When in Rome (or Sicily)...

I forgot to say the following about Vienna: we explored the massive flea market on Saturday and we attended Mass (all in German, of course) at Stephansdom Cathedral.

ROME

Our bus dropped us off in Rome at an ungodly early hour on Monday 13 April. Thanks to Ryan Air’s decision to cancel our original flight to Sicily, we only had the day to see Rome, and I think we did a pretty good job. The one thing we did not get to do was to go inside the Vatican. If you ever find yourself planning a trip to Rome, do NOT- I repeat, do NOT- go the day after Easter Sunday. The Catholic masses crowd to Rome to receive the pope’s blessing on Easter Sunday, and they are all still in town on Monday, wanting to visit Vatican City. The line was wrapped all around the plaza by the time we got there at 9:30am. When we passed back by after lunch, the line was even longer. We could have seen the Vatican or we could have done everything else in Rome. We did everything else.

To cram in as much as we could, we bought tickets for a sight-seeing bus, and I’m so glad we did. With a combination of the bus route and the metro, we were able to fit it all the major landmarks. Ground covered: the Coliseum, Boca de Verita, Circo Massimo, Pantheon, Trivina Fountain, Spanish steps. We of course had pasta for lunch and gelato for dinner.

SICILY

There is absolutely nothing to do in Sicily. Who knew? Anna and I figured as much, but we planned on spending the day relaxing on the beach. It’s colder in Sicily than in Italy. Who knew? What I did not plan on, however, was having the best time in a place with so little to do!!!

The main town on the island is Palermo, but since Ryan Air flies to Trapani, that’s where we stayed. Anna and I thought we’d do a bit of exploring the day we arrived, but since we had no map (I’m not sure there are maps of Trapani), we weren’t sure which direction to begin our exploration. Standing confused outside our bed and breakfast, two American girls staying in the same place pointed us towards the water. It only took us 20 minutes of walking to realize there’s really not much to explore in Trapani.

That night, we got to talking to the two American girls. Gabby is a sculpture major studying abroad in Florence, and Molly is a ceramics major studying abroad in Sunderland, and they are both students at Cal State Long Beach. They became our good friends for the rest of the trip. If it weren’t for them, we would have been bored out of our minds. Oh, and Gabby speaks a bit of Italian, so she saved our necks on multiple occasions.

Gabby’s 21st birthday was on Thursday, so to celebrate we decided to go to some thermal baths. Terme Gorga (translated as “thermal gorge”) had a brochure in our b&b; it was all in Italian except for two lines: “Cheap Spa!” and “Thermal Baths.” The four of us hopped on a train to Alcamo, a few towns over, to give the spa a visit. We were taken by shock at how small and nonexistent this town with the spa was. The train station was a shack and the only other building in sight was dilapidated. Nevertheless, we followed a sign pointing to Terme Gorga. When we arrived, Gabby did our communicating only to find out that the translations on their brochure are a “miscommunication.” Instead of a thermal bath, they have an outdoor swimming pool.

Not wanting to waste the day and not keen on paying money to swim in a run-of-the-mill pool, we made our way back to the train station to head to Palermo. We come to find, however, that you cannot buy train tickets at this station; the closest place to purchase tickets is a town 15km away. We get on the train to Palermo, and Gabby explains to the conductor that it is not our intention to ride the train without purchasing a proper ticket. He assured us that we would be able to get off after a few stops, purchase tickets, and board the train again. After a few stops, a new conductor comes on board, and we make it all the way to Palermo without purchasing a ticket. Again, it was not our intention, but it worked out nicely.

By the time we reached Palermo, we were starving. Of course we had no map (since our plan was to lounge in some thermal baths), so we picked a direction and started walking. When a group of clearly non-Italian tourists (with a guide book) crossed our path, we asked which direction would take us to some grub. The three guys- Chris, Rob, and Steve- were in town for a wedding, and they offered to walk with us towards their hotel, where we would find sustenance. They ended up having dinner with us, and we found out they were traveling to Trapani the next day. We swapped phone numbers before having to SPRINT to the train station, determined to catch the LAST train back to Trapani…at 6:30pm. We made the train with three minutes to spare.

Thursday morning (April 16) after breakfast served on the b&b owner’s terrace, the four Yanks set out to explore Trapani a bit more. As it turns out, both sets of two girls missed Old Town in their explorations. Old Town really is quite lovely. The buildings all have balconies with rod iron railings, and all the stucco is shades of yellows, oranges, and pinks. We met up with the English guys after lunch and spent the afternoon drinking beer by the port, watching ferries come and go. The guys had to catch a ferry later in the afternoon to the small island where the wedding was to be on Saturday. Steve’s guidebook had 1 paragraph on Trapani but had 3 pages devoted to Favignana, so we decided to meet them there the next day. We had nothing better to do! That night, Gabby, Molly, Anna, and I bought a couple of pizzas (genuine Sicilian pizzas), rented a movie, and laughed and talked till we couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Friday could not have been a better day. We caught a ferry Friday morning out to Favignana. When we met the guys, they were decided how exactly they wanted to tour the island: some favored bikes while others favored scooters (mopeds). I was leaning towards a bit of exercise with a bike (and I was incredibly nervous to drive or ride on a scooter). Apparently I would have jumped off a bridge if they all did because we went with a scooter. I was too chicken to drive, so I agreed on the condition that Anna had to drive and I would ride on the back.

The scooter adventure didn’t kick off with a smooth start. The rental place was on a street just off from the port, and we all had to turn around to set off in the right direction. Gabby was driving with Molly on the back. Gabby barely breaks 100 pounds and wasn’t strong enough for her job. While making their initial turn, the bike skidded and flipped over on the girls. Luckily they had a bit of road rash but were not hurt badly. In all the excitement, Rob forgot to look at what he was doing and crashed his own bike not but 10 seconds later. Molly climbed out from under the wreckage to pick up the bike, but the engine was still running and she twisted the throttle, lurching the bike forward and ultimately crashing down on her again. Locals emerged from the woodworks to see the idiot tourists. The owner of the rental shop helped Gabby, who was the only one with visible blood (though not much), back to the shop and sent her out on a new bike. A nice local (apparently the only one) turn off the scooter and helped Molly up. All of this happened in less than a minute’s time.

Anna was quite a good driver! After the wreckage, I never got the nerve up to drive, but with Anna’s talented scooter skills, I didn’t need to!

Six scooters set off: one with Anna and me, one with Steve and Molly, and one each for Rob, Chris, Gabby, and the father of the bride. We stuck mainly to the coast, stopping when there was a pretty photo op. We stopped for lunch at a bit of sand, taking a few minutes to play in the ocean. We turned our scooters in with just enough time to catch the 5pm ferry back to Trapani.

Picture it. Sicily. 2009. Four American girls, three English guys, and a German father-of-the bride and six scooters. Priceless.