Kilkenny: A Castle and A Cathedral

3/29/10
We somehow made it safely out of Dublin and onto the motorway and were excitedly headed for the medieval town of Kilkenny. Upon arriving there we found the hostel, after some delay and a quick stop at the tourist information center, checked in, dropped our bags and headed out to find a decent pub to have lunch. We decided on one of the pubs on the main road. Kristin ordered a bowl of soup and I went for a chicken and ham vol au vent. Before our food arrived we started inspected the bowl filled with condiments that sat on our table. In it were the normal things one might find in little packets on a table, ketchup (tomato sauce as it is called in Europe), mayonnaise, malt vinegar, tartar sauce, and brown sauce. Kristin, like me and probably you, had no idea what brown sauce was, and from the list of ingredients I have to say it didn’t sound very appetizing either.











Me being the child that I am offered Kristin one euro to finish the contents of one packet of brown sauce, which she happily agreed to until she got her first taste of it. Her reaction to the taste was well worth my euro, but to her credit, she finished every last drop. After lunch we headed over to the famed castle of Kilkenny. The castle itself sat on a marvelous plot of land, just above the town center, and right beside the river.



A gorgeous setting I must say. I was slightly disappointed with the castle, which, having been refurbished seemed much more like a museum than a castle. This, however, did not stop me from running around screaming, “King in the castle! King in the castle!”


As we left the castle it began to rain so we headed back to the hostel for a much anticipated nap. Most of you reading this know how much I love napping, and this was one of the most epic naps ever. Waking from my afternoon slumber before Kristin, I did a load of wash and some writing till she woke up. Once she was awake we headed out to find something to eat. We decided on a nearby pub called The Playwright. When we ordered our beers we were sadly informed that they were no longer serving food. Apparently our naps were just a few minutes too epic. Satisfied to have a meal of Guinness instead we returned to our seats. About ten or fifteen minutes later the barman came to our table with a plate of delicious chicken wings, sausages, chicken nuggets, and sandwiches and wraps. There was a large party there that night and the pub had prepared more food than was needed, and the staff, knowing that we had come in search of food let us eat it for free. Just a small example of the Irish hospitality. After having our share of Guinness and little snacks we headed back to the hostel and off to sleep. A side not must be added here about the crazy Irish guys that were staying in our dorm. Earlier in the day, after I had already woke up from my nap, three Irish guys checked into our dorm. They came in quite loud and rambunctious, very excited for their night out on the town of Kilkenny. They were what actually woke Kristin from her own epic nap. They let us know they were heading out for the night and told us to meet up later if we were interested. I make note of this here because shortly after having fallen asleep I was woken up by these guys stumbling back into our dorm even louder than they had before. One of them tried to climb into the top bunk next to my bed as the other yanked him by the pants from the bunk and threw him to the floor. They continued to wrestle on the floor for a good five minutes before the third broke it up. They then began fighting over the bunk above Kristin’s bed, once again throwing each other to the floor for another tussle. This all ended with the drunkest walking over to my bed and screaming in a friendly way, “Goodnight California” and then over to Kristin’s bed for a “Goodnight Boston” before literally falling into an open bunk for sleep. I woke up in the morning to him accusingly asking his friend, “Did you put me to bed last night?! Shit! I don’t even remember coming back her last night!” To which his friend so calmly replied, “Well everyone else in the room remembers you coming back here last night!” Classic. So with that, we were awake and making our way to the St Canice’s Cathedral.

We had assumed that St. Canice’s Cathedral was the largest church tower in the town and walked toward it, only to find out it was St. Mary’s Parish. We then made our way back across town and to the right cathedral. Upon entering the cathedral grounds we first walked through the cathedral’s cemetery .

Spending a few minutes wandering between the ancient headstones, we entered the cathedral proper. Upon entering, the lady at the desk sold us our tickets and told us a little about the church before sending us on our way. As we turned to walk away, recalling that we said we were American, she called us back saying, “Oh! I should tell you this. We have here Obama’s ancestor’s tomb”.


She walked us over to the tomb and explained that his great great grand uncle was a bishop of Kilkenny and that one of his great aunts still lives in the town, and she, like him, talks too much. Apparently, he his visiting the town next year to visit the tomb.


We took a stroll around the beautiful cathedral before heading outside to the tower that sits in the center of the cemetery. Climbing the over 100 feet to the top of the tower was interesting.


There are six flights of stairs that get steeper with each flight as the tower narrows at the top. The view from the top is absolutely breathtaking, and we were lucky enough to have a sunny day for the 360 degree view.




On the way back down Kristin actually had to climb into a window to allow some people who were coming up to pass through the narrow passageway.


After completing our visit to the Cathedral we jumped in the car and tried to remember to stay to the left as we continued on to the town of Cork and the nearby Blarney Stone.

Stay To The Left. Stay To The Left. Stay To The Left.

3/29/10
Next morning Kristin and I made our way down to the car rental place, filled out the appropriate forms to rent a car in Ireland (showed a valid drivers license and signed our names), and away we went. It has been three months since I have driven a car and over two of those months have been spent in countries that drive on the left side of the road, so I would like to think I had an advantage over most other right side of the road drivers from the get go. This proved to be wrong when I went to make my first lane change, not two blocks from the rental place, and turned on the windshield wipers instead of the blinker! All the while all I could focus on was my own voice in my head saying, “Stay to the left. Stay to the left. Stay to the left.”

A Friendly Pint and the Jameson Distillery

3/29/10
If you’ve been following my story for a while now you probably recall Teresa, the Irish girl I met in New Zealand who put me up in her flat in Sydney for a few days. If you’ve just joined the story already in progress, while I was in New Zealand I met an Irish girl named Teresa that was on her way to Sydney to study for a year, and offered me a place to stay when I reached Sydney. True to her word she let me crash at her place a couple of days and told me I should look up her uncle who owned a pub when I was in Dublin. Assuming it would be rude not to, I headed to the pub for a pint and to introduce myself. I met both her uncle and her cousin and enjoyed some friendly conversation over a pint before heading out to start my last day in Dublin. Kristin and I sorted all the details for the rental car and mapped out our plan of attack for seeing the country, and decided since it was rainy and cold, that today would be a great day to go to the Jameson Distillery. We joined the hop on/hop off bus at stop number one and rode it around town getting a narrative tour of the city before finally reaching stop number 21 where we for the first time hopped off. Once here we had to wait for our tour to start so agreed to warm up with what was the best Irish coffee either of us has ever had. Once the tour began I was selected to be one of the lucky eight who got to do a whisky tasting at the end before enjoying my free/included in admission glass of Jamesons.


The tour itself seemed more like a pitch to get you to never purchase another whiskey other than Jamesons, but was informative and enjoyable none the less. At the end I was treated to my taste test which put Jamesons head to head against Johnny Walker Black Label and Jack Daniels.



Bert, if you’re reading this, sorry they made me say Jamesons was the best whisky in the world before allowing me my “free” glass. Seeing as we had a big day of renting a car and attempting to make it safely to Kilkenny on the wrong side of the road ahead of us, we decided to make our way back to the hostel, have a little dinner, and call it an early night.

St. Patrick’s day In Dublin: A Real Punch in the Head

3/29/10
I woke up around 8:30 the morning of St Patrick’s day with one of the worst headaches of my life. It felt as though my brain was about twelve times larger than my skull, or better yet, as if someone had just punched me in the head. I took two advil and went back to sleep. Elizabeth, sleeping a few bunks away, was not feeling any better and did the same. I woke up again around 11:00am and though my headache was gone, I was still quite hungover. We decided to head down by the river in search of breakfast. After taking down a plate of sausages, bacon, eggs, and toast washed down with OJ, coffee, and loads of water, I was now ready for my day. We headed up to a local pub to meet Kristin and have a pint. Another pint later we headed back to the river and found a three story pub that had live music and was jam packed with people. Hanging here for one more pint, we decided to head back to our hostels to take a nap before going out for the evening. Walking back into our room Elizabeth and I couldn’t help but laugh as the other ten people in our room apparently already had the same idea. So joining the rest of them we too slipped off into some much needed rest. Waking up around eight I headed out to find something to eat before we ventured back out for the night. Standing on the sidewalk enjoying my burger I took notice of all the signs of a drinking holiday. Across the street was a guy stumbling around trying to figure out how to get his pants buttoned back up after urinating on the side of a wall. To his left by about twenty feet was a couple in a screaming argument, girl balling her eyes out and guy trying to keep himself upright. To his left by only ten feet was a group of guys laughing hysterically as they took pictures of him and offered him a pull off their bottle of Jamesons. On the corner maybe thirty feet to my right was a girl crying on the phone either to her boyfriend or girlfriends about something that I’m sure didn’t really matter. And approaching on my left was a guy who was clearly arguing with one of his buddies who was making a futile attempt to calm him down, and a third friend stumbling quietly behind them. I could see the angry one was clearly hammered and beyond upset so I decided it would be in my best interest to not pay attention, look straight ahead, and mind my own business. As I leaned forward to take another bite of my burger it happened. All I remember was a crack against my head, a ringing in my ears, and a slight graying to my vision as I was thrown to my right. I just got punched in the head! As I turned back to the direction of the punch all I saw was the friend who was quietly walking behind the other two standing there as if, like me, he was trying to make sense of what just happened. I then looked to my right to see that the asshole who hit me was already at the corner standing next to the girl crying on the phone. Not talking to her I might add. I stood there for a moment trying to make sense of what just happened and trying to decide what I was going to do about it, before running over to the corner, throwing my burger in his face in some attempt to blind him before hitting him square on the chin. A blow that dropped his drunk ass to the floor as I mounted him and got in three or four more good punches before his buddies pulled me off of him. He laid there moaning with his face covered in blood, some mine, some his, while his friends stood there, I assume deciding whether to kick my ass or help him up. They quickly helped him up and ran off around the corner. Okay, at least that’s what happened in my head. In reality, I looked to the corner and saw them still arguing as if nothing had happened, looked down and saw my burger was not only still in my hand but was still intact as well. I decided to take another bite. After finishing my burger I headed back to the hostel where I was to meet Kristin. As I passed the pub next to the hostel, an Irish couple stopped me and asked how I was enjoying Ireland, to which I replied, “It’s great aside from just getting punched in the head by some random Irish guy!” They were appalled. They asked what happened, I told them, and they began apologizing on behalf of the entire country. I told them it was okay, I don’t judge a country on the actions of one asshole, and that everything else had so far been amazing. They weren’t having it though. Explaining that that is not how Ireland or the Irish are and then insisted on bringing me into the pub to meet their friends and to buy me a pint. With my head hurting, my neck sore, and a fist sized knot developing on the side of my head I agreed to let them buy me a pint, mostly in fear they might punch me if I resisted. Kidding. We went in and true to their word they bought me a pint and continued to apologize until I had drank the last sip. As I left they wished me safe travels and hoped that I would forget the incident and fall in love with the country they were so proud to be a part of. Fortunately, things only got better from here. Kristin showed up only a few minutes later, and Elizabeth joined us as we set out in search of a good bar to celebrate the holiday. We decided on Legend’s Restaurant and Bar which had live music and was packed as well. Once here, I took a shot to help my head and we all enjoyed a few beers and the live music. We made friends with locals, sang along to the music, and had a great night. After some time here we headed back to the bar next to the hostel for last beer before calling it a night. All said and done, it was a great day. As for getting punched in the head in Dublin on St Patty’s Day, well, I couldn’t make up a better story if I tried.

The Festivities Continue

3/28/10 St. Patrick’s Day Eve is almost as big of a night out, if not bigger than St Patrick’s Day itself here in Dublin. The locals told me that since everyone has to work the day after the holiday, but no one works the day of it, they can really go big the night before and nurse their hangovers the next day with a few beers before retiring early and preparing for work the next day. We found this to be very true. Our group found a great bar with live music down in the Temple Bar Area and decided to head in. Upon ordering our beers one of us had bumped into this giant Danish guy with a shaved head and beard to his chest. He had standing next to him his brother, who looked the same, and two other guys that though not as massive, were tall and extremely muscular. I immediately thought this is not going to go well. That was probably my initial reaction because upon walking into the club I bumped into a girl and almost got into a fight with her boyfriend because he thought I didn’t say I’m sorry. I couldn’t have been more wrong. After talking with the Danes for a while we invited them to join us upstairs where we were trying to get a table for all of us to sit at. I honestly couldn’t tell you how long we sat there, all I can say is that we had an amazing time. The Danes were great guys, so happy, funny, and just genuinely loved life and even more so loved to laugh. We all bonded that night, sharing stories, buying each other beers, arm wrestling, and just laughing. A lot. Mostly laughing I think at our weak attempts to beat the giants at arm wrestling. Three out of the four of them had been in the military in Denmark and were wearing bracelets to support the troops, the injured, and their families. When I asked about them, one of the guys took them off and gave them to me, telling me that he had worn them for three years while on tour in Afghanistan, and has never taken them off. I have not taken them off since that night. Our night was coming to an end and we said our goodbyes and went in our separate directions. Walking out of the bar and into the streets, Kristin, Elizabeth, and I passed a drum circle that had formed in the street and danced to the sound of bagpipes and drums.



There must have been at least twenty five people dancing in the streets that night. All just having a good time and enjoying the freedom of being in Dublin on this the night before St. Patrick’s Day. We walked back to our hostels and made our plans to meet up in the morning, and as I fell asleep that night I couldn’t help but think this was definitely one of the most fun nights out that I have ever had!

A Kid In A Candy Store

3/28/10
I checked into the Times Hostel and headed up to my room to find Elizabeth getting ready to head out. She was from California as well, San Francisco to be exact, and we enjoyed a brief conversation as she continued getting ready. She was on her way to the Guinness Storehouse for the brewery tour with two of our other bunk mates from Italy, and asked if I would like to join. I quickly took a shower and the four of us we were on our way. Something happened to me the minute I walked into the brewery. It was as if I had been transformed into a twelve year old the moment they scanned my ticket. I know some of you may say I am like a twelve year old all of the time, but I truly felt like a twelve year old at this moment. Walking in we almost joined the first tour we saw, but instead opted to head up to the fifth floor to enjoy a pint first and then do the tour. At the bar we each ordered a Guinness and shared some delicious sandwiches before heading back down to the first floor. Here, we decided not to take the guided tour, but rather to walk on our own and just enjoy everything that Arthur Guinness had made possible for us. I was a kid in a candy shop. I was running everywhere taking pictures of everything, and just smiling from ear to ear. The second stop along the tour was a large (fifty by fifty foot) display of barley.


Without thinking I ran and jumped into it and began making “barley angels”. You may have seen the shirts or bumper stickers that say, “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy”, well, on this day I was proof of that. I could not be happier. We moved onto the next step in the brewing process which involves water and the Italians nearly had to grab me to keep me from jumping into the waterfall display.

I think they thought I was a bit crazy. No really. Next was a huge display of wood barrels, and I, like a happy little twelve year old, climbed up to the top to have my picture taken.


From there it was onto the fourth floor where we learned how to pour the perfect Guinness, which we then got to drink before heading up to the sacred seventh floor and home of The Gravity Bar.


Walking into the Gravity Bar I felt a little bit more like I was walking into a Vegas nightclub, minus the short skirts, high heels, and stuffy, too cool for school crowd. Here, instead was a circular room surrounded by windows that looked out over the city of Dublin and was filled with happy, light-hearted, and slightly buzzed people simply enjoying a damn good beer. While here the Italians seemed to drift off into their own little world and Elizabeth and I made friends with another group that was situated near the bar. This group of four had also just met each other in their hostel and decided to go do the tour together. While at the brewery they ran into Kristin from Boston, who they had met back at their hostel and happened to be at the brewery at the same time. The seven of us sat around enjoying our beers and exchanging stories of how we ended up in Dublin for St. Patty’s Day, where we had been, and where we planned to go. After some time we decided that we were all hungry and headed to a local shop to get what the locals said was “…the best fish and chips in Ireland!” Kristin and I talked most of the way to the shop and she told me that she was just two days into her five month journey around Europe by herself. We talked about her plans for Ireland and they sounded really close to what I wanted to do, so I suggested we hire a rental car and just drive for the next week. She agreed and it was done.


Next thing you know, we are all sitting on the side of the road in Dublin, eating some of the most delicious fish and chips ever, on this the night before St Patrick’s Day. I had to say to myself, “Is this really my life?”!

It All Comes Together In Dublin

3/28/10
My arrival to Ireland may have been one of the easiest so far. I walked off the plane, straight through customs (the only question asked was how long I would stay there), found a bus sitting right outside that went to a stop right in front of my hostel, and tried to check in. I was a little early to check in so the super friendly staff let me leave my bags and recommended a place for me to go get a good pint. It was the day before St. Patrick’s Day, and the streets were absolutely packed. Dublin is normally a very busy city as it is, with a college just up the road, and a business center just down the road. Add to that mix thousands of travelers from all over the world, and what you end up with is streets that are as packed as Sharkees on Saturday night. I made my way to the recommended pub that sits just over the Liffey River, and ordered my first Guinness in Ireland. It was delicious. Sitting at a nice table near a freshly stoked fire, I sipped my Guinness, pulled out my new bible (Lonely Planet Western European Guidebook), a pen and paper, and began to plot out my itinerary for Ireland. After a couple of hours and a couple of beers I had a rough idea of what I wanted to do and how many days I could do it in. Looking down at my watch I noticed it was also time for me to check into my hostel. Perfect. Everything seemed to be falling right into place.

3 Sunny Days In London. Really.

3/27/10
I honestly can’t imagine my time in London to have gone any better than it did. I originally had plans to stay with a friend of a friend, but within weeks of getting there, those plans fell through. I posted something on Facebook asking all the English friends I had made along the way if they could give me some advice and point me in the right direction as to what to do while I was there. Almost immediately, Arjun, a friend that I had made while staying in Dahab, Egypt, sent me a message saying, “Mate! You’re staying with me! Just tell me when your flight comes in and I will be there to pick you up.” True to his word, not only was he there, but he had waited at the airport for an hour and a half since my flight was delayed and I had no way to let him know. After touching down, we made the drive to his house and relaxed over a couple cocktails and discussed how absolutely amazing Egypt had been. Arjun, much like me, had one of the best trips of his life in Egypt, and he too can’t wait to go back. In the morning his hospitality continued as he offered to make breakfast, which turned out to be my first traditional English meal; beans and toast. I have to admit, when he told me that is what we would be eating I was slightly disgusted, but it actually was quite tasty. He then handed me an extra cell phone that he had just added some credit to for me to use while I stayed with him, and we headed out for a drive into the city. Once we reached London Central we agreed that we should start our day off with a pint in a true English pub and see where the day would take us. We started at Prince of Wales Pub, went for stroll through Picadilly Circus,



continued on to find an arcade to race cars and shoot pool, before finding another pub to enjoy a Guinness with some Irish folk in celebration of the upcoming St Patrick’s Day. After a pint or two, we headed into oxford Circus for a stroll around and to find a place to get some fish and chips.

I have to say, at this point they were definitely not only the biggest but the best fish and chips I have ever had. From there, fat and happy, we headed back to his house to hang out and just watch a movie since we had to wake up at 5:30am the following morning when he had to get ready for work. Again driving to the city we stopped at a coffee shop for a cup of joe and to take advantage of the free wireless connection. From there I hopped on the tube and made my way to London Central to have a nice tourist day and make my way through as many sights as I could. I started with Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard, then walked over to Westminster Abbey and Big Ben, before walking along The River Thames, passing the London Eye, and making my way into the National Gallery. Once in the gallery I relaxed a bit as I gazed upon paintings by Van Gogh, Monet, Michelangelo, DaVinci, and many others.





From the gallery I headed back to Oxford circus to have coffee with a friend I had made the previous day. After coffee I received a call from Arjun letting me know he was finished with work and that we should meet at a pub. Again his hospitality amazed me. I offered to take the tube to meet him, which was about a forty-five minute drive compared to a fifteen minute tube ride, but he insisted on me meeting me, saying there was nothing for a tourist to see near him. So it was, and almost an hour later he showed up. We shared a bottle of wine and I thanked him again and again for showing me such a great time in London. After the wine we went to the mall by his house, still another hour or so away from the city to grab a quick bite to eat and walk around. Back at his house we relaxed for a while before he headed off to bed and I enjoyed another movie before drifting off to sleep myself. The first night we had finished off the remainder of a bottle of Jack Daniels, so I had bought one for him as a thank you for taking such good care of me while I was there. When I gave it to him in the morning he was thankful, but went out of his way to tell me I didn’t need to do that, and that it was his pleasure to have helped me out. He told me he was a little nervous about inviting a perfect stranger into his house for a few days, but was glad he did it and that he had a great time. I offered to take the train to the airport so I didn’t add any more time to his already lengthy (2 hour drive) to work, but he said there was no way. Arriving at the airport, we shook hands, gave each other a man hug, wished one another well, and promised to meet up again, but next time it would be my turn to offer the hospitality. He said he would come visit in Italy or in California, or maybe even both. I replied that he always had a place to stay in either, and with a final wave was on my way. Ireland here I come…

Ci Vediamo A Presto

3/27/10
See you soon! My day in Agrigento was pretty uneventful. Actually, very uneventful. From the bus I headed down to my B&B and almost immediately set out to find another delicious pizza. Back in the hostel, where there was no tv or internet access and not one other person staying there, I read for about six hours straight finishing my last book. Being that this town shuts down around eight pm I changed my plans and decided to leave the next morning and head to Taormina. Arriving in Taormina I walked the short distance to Gianni House Hostel. I was greeted at check-in by the owner, you guessed it, Gianni, and was given a brief tour. He gave me a map and pointed me in the direction of the nearby beach, Giardini di Naxos. It was still raining so I grabbed my umbrella and headed out. Even though it was a bit cold and wet, my walk to the beach and along the esplanade was very enjoyable.


I passed many boats sitting in the sand, I assume much like me, waiting for the busier and warmer summer months to arrive to really appreciate the beauty if this town.

Passing the boats I headed down the beach for sometime before walking onto the esplanade itself to find a snack and an espresso before heading back to the hostel for the included pasta dinner. Sitting with Gianni and his helper were four other Americans and myself. Even though the weather was not very good, Gianni’s hospitality, home cooking, and natural way of making you feel as if you were part of the family made up for it. Finishing the delicious dinner of pasta with a fresh sage and tomato sauce, homemade bread, and marinated olives and cheeses, the seven of us sat for hours talking over a bottle of homemade wine and getting to know each other. Gianni, a plumber by trade quit his job after doing a bit of traveling himself and decided to open the hostel. It was pretty amazing that he had followed his dream and created a truly special environment here at his house, making every person that stayed there feel as though they entered a guest and truly left as a friend. When I left the following morning he kissed me on both cheeks, told me it was a pleasure to meet me and would hope to see me again in the summer months when I could really see how beautiful his home town was. I promised to return and told him that I looked forward to it very much. Back in Catania I checked back into the hostel I stayed at when I first arrived in Sicily, only this time having no trouble finding it at all. Since the rain finally held off for an entire day I headed out on the town to see the sights and just enjoy being a part of the Italian lifestyle. When I returned to the hostel I was happy to see that the clouds had been gone long enough for me to finally get a view of Mt. Etna.

The giant volcano sits just outside the city and is so large that even in early march it was still covered in snow. Quite an impressive sight to say the least. Later that night, as dinner time once again fell upon me, I decided I would head back to Taverna Coppola to enjoy one last Sicilian dinner before heading off to London the following day. Upon walking in I was once again greeted by the friendly staff and shown to a nice table near the back of the restaurant. As the waiter began talking to me in English, the other waiter, the one who had served me earlier in the week, came over to let his partner know that I spoke Italian and that he would like to take care of me. I returned this night because the food was so good the first time I dined there, but I will be back again because of the combination of the food and the warm individualized service. This night I decided to skip the appetizer and start with a first plate of cheese ravioli served in a delicious cream sauce accented with pan simmered pancetta and pistachio. Absolutley delightful. For my second plate I enjoyed a nice piece of beef, simply grilled, topped with fresh garlic and olive oil, and served with a deliciously fresh salad tossed in olive oil, balsamic, and a light squeeze of lemon. I sat and talked with the waiter for a little time after finishing my meal and let him know that I would be back in a month or two. He said he would be there and would be waiting for me. What a nice way to finish off my stay in Sicily. I had heard that Sicily could be a bit rough. My experience, on the other hand, was nothing short of spectacular thanks to the warm friendly nature of the locals and the absolutely amazing cuisine, which by far made me forget that the sun did not shine on the beautiful Island the entire time I was there. So with these sunny thoughts in my head I boarded my plane and waved good bye to Sicily. More appropriately, I said, “Ciao. Ci vediamo a presto.”

Ancora State Mangiando

3/25/10
Still you are eating?! Shortly after pulling into Siracusa I walked away from the hostel and headed to the main part of town. The rain had stopped for a bit, but the sea was still angry. As I crossed the bridge to town, I noticed some waves breaking in the distance. I immediately walked in that direction, almost as if I didn’t have a choice. I have always felt most comfortable by the sea and was happy to once again be next to it. As I reached the break wall I sat for some time taking in what the sea had to offer. The energy of the sea here was amazing.

On my left, the calm waters of the marina sat still, seemingly unaware of the waves that were pounded the jetty that protected it. I couldn’t help but look out at the sea and question if any of the waves were surfable. I knew they weren’t, but in my head I saw myself dropping into wave after wave.

After I had my fill of surfing in my head, I decided to follow the road that hugged the Cliffside and see where it would take me. Thirty minutes later I found myself standing in front of a restaurant on the other side of town. I had not enjoyed a pizza in Italy in over eight years and was excited to see that this restaurant, Luna Rossa, was open and had a plethora of pizzas available. As I sat down, Carmen, the server brought me a menu and a half carafe of house wine. I quickly ordered a pizza diavola and relaxed with my wine and a view of the sea directly in front of me.

As I sipped my wine Carmen returned for some lengthy conversation in Italian, before disappearing and then coming back with my lunch, my long awaited true Italian pizza. It was just as good as I remembered. I finished off my lunch with an espresso as Carmen wrote down directions to his sister’s gelato shop just down the road and wished me well on my travels. The gelateria unfortunately was closed, but I enjoyed my walk along the water just the same. I headed now to the center of town and visited the ancient Greek ruins for the Temple to Apollo which are the focal point of the city, passed a massive fountain, and eventually reached the baroque Cathedral that is one of Sicily’s most famous monuments.




After spending some time at each, just taking in the treasures before me, I headed back to the hostel for a nap and recharge before going out for yet another amazing dining experience. I actually walked around the town for over an hour before deciding on the place I would have dinner. I’m not sure of the name of the one I decided on, but it was for sure a good decision. Immediately after entering I was shown to a table and greeted by an energetic staff that was definitely happy to be there. I started with a salad of beautiful fresh tomatoes and local buffalo mozzarella, drizzled with homemade olive oil, and topped with fresh, local basil. The portion was so large that I had only eaten half of it by the time my main course had arrived. For my main tonight I had decided to go with a simple selection, penne all’arrabiata. Penne pasta with fresh tomato sauce, garlic, basil, and red peppers. Sometimes simple is best. I once again finished every last bite, happily paid my bill, and headed back to the hostel for a good night’s sleep. Waking up the next morning I headed to the local fresh market. I again walked over the bridge into town.

On this day crossing the bridge, the seas were calm and I noticed fishermen repairing their nets from having just pulled in the very fish I was about to buy. Walking in to the market area I passed stand after stand of fresh fruit, vegetables, herbs, fish, olives, and cheeses.



I decided on a handful of strawberries, a couple apples, garlic, tomatoes, basil, and prawns. Back at the hostel I steamed the tomatoes, gently peeled their skins, crushed the garlic, simmered them with a little white wine, added the prawns, topped it with some basil, and tossed in the fresh pasta.


As I sat to eat my meal even the Italian lady at the front desk commented on how delicious my lunch looked, and when I made her a plate she agreed that it tasted even better than it looked. This is Italy.