind blows like crazy from behind...

...do you read my satisfaction?

...mmm, Samantha...let me give you a sweet kiss...

I met Wolfgang and Silvia the third day after 145 km. We had a very pleasant evening talking about our lives, our passions and pleasures. Immediately I felt like a stupid, little sissy, good for nothing. Why? Because THEY were people that really ride, not me. Their intention was to get back to Germany ON their bicycle. But they were used to do it. They crossed each continent that god brought on earth with their bicycles. Just take a look to his one. It seems camouflaged close to that fence...all covered with wood.
Poor me, that was not it...the night went on together with a third german friend met on the camping place. He was there with his bus, doing his usual six month of holidays. Jumping over these "painful details" we get to the real staff...three bottles of red wine. I was praying; "holy left hand, stop my right hand of bringing the wine to my lips". No success at all. I not even had dinner that night. Practically Wolfgang and Silvia had one glass of wine. The rest was carefully poured from the precious bottles in our shameless and greedy bodies. During that night I discovered once again how small this world is. This guy's ex wife was born in Kronstadt, were humbly I was born. Uuu...however, at a certain hour of that night I was not sure whether I had a wife or not.

Starting my fourth day with all that wine in my body was not the maximum of expression. With other words, I have "no idea" what could have caused this weakness in my legs. Compliments were flying to my address. Doing sport and drinking like a dehydrated camel...what more proper could you imagine?

...but I proudly reach scala dei turchi...

...the wind, the wind is still my friend.
I see bicycles coming from my opposite direction. Riders have all kind of strange positions and shapes searching for some aerodynamics and pedal in the first gear only because they don't have a smaller one. I can not believe that they are not on my side and me not on theirs...







I once had a ficus tree in a corner of my room. It was a little bit diffrent then this one.

...Agrigento

"Hello, may I have a ticket for visiting the Valle dei Templi?... but you know, I'm with my bicycle and would not like to leave it outside"
"Sure, there is no problem, you can buy a ticket at my colleague"

ONE METER AWAY

"Hello, can I have a ticket..."
"Yes, 15€, but the bike must remain outside"
I bend towards the first guy and make sure that my face expresses curiosity, perplexity, inability of understanding, fury and a small dosage of desperation. He just raises quickly his shoulders and offers me a one second long smile. I'm going to drink from anger... No, no, no it's not what you believe. Only half liter of cold, decent coca cola. I'm pretty sure that with an exceptional burp directed towards his face I would have changed his hair style for life and reviewed his ideas from "no bicycles can get in" into "only bicycles can get in"

On the fifth day I have Ragusa at 70km as the first target. After 90km I found a road sign that indicate me Ragusa after 8km. This day I understood that not after each climb you can find a descent, but another climb and then another one...

Kids don't do this at home

I just abandon the idea of getting to Ragusa. While with a certain dissatisfaction, I was planing my next goal, a ciclist overtakes me and asks me were I'm headed. I will make it easy. He invites me to visit his town (on my list). He shows me the main things, best places, panoramic views and invites me to taste the chocolate.




                       

 Modica is the town of chocolate...

...we get into this fancy place where they produce, sell, offer for tasting chocolate and traditional sicilian sweets. This is the moment when I decide what to bring home...chocolate. Do you know how it ends? After a tough fight, this guy, Calogero, wins and pays the whole thing. Everything that we have eaten, drank and my gifts for home. Amazing people

Another beautiful day full of the fresh perfume of the lemon trees

...typical face of  "care bani?"
Call me and I will tell you the joke

Noto is absolutely the baroque jewel of Sicily

After such a rich day, beautifully lived, full of emotions, I slowly start to feel some changes in the luck that accompanied me until now. I pass Siracusa, a very nice town, but far too crowded for my taste. Once again a town where I have troubles for getting out. Finally the town ends and I notice an appreciated surprise in front of my eyes. The last village on my schedule for that day was 20 km in front of me. Now I only have to follow the coast. But...ups, this street brings me to the highway. Oh, damn, also this other one. I can not get with the bicycle on the highway! Where the heck is the normal road? This was the moment when I would have changed the good old paper map with an bad new phone with a worthless GPS in it.
It was impossible for me to find the street that gets from point A to point B. Yes, but I'm a wise guy. I notice a point C, 7km away on the map, that has an obvious road that takes to point B. What are 7km after 125 km already done today?!?!?! Bloody map. Once again point C was up in heaven. I destroyed my first gear to get there. Arrived there, I logically realized that the road to point B is not that clear. Other 5km of roundabouts, hills and superhills and...no, no, nooooo the highway again. The sun was slowly going down and my cursings fast going up. Oh, Oh...there is a narrow road beneath the highway. That must be it. I was almost happy riding towards the sunset, when a big black shape gets in the middle of the street. I can not focus it well because of the sun behind it. When it starts its demoniac barking I do understand that I'm in big shit. "Think Miky, think. What can you do? You have two options. Go on, or turn around and consider all the km done thrown away". Ok, with shaking knees I decided that I have to handle the beast. I was moving so slowly towards it, that I could have been easily crowned as king of all sloth. With the voice of a weak old lady I was trying to calm down the beast."Here good doggy...nice doggy...uuu, what a beautiful doggy..."The fact is, that getting closer and closer, another unexpected shape got materialized behind the dog. I was about to fall on my knees and cry like a little boy. A barrier was closing the road...end of the road.
No, I will not cry. I'm a man, A strong man. A very strong man. So I took out of my body and soul all the maledictions and curses that I was capable of, and threw them into the four winds and against everything that was in a range of sixtyseven km around me. The dog disappeared like Speedy Gonzales and I remained impressed and almost scared in front of these hidden powers that I discovered cultivating inside me. Destroyed, after 150 km I mount my tent close to the sea, with a nice view to the Etna volcano on the left side.

The morning after...
I hardly, but very hardly find the way to point B.

...and reach Catania

Sadly, this is the last day and it was not possible to complete the entire tour of the island. I have to take the train back to Palermo. At 8 o'clock in the evening my ship will bring me back to the continent.

Hm...but...why don't we give some colour to life?

So: I buy one ticket for me and one for my bicycle (Samantha). When I got to the train (practically a bus on a rail) the conductor looks to the bicycle with that kind of an eye that tells me that his not agree with it on the train. My blood started boiling. "Look Sir, you would better bring a nice smile on your face, cause I have a ticket here and I'm not afraid to use it". "Sure, Sure. No problem at all"
Let me go on.
I do not even find a nice position for the next three hours of travelling, that the train burns its clutch.
I change the train and get to a town in the middle of nowhere.
There, a bus waits for me and brings me to Palermo.
Obviously late and obviously there is no refund.
"Sir, because of the train I lost the ship"
"No, no. We carried out our duty. We brought you to destination. Do you already have the ticket for the ship?"
"No"
"Good. At least you haven't lost that money"

...people scratch their heads in front of this adventure






Arrived in Palermo I take out Samantha from the bus and...have a flat tyre.

Arrived to the harbour my ship was long gone, but there is another one that gets to the continent. There is no choise, I buy a ticket. Sadly this ship will bring me to Genova, far to North...far to late: after 20 hours.

Reached Genova late evening of the next day I discover that there are no trains going South with possibility to carry bicycles until the morning after.

I risk and get into a Intercity.

I'm at home. I spent less hours in travelling from Beijing, passing and changing the aeroplane in Hong Kong, then getting home then from Sicily.
                     

Conclusion:  800km of a fabulous experience.
                       48 hours of sitting on a saddle that made my legs definitely longer and planted my bowls
                                      close to the inner side of my belly button.
                       big, big, big satisfaction.
                       ready to repeat every meter of my trip...almost.

This is roughly how things went. If you want details don't hesitate to contact me.
 There is very much more to tell.

Cheers