Today, we drove a couple of hours north from Syracusa along the section of the Sicilian coast that is one of the most heavily populated. The price we pay for modern civilisation was clearly on display... an oil refinery... air particle count that limited visibility... fabrication businesses stretching endlessly along the road... roadworks on the express way. None of this worried us one bit. We were travelling to meet up with family members... who we had not seen for 5 months.
Mt Etna gradually showed its face... first, as a vague shadow on the horizon... gradually showing its power and majesty. Like at Mt Vesuvius, people seemed willing to ignore the risk of eruptions tomorrow... in order to get a better view today.
How much of the Italian psychic is shaped by living with earthquakes... volcanic eruptions... earth-slides... steep and narrow roads... and other mortal dangers. Do these ever present background risks explain the way Italian men drink their coffee... the way Italian women wear high-heer led shoes... the way communication requires not just speaking... but total use of body movement... arms... legs... facial muscles... the exuberance of living showing so clearly in normal living activities.
Perhaps having uncontrollable risks facing you at each turn helps explain the stark difference between the public untidiness... the decrepit outward appearance of many residences... in contrast with the beauty existing in private areas. This aspect of Sicily was no more evident than what we saw arriving at our relatives. As we approached the address we noted... the village showed little charm... the road was narrow and busy... cars were travelling too fast and showing too few manners. We drove to where our SatNav system abandoned us... "You have now reached your destination" told us no further help could be expected from Peggy... even though we were in the middle of a crossroad. We cruised along looking for street numbers... not a strong suit in Italian organisation. Finally, we admitted defeat and called our son for assistance. We were not too far away... he stood by the side of the road to tell us where to turn... opened the gates to the property... and in we went.
The transformation was immediate! The garden wall blocked out the street noise... the trees quietly imposed a countryside tranquillity... the 19th century villa gave a solid base that settled the nerves. Then we had the excitement of our family reunion. Sicily was now at its best.
No comments:
Post a Comment