Being used to visiting the village in the mountains where my relatives live, I was looking forward to seeing a different part of Sicily although I didn’t anticipate an awful lot of difference. Trapani, situated on a point with the sea on both sides of the town, the port on one side, the beach on the other and the marvellous old town buildings with elegant friezes and patterned balconies. The sea at the beach is turquoise and clean but with a lot of seaweed which my mother fretted would trigger her allergic reaction and introduce a sea monster to the holiday as she emerged form the water. The town is clean and simply looking up at the mountain you see we are on the same land as the Sicily I knew.
The village I usually visit is a distance from any significant tourist landmark or city. The buildings are a mixture between the old and modest and new style of affordable apartments.
Our usual connivence of going during the school holidays growing up, meant we were there when all the other people who had moved away from the village returned with their families for the summer. The council put put on festivities for this time of year to entertain and welcome. They have the procession for the patron saint with a marching band and powerful atmosphere, twice a year. Once on the saint’s day and once in the summer for those visiting. There is a cheese festival, other processions, concerts, plays and dance.
June was a taster of what it is like the rest of the year. Quiet and happy with my sister and I wondering why anyone goes to get ice-cream from anywhere but the award winning ice-cream parlour and their nutuola flavour.
This therefore focused out visit spending time with family which tended to revolve around meals.
We ate the most delicious meat in my memory, the exception being from the famous stake house in Florence which thanks to an organised relative, we had a booking and skipped the mass of people ‘queuing’ for two hours. The closest food to anything I consume in london was a chocolate mousse my cousin made in a blending machine. So now I know to get one of those and be ever on a sugar high which is not an unusual occurrence back home. Perhaps it will be on a budget sugar high without dropping the quality.
Love of food I can confirm is not just a stereotype but rains true.along with football and wine. I’m do not have a lot of experience on the latter or football for that matter but followed the European cup enough to know they were gutted loosing the germany match. Hurray for wales though! I really felt they pushed hard to combat the mockery and insults after the referendum statistics. Hearing the opinions of people in a countries till in the EU was enlightening as an interesting mode of research. Less of the repetition of people absorbing similar opinions and then expressing them and the reposting. Produce seemed to be a big issue and we rarely see basic necessities being produced in London. I have seen farms in England many times but the family farm in the countryside outside the village in Sicily is heartwarming and feels like a more a natural way to get our food.
The labyrinth on a slightly higher top of the mountain I heard was not technically authorised by any official body, yet the concrete structure is a beautiful point of interest, especially with the view and excite for a child as I remember.