We woke up early today, at least earlier than we had been, ready to pack up and get to our bus to the airport. That was when I realized I had no idea where I’d put our passports.
Oh my god. I’d never done this before, and I completely freaked out. I remembered having put them somewhere strange, a place where I thought to myself “I have to remember doing this, or we won’t find them.” Of course I forgot, and 45 (forty-five!) frantic minutes of searching later, along with trying to find out if Palermo has an American consulate, we found them nestled in between two packed pairs of Husbear’s pants. Good hiding place, me. Phew.
The bus ride to the airport was uneventful, and soon after arrival we were ensconced in an ugly-as-hell GOLD Smart ForFour with giant car rental decals all over the butt end. Whatever, we were on the open road!
We were going west along the coast, and then south towards Marsala, the west coast town famous for its wine. We stopped at a couple of lovely views near Castellemmare del Golfo
and got very very lost for a little while in Trápani, but all in all had no real trouble getting to Marsala. We were lucky soon after arrival to find a large bronze map that led us directly to our hotel, which is adorable and wonderful and run by an older Italian couple. We even have our own bathroom!
Leaving the hotel, we found a town completely deserted. I’ve never seen anywhere take the pausa (otherwise known as the siesta) as seriously as Sicily – even most museum hours are 9 a.m. – 1 p.m. and then 3 or 4 p.m. to 6 or 7 p.m.! It’s a difficult transition.
We were able to find an open bar, where we ate yet another giant stuffed fried a arancino (LOVE THEM!) and another cannolo, this one tasting extra sheep-cheesy – like an almost barnyard type flavor! - but good.
We stopped by the extremely friendly tourist information office, and then headed in the direction they indicated for the archaeological museum (which has the actual remains of a Punic boat sunk during the First Punic War!).
This being where it is (Sicily) and us being who we are (occasional dumbasses) we ended up forcing open a closed fence (after all, it was across the street we were told to take!). We then walked down a long uninviting road and clambered around in some bushes until we found the back door of the museum and triumphantly presented ourselves at the ticket desk. The ticket-taker didn’t bat an eye.
The museum’s small collection was interesting, but we were hampered in that the only explicatory information was in Italian – except for the Punic wreck, which had some English. Further explanation might have helped us to understand why they chose to show this sculpture of Venus on her side in dirt (I understand it was found that way, but it really doesn’t seem to me like the best way to show off the find).
The Punic boat itself was quite interesting. It was spotted in 1969 off the coast of Sicily by a fisherman who took the information to an archaeologist. Though there isn’t too much left of the boat, after 2400 years underwater, much was learned from its remains. For instance, the presence of certain Phoenician letters in strategic places on the boat shows that it was put together something like a kit, by workers who must have been literate.
A very cool find in such a small town.
We left the museum just in time to see the end of a lovely sunset over the coast.
Just next to the museum is a pair of enoteche, or wine stores, selling local wines and food products. We chose the one on the left and were treated to free tastings of several different types of local marsalas, as well as wines from the island of Pantelleria. We were actually able to carry on much of the conversation with the man in charge in Italian, which was a nice feeling – though he wanted to talk a lot about James Brown’s funeral, and we didn’t have too much to add to that discussion.
Wandering around Marsala between wine and dinner was lovely. Marsala is actually a corruption of an Arabic name, Marsa’ Allah, meaning Port of G-d, and it’s where Giuseppe Garibaldi first landed with his ships and men to attempt the reunification of Italy in 1860. Now, it’s a town of about 70,000 or so, with a charming little historic center and lots of fugly suburbs. The area within the old walls is very nice for a walk, though, and most of the town was out at about 6 in the evening for the passeggiata – the preening walk around town. The one in Florence is usually impressive, but it’s probably 60% tourists – here, all locals. Marsala isn’t really set up for tourists, actually; though there are some hotels, the number is pretty small, and there are barely any within the historic district.
Dinner was at a restaurant (Trattoria Garibaldi) highly recommended not only both of our travel guides, but also the tourist agency; thus, it turned out to be overpriced and kind of sucky. Good antipasta buffet, but gross fritto misto (mixed fry) of tiny shrimps and calamari.
Also – this is from their menu. If anyone knows a Doug that might find this as hilarious as we did, you are welcome to it. Handmade Doug will ROCK YOU!
Good night from Marsala – tomorrow, salt pans and lots and lots of driving!
