Straight from late summer into what feels like winter, we’ve somehow missed autumn entirely. The leaves are yellowed and fall magnificently, but the temperature is blustery.
My thoughts are down south in Italy where I’m sure it’s not only warmer but they’re eating particularly good ice cream while maneuvering the cobble-stoned streets.
One of the first things I like to do when I arrive in a city with any sort of hills, is to go up up up and find the nicest view of the place. The photo above was a moment where I thought, ‘People actually get to live here.‘
Considering I live in Munich, which is another place where visitors walk around and marvel at the wonder of living in such a beautiful place, I appreciate the novelty of the tables being turned for a change.
Yet here I am back home dreaming of exotic ice cream flavours and homemade pasta and the reflection of the sunlight on the water. We’ve got sunshine and water and all the rest of it hereabouts, but it’s somehow just not the same.
Suppose I’m easing into the more conventional travel photos, but they’re finally here. Things like this street are what I find myself more attracted to at the moment, though. Having said that, here’s the cathedral:
Quite a name, eh? How many churches do you know with Santissima in their moniker? Oh, and if you liked that angle, check it out from the other side:
Although there are plenty of churches here and you could easily only talk about the wide variety on offer, as many as I’ve seen I didn’t get the best photos.
Have been trying to figure out what these red silos on the roof of the church are all about. I’m sure a proper travel blog would find that out for you, but something in me wants to continue wondering. Incidentally, it’s called the Chiesa di San Cataldo.
Elaine’s theory is that there was so much dirty stuff in Palermo that when Goethe happened upon this fountain, he was impressed primarily because of its relative cleanliness. To me it seems uncommonly clean. Strange, isn’t it? Something quite gorgeous, but here I am questioning its authenticity in some form.
You can smell the fuel just looking at this photo, right? Much like Athens, the streets here simply reek of it. The temperature apparently rarely falls to freezing here, so even though it gets cold, one can ride scooters year-round. And ride them they do.
Have seen some fantastic shots of this, but mine got it when it was in the midst of its regular maintenance. However, I suppose you can still see the best of it. Are they guarding the palace? I don’t think the ones without arms are going to be of much help.
How did this tree grow in such an odd winding manner? It’s almost as if it wants to stay as close to the wall as it possibly can.
Then, at some point, we had cake. That thing on the left was some sort of pastry filled with and then slathered with a butter fat icing. There’s a lot of injecting food with liquid food here. It’s quite delicious, but you spend most of the time eating it marvelling at the mechanics of the whole thing. Then the other ones were a berry-flavoured cake and then a chocolate layered thing. Both were delicioso, or something…
We are bad tourists, Elaine and I, and we’ve not done much of anything to right our wrongs. Partially due to our limited skills in the speaking of Sicilian, or Italian for that matter, and partially because we’re so wrapped up in our meandering conversations, we’ve had nearly no interaction with any actual Sicilians during our time here.
It hasn’t stopped us from having strong opinions about what they’re up to. We’ve created a backstory for all of this.
The dogs seem to have figured the place out rather well. There are many, and they don’t appear sick. They’re not emaciated…someone must be feeding them. Not sure if the photo above shows it clearly enough, but that dog is actually lying in a busy street. Although the cars seem to speed up when they encounter a pedestrian, they steer clear of anything canine.
There are so many places that gentrify and then the original occupants talk about how wonderful things used to be. I’ve come to the conclusion that now must be when everything here was truly great. Before this corner of Palermo has been bought up and rebranded. We’ve grown accustomed to this, so much so that when we go to other parts of the city, we miss our ruins.
If there is going to be an Apocalypse of some sort, living hereabouts would prepare you for at least the aesthetics of that new reality. There are certainly some advantages to the way things are done here.
For example, there are some distinct advantages to having a bit of green on your balcony. Pots and whatnot really are overrated if you think about it. Here you’re able to have a bit of the wildness under your feet.
There are plenty of beautiful sights here, you know. I suppose I shall get to those in due course. The street food of Palermo is another thing I can’t fathom passing up.
At some point, we really should actually attempt a bit of dialogue with the locals. I’m just not sure their real story will be nearly as entertaining as the one we’ve created for them.
There are already more photos of Palermo than one can shake the proverbial stick at, but I just can’t be bothered to sift through them yet and decide which are interesting to anyone other than me.
So, I’ll give you one ridiculous shot and a bit of a story. The handful of you who still come here are doing so for the narrative anyway, right? The photos are gravy, I’m assuming.
What’s with the title of this blogpost, you ask? Well, it comes thanks to Elaine (@elaine4queen), with whom I’m conquering Palermo. There was talk of cake, but we’ve not actually found any of that yet. In the process of our hunt for cake, however, we did find these Orange Balls.
We had both heard of these, but the billing didn’t quite do them justice. Nevertheless, until technology catches up and allows me to upload the taste of something on a blog, a description will have to suffice.
It’s a ball of some sort of corn breading with a variety of different fillings depending on the whims of whoever’s cooking. In this case, we were offered either Ham and Cheese or Meat. When I inquired about what sort of meat specifically was involved in the latter, the woman behind the counter looked at me incredulously and said with an odd finality, ‘Meat.’
Some might have balked, but now I was genuinely curious. The decision was snatched away from us, when the woman announced that they were, alas, out of the Ham and Cheese. We were having the Meat, and have it we did.
They were delicious. There’s a reason why numerous people, upon hearing we were going to Palermo, insisted we try the Orange Balls. There’s nothing remotely citrus about them, incidentally. Orange is a colour here, rather than a taste. Yet they were filling and somehow decadent, and even before we were halfway done, it was clear that there would be no room left for cake.
You could possibly be one of those folk who believes there’s always room for cake. To such a person, I’ll only say, ‘Have an Orange Ball in Palermo and get back to me on that one.‘
It’s been almost a year since I began this blog, so I’ve decided to repost some of my auld material in honour of my blogiversary. Fun stuff, eh?
So, here was one of the very first blogposts I came up with. The thought of not documenting a trip to the Medici family’s city with a few photos here was unthinkable.
Florence is a truly beautiful city, and I was surprised at what you found once you got away from where the majority of the tourists go. Tea shops and real people and whatnot.
The very thought makes me want to book a flight and spend the weekend there in the very near future. One never knows…