Palermo: Ancestral Shores

Maybe because it promised to be the warmest, because we would be staying in an actual hotel, or because this was the one stop I had a personal connection to, but Palermo was probably the city I was most excited about. Venice was beautiful, Rome historical if overrated, and to be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect of Palermo.

I certainly wasn't disappointed by my first glimpse of the Sicilian coastline from the airport and bus ride into the city. There weren't any beaches, just the deep blue-green of the Mediterranean smashing against low, rocky shores. Palm trees stood side by side with pines, climbing up the gentle hills that are broken by enormous mountains of rock that seem to rise and crest from the land like frozen waves. Houses densely hug the coast, thinning as they get closer to the roots of the mountains. Palermo itself is cradled between the mountains that stretch to also encompass Torini and the sea with a large harbor and marina.

Inside the city, the old and new live side by side, seeing equal amounts of activity. People still worship in pre-modern era churches, trade in traditional markets, and gossip at aged piazzas. The old and young congregate around their favorite shop or fountain to chat, shop, or just observe life. Evidence of Sicily's rich cultural past, having passed through Norman, Arab, and Spanish hands, shows in everything from the ethnic foods to the architectural styles to the faces of the people themselves.

With a much better map than either of our previous ones, we began our exploration by making our way down one of the main streets towards the Trezza di Mare or Sea Terrace. Passing the Fountain of Shame, so named for its numerous nude statues, as well as other fountains and churches, we crossed under looming Porta Felice to the small park on the sea. When you turned around, the view was spectacular. The varying layers of Palermo, with their contrasting skyrises and tiled roofs, were set against the antique green of the sweeping mountains. The cliffs of the island faded into indistinguishable blue as they stretched into the distance.

The park itself wasn't much, just a few gravel walkways following the shore and large expanses of open fields for schoolboys to play football (soccer) on. We were able to find a small section of beach with rocks, seaglass, intricate shells, and the occasional bits of tile marking the former tides' height. After sorting through a fair bit for small treasures, I couldn't resist dipping my feet into the sea. Needless to say, it was freezing but worth it as it felt like a small tribute to my Italian blood, touching the ancestral waters.

Going back into the main city, we walked through the high end streets with their numerous clothing shops and patisseries along with three of Palermo's famous markets. Unfortunately, it started to rain with intermittent hail, forcing us to return to our hotel, where we partook in the wonderful tradition of the afternoon nap. Upon waking up, we ventured out again for food only to discover that with the cultural differences of mealtimes, most of the food shops and restaurants were closed or closing. So after lots of walking and a bit of desperation, we ended up with half-off paninis, which were actually quite good. Our evening was rounded off by stumbling upon a small Christmas carol performance with lights cast onto the monuments on our way back to our hotel.

The next morning saw us walking through the last sector of the city. Quite by accident we found the last of the markets, Ballaro. Vendors shouted back and forth as people examined the fresh fish and produce, the smell of fish and citrus heavy on the air. I ended up buying three incredibly juicy oranges, leaves still attached, that we ate throughout the rest of the day. I couldn't help being a bit proud of myself, having participated in an important part of Italian life and making use of my very, very scant Italian vocabulary. 

From there, we found the Norman Palace, closed for repair, and the Palermo Cathedral. The small piazza with orange trees and cobblestones in front of the cathedral was dominated by a large, beautifully tiled boat carrying Palermo's patron saint, St.Rosalia, and a statue of Michael the Archangel crushing a demon. Outside, the cathedral showed a variety of influences, having Christian images, Arab domes, and Norman towers. Inside though, it was all Catholic with marble holy water basins carved with scenes from Jesus' life, paintings and sculptures of saints tucked into small chapels or guarding the main aisle, and a magnificent altar piece of the resurrected Christ.

When it came near time for us to leave Palermo, we said goodbye by eating a tiramisu and a latte&nutella gelato on St.Dominic's piazza, simply watching life go by. We left with the setting sun, watching the rocks of the mountains slowly turn from gray to dusky purple before finally disappearing beneath the clouds.

To sum up my Italian travels, I have two main observations. The first is that Catholicism inseparable from Italy. In all three cities, almost every other street corner held a small shrine or two, most of them being devoted to the Virgin Mary. Streets and piazzas held the names of countless saints while churches proved to be one of the best ways to find your location on any map. The second observation is that Italy is in a semi strange state of simultaneous decay and growth. Not so old buildings crumbled both inside the city and on the outskirts while new buildings rose above the skylines. Luxurious stores with brand names flourished on the same street that homeless people bundled under sleeping bags for warmth at night. I did love Italy, but I think I'd need a little more time there to truly understand it. That journey, however, will have to wait for another time.