On the bus to Sicily as the train connections to get from Bari to Sicily are far too numerous. Tho I am greatly regretting the fact that I did not consider the unpaved conditions of italy's roads before booking a 15 hour bus ride. I keep telling myself I will be there in no time, but I can't seem to believe my own lies.
Sicily is supposed to be one of the poorest parts of Italy, so one would imagine cities that don't support the population, that are dirty and unkept. However, this is not the case. Trapani, the salt mine town on the upper west corner of Italy is I think the most enchanting and picturesque city I've been to. Everything is grande, weeping elements of a luxurious past, of court yards, operas and orchestras, late night strolls thru lamp lit streets and busy cafes. There are no stop signs, just intersecting streets that both sides should stop for but rarely do. There is one bank after another, which apparently has alot to do with the numerous mafia families, groups, whatever, cleaning money. There are signs for everything, plaques stating the historical context of every note worthy structure or place, which is a pretty rare thing to find. This is so pleasantly far from what I expected. Completely magical.
My hosts are awesome and today is the first chance I've gotten to just chill and wander around alone. It's been a non stop jam party, drumming on everything, multiple guitars, drinks, hash and amazing food, every day. None of them speak much English but we're getting by with my now exceptionally good charades/ thesaurus / italian - english dictionary / google translating skills. And what do we need words for when we have music anyway?
Not very warm here, the wind makes it especially cold but perfect for the kite flying festival that's going on right now. I am waiting un-patiently for the day I can throw my stuff in storage and live on the beach. Alas, not until Spain I think. Changing alot in my itinerary as a rainbow gathering is taking place in Spain in August, new moon to full moon. So there will be enough time surely.
Was supposed to head to Catania but found some good times in Palermo so I'm sticking around. Went to a hostel for a night of down time which ended up being quiet the opposite. Some English girl I was bunking with, plus a bunch of other hostelers went out for a nite on the town which I in turn regretted severely the next day in its entirety. Tho we still made it to the beach despite our hangovers. The english girl had a brazilian puppy following her every move. I seriously think I have never heard anyone tell such long and pointless stories in my life. He was a source of entertainment then and even still when he is gone. Then I had to move out of the hostel becuz it was booked and into a couchsurf. Now I'm moved to another couchsurf and am currently realising, there is not a single nite I haven't been completely wasted in this city. Greece, all about taking your time, sipping with your meal. Italy, about getting completely obliterated. I'm on day 6 of it, in this city alone, Trapani was also a marathon. Crazy doing this every nite, 2€ drinks. Every one smokes out in the open here, the cops aren't bothered about catching smokers, just dealers. In contrast to that freedom, everyone wears an obscene amount of clothes and are mildly judgmental. Do not where shorts in Sicily. Lesson learned. Still, no matter what I wear I am gawked at with constant 'bellissimo', 'fragola', 'caio bella'. It is hands down the most attention I have ever received from simply walking down the street. Flattering at first, gross as time wears on.
Amazing how after discovering I don't speak Italian, men will still press on to communicate. Unless your gonna get out a sketch pad so we play pictionary, then no matter what you do, it will still be lost on me. Truly baffles me how speaking another language is so foreign to some that they think if they just keep talking then eventually I will understand. I don't keep rambling on in English, so, why!? I have only learned the basics of Italian, lighter, papers, strawberry, beautiful, where? Please and Thank uuuuuuuu.
Men here call girls strawberries. Fraaaaaagola
That's how I learned that. Poor Angela ( my host ), my host spends 90% of the time translating both gross comments and compliments to me. Sometimes literally, 'compliments to you, beautiful'.
Me nahhh.
Funny how that is catching on everywhere I go. Especially in Italy cuz mi scusi, mi piace, me nahhh, pretty similar structure. Plus, me nahhh, is so necessary here.
The things that get lost in translation make me cry laughing everyday. It's one of my favourite things and has created sayings I will likely carry on for the rest of my life. Angela, the girl I'm staying with, has taught me so much and vice versa. The apartment she lives in is beautiful and I have my own room, tho we spend little time at home. Waking up, going out for happy hour then getting home at sunrise. I'm really not sure how much longer I can keep this up, but somehow, it happens everyday.
The mafia presence is known and respected here by locals. Some places you must pay to protect your car when parking, usually from the person you're paying. On every street there is no shortage of people who 'help' you park or mostly just wave their hands around in different directions while u figure it out for urself.
There is also no shortage of what the down to earth locals call, Tosha. Preppy dudes in tight pants, wearing fake designer and pink and purple for this season. They dress just like the store windows and seriously, I can't wear pants that tight. It's strange and depresses me equally as much as gangster wear in the western world does.
Off to attempt day 6 of crowded streets and copious drinking. Pure reggae today.
Reggae party failed.
I'm getting out of this city tomorrow.
Health hazard being here.
I ended up staying a week when it was supposed to be just 1 day. I found the Italian equivalent of the Bermuda triangle here and made some really great friends while getting lost.
9 hours by train to Salerno tomorrow and on to the Amalfi coast!
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