Palermo

We arrived mid afternoon in Palermo.  The aiport was outside of the city and the drive in was about 45 minutes.  It wasn't exactly scenic, with the most of the surroundings being low rise buildings and a very dry landscape.  There were some impressive geological formations that seemed to rise out of the ground that reminded me a bit of some places I had visited in the Middle East.  When we arrived at the hotel, we were confronted by an incredibly strong smell of room deodoriser.  It was candy sweet and seemed to get into everything.  The room was otherwise spotless though.  We left out things and immediately headed out to explore the city.

We had booked our hotel in the middle of the old city and so we started walking towards the famed street market of La Vucciria.  Along the way, we walked past a street that was decorated with lights and love hearts.  I immediately thought back to the Spanish Quarter of Napoli.  Would this be a similarly vibrant city full of life and joy?

We sat down in the market.  It was busy and full of tourists.  It had a semblance of being a working market, with fish stalls selling their goods, but the restaurants lining the lanes seemed to indicate that the tourist dollar was far more important.  We were still able to get a good meal, with our first plate of the hearty pasta alla norma and a fresh platter of frito misto.  It was simple food, but cooked well and with ingredients that sang with the flavour of the region.

The next couple of days were spent wandering the streets of the old town of Palermo.  It is an enormous area and claims to be the largest "old town" in Europe.  There were several large intersecting streets which seemed to be the centre of the touristed old town, with other parts being far less populated or visited.  It didn't quite feel like we were in Italy anymore.  There was a more decrepit feeling to everything that once again reminded me of Napoli.  It was a similar feeling of lost grandeur, but without the same grit that Napoli had.  The heat seemed to take an edge off everything and beat down on these old buildings.

We tried to find the famous places to visit in the city.  We stood in the middle of Quattro Canti and looked up and around at the statues that were arrayed at each of the four corners.  All around were the streets full of small shops selling gelato, granitas, cannoli and knickknacks.  Further along, was Palermo Cathedral.  Inside there was nothing particularly memorable about the large cathedral, but with a purchase of a ticket you had the opportunity to delve deep into the recesses of the crypt along with go to the very top to walk along the roof.  Both of these places were well worth the cost of the admission.  From the top of the cathedral we looked out far and wide across the city.  There didn't really seem to be a modern CBD.  There was the old town and then the more modern built up buildings that spread out far into the distance.

Further along still was the Norman Palace.  The building a is a strange mismatch of times, styles and designs.  Parts of the building are now a museum and other parts seem to continue to operate as the local government chambers.  We walked through some of the galleries, but what we were really interested in was the "Capella Palatina" (the Palatine Chapel).  Deep in the middle of the palace was this old church built by the famous Roger the Great of Sicily.  Compared to other churches we had seen in Italy, this place was exceptionally old, having been built during the twelfth century.  This was a building created during the middle of the Crusades, far older than the usual renaissance fare we were used to in other places.  Like our visit to Arezzo, we were instead walking through something that was very much from the Middle Ages.  After several trips across Europe and having seen some beautiful cathedrals everywhere, there is definitely a fatigue that begins to creep in.  What was once unique and spectacular becomes lost in the crowd of other similarly beautiful places.  This Capella Palatina was uniquely memorable and beautiful.  It was built by both craftsman from both the Greek and Islamic world, so it was a blending of cultures and styles that I hadn't see since my backpacking days in Syria.  The intricate beauty of the roof matched in a strange contrast with the ornate Byzantine mosaics.  I couldn't help but think back to the stunning Ummayad Mosque in Damascus.  King Roger had ruled over a cosmopolitan kingdom, full of people and cultures from the entire region.  It was a melting pot of people and this lovely place was the reminder of the wonder that could be achieved with such a blending of ideas. 

After enjoying the beauty of the Capella Palatina, we made our way back towards the middle of the old town.  We had found an old church and nunnery during our initial exploration, but what we wanted to experience was the dolceria that was inside.  It had been closing when we first visited and so we arranged our exploration to circle back another day when it was open.  On the inside was a bakery run by the nuns to raise money for their work.  People lined up for the various sweets, but what was the clear standout were the cannoli.  Each was made to order, with the option to select the toppings to go on each end.

It was my first cannolo in Sicily.  I went for chocolate and pistachio.  Veronica of course asked for everything.  I bit into it and it was immediately clear that it was the best I had ever eaten.  The shell was crunch and crisp.  There was no soggy or chewy texture to it.  The ricotta was intense and thick.  It seemed to be everything a cannolo was meant to be, unlike the sad imitations I had eaten over the years.   

We explored out further outside of the old city.  We walked out towards the harbour and to see the coastline.  It was far more industrial than I expected.  There seemed to be areas that had been built up around a boat marina, but for the most part it seemed to be more catered towards commerce than anything else.  We kept walking around the whole area, stopping to admire the famous mural of Falcone and Borsellino, the two great men who died trying to fight the mafia in Sicily.  The further we got from the marina and from the old town, the more degraded the city felt.  The old town didn't feel particularly well kept to begin with, so there was a real feeling of urban decay in these further outlying areas.

We looped back and headed towards the old town areas again.  It was the peak of the tourist season, so the streets were filled with tourists and with the accompanying touts and shops.  We wandered up and down the streets, but there was little that appealed to us.  Veronica found a few of the smaller shops that had some of the jewelry that she liked, but on the whole the shops were selling the standard tourist knickknacks that we weren't looking for.

Something about Palermo seemed to be lacking.  I couldn't put my finger on it entirely, but there was certainly none of the joy that I had experienced in Napoli.  There were deep similarities in the look and feel of the locations, but it seemed that culturally they could not have been further apart.  There were still great locations to visit.  There was the old and the ancient in this city.  There was a run down grandeur and splendour to the place.  Yet, the people seemed more sad.  There was a weight on the shoulders of the people.  We tried to look for more of the happier locations to enjoy ourselves.  We found great food and we found good music, but the feelings still lingered.

As we boarded our train to leave Palermo, I felt very conflicted.  There were very interesting things to see in this city and a truly unique culture different to any other place I had been in Italy.  Yet there was a sadness and trouble that seemed to linger wherever we went.  The poverty of this city was clear.  It was the height of the tourist season and yet there still seemed to be a lack of activity and opportunity in the city.  Infrastructure seemed to be crumbling along with the old buildings.  It was a city, like many in Italy, that had seen better days.  Yet unlike other parts, there didn't seem to be a joyful irreverence to contrast with this.  Instead it seemed that the depression in opportunity seeped into the mindset of the people at large.  It cut into any of the good experiences we had, and I felt guilty for it.  How can you let go and embrace any happiness when you feel such strong sadness around you?  This city was still full of beauty and a rich history, but it seemed to be a trapped in malaise of poverty and stagnation.