No beach weather yet for Chippings in Sicily

MAZZORO, Sicilia -- Your faithful correspondent and advance man walked down the hillside from Taormina yesterday to this popular seaside resort and found nary a soul on the grey pebbled beach. Isola Bella ("beautiful island"), perhaps the most photographed site on Sicily's eastern shore, stood forlorn and dreary on a dark afternoon. As it began to rain, a lone restauranteur packed up the lunch tables and chairs that he had optimistically set out on the beach.

All this is to say that the Chippings on the Giro d'Sicilia might as well leave their Speedos at home. Early spring weather here does not invite swimming or sun bathing. Highs are in the mid-60s, overnight lows in the 40s. Intense morning sun breaks are followed by clouds and light rain showers. On the plus side, there has been little wind.

In Sicily, like most of southern Italy, the mid-day meal time from 1 to 4 in the afternoon is scrupulously observed. Everyone goes home to mama's to eat and nap. Consequently, markets, shops, museums, pharmacies, even bars and restaurants are closed. Walking the street during these hours is a bit like being on a strange planet from which all the inhabitants have fled.

The daily siesta here in the MezzoGiorno has at least two implications for the Chippings: 1) Mid-day cycling might be a great time to ride through cities and towns that would otherwise be clogged with traffic; and 2) We better carry lunch with us because we sure aren't going to find any food to buy at lunch time.

I've also come to a third conclusion reported earlier: We better choose our cycling routes carefully or we will be at serious risk of cardiac arrest. There are hiking trails in the Cascades that have fewer switchbacks and gain elevation slower than some of the paved roads I've seen here in eastern Sicily.




On Sunday, Peppe, my intrepid Italian teacher, took me, an old German guy, an old Swiss guy and two Swiss babes (the German babes weren't available) to climb Mount Scuderi, which at 3,600 feet is the tallest peak northeast of Mount Etna. We were able to drive the first 1,000 feet up a narrow paved road that clung to the cliffside and wound back on itself at least a dozen times. At one point, we had to yield to a bull. Eventually, the road ended and we set out on foot up a rocky trail toward the tabletop summit of the mountain. We were within an hour of the top when fog rolled in. Then a soft rain began. And the Swiss babes began to whine. Indecision ensued. And everybody but Peppe abandoned their intermediate Italian to argue vociferously in German, English and Swiss German about whether we should continue or go back.

The Swiss babes won. We turned back, falling into weary talk in our native tongues. For lack of another English speaker, I spoke to Peppe in Italian. I was wet, cold, tired and disappointed. It was a perfect time to use the emotional nuance of the past subjunctive with the aspirational hope of the conditional. And I couldn't do it. Ho fallito malamente.

Location:Mazzoro, Sicilia