There is no sign. No conventional marking or advertising. The hours are not posted. It is like Brigadoon in this way: part of the magic…
Then there was Messina, whence they jumped to Zakinthos, a Greek thing and thus within the sphere of Anastasia. We were in Messina, on Sicily….
It is our last day in Palermo and we are seated in the cheery, maraschino red dining room of the Seralcadio Bed and Breakfast when…
Two weeks and one day in Italy convince us that the people here are some of the warmest and most helpful of any whose company…
“Often we pass beside happiness without seeing it, without looking at it, or even if we have seen and looked at it, without recognizing it.”…
Ships stop in Palermo. That’s why horse-drawn carriages still roam the streets. The morning we got off the ferry, dozens of one-horse buggies–called mateos–were lined up…
Palermo feels like a place where schemes are hatched. Unexpected turns, the ancient beside the modern, the grit of daily struggle right in front of…
Pizza. You have an image, don’t you? I write the word and a picture appears in your mind. Perhaps it is the family favorite from…
Welcome to Palermo, an operatic city if ever there was one. Make your way from the docks into the grand, dilapidated theater that is Sicilian…
After this it was sheer travel along the North African littoral, and the Mediterranean, and Sicily, and Greece. This: Tangier. This: the death of Don…
Recent Comments