The Wonder of Scala Dei Turchi on the Southwestern Shore

     Aliyah and I will surely miss Sicily and the wonderful people we've met. They are so animated and alive, and as friendly as you could ever expect. We haven't encountered any rudeness from anyone. Even Roberto, the cab driver who came and found us when we got tired of waiting for him, was not being rude. He was upset about the principle of the matter- they do have an honor code here that we could never even attempt to enforce in the USA: They never ask you to pay when you order food or beverages, even gasoline. You only pay when you are finished, and this code is rarely if ever violated.

     After a night in Marsala, our hotel clerk suggested that we head for a place called Scala Dei Turchi, one of the must see natural wonders in Sicily. The place gets its name from a distant time when the Turks either invaded or conquered Sicily. From far out at sea they spotted what appeared to be white steps leading up the steep cliffs from the shoreline. When they came ashore they were amazed at the natural white stairways leading up the side of the steep cliffs, thus the name forevermore, Stairs of the Turks.

     After a two hour drive averaging about 120 kilometers (does anyone know how fast I was going? My top speed was 140 k in my stick shift Fiat, and cars were flying by me) we arrived at Scala Dei Turchi. (You will have to tune into the next blog, which will contain many pictures of this amazing place, or just google it.) The coastline itself in this part of Sicily is stunning with huge cliffs and the most beautiful Mediterranean waters. But, without a doubt, this natural phenomena is something very unique. The white cliffs are actually clay and it is such a brilliant white that it is almost blinding in the bright sun. There was a big professional photo shoot crew there complete with models when we arrived, so we just blended in with them and some really funny high school boys who entertained everyone by diving off of the rocks into the cold waters. After much prodding, I finally convinced Aliyah to jump in which she did. It was refreshing but too cold for her, so some of the boys happily helped her out and back onto the smooth rocks.

     After we’d had our fill of the cliffs, the sun, and the sea, we then needed to find a place to stay. We didn’t go very far when we saw a sign for a bed and breakfast right on the beach, so we stopped and rang the bell. A nice little Italian lady opened the electronic gate and showed us around her family’s “summer home” as she put it. It was very elegant with almost twenty-foot high ceilings, huge fifteen-foot mahogany doors, absolutely classic turn of the Century Italian Deco floor tiles, and filled with antiques. But, the best parts were the air blowing right off of the sea, a gorgeous thirty foot by fifteen foot long balcony right off of our bedroom, and a grape, olive, and fig tree garden to die for down below. She even agreed to make us eggs in the morning if we stayed. (footnote time: Italians never eat protein for breakfast- in fact, it is even minimal at most meals except for their overall addiction to sliced Italian ham. It seems as if the entire country exists on cappuccino, croissants, pasta and bread.) We met two gold jewelry brokers, who were staying in the room downstairs, at breakfast and they immediately told me that they were Philadelphia 76er’s fans, and they loved Andre Iguodala. I told them that they could have him for free! They were nice guys that loved American basketball, so they ran into the right person. We discussed each other’s economic systems and the current state of affairs, like how impossible it is to live in Milan, Italy no matter how many euros you make. They also said that their business was hanging on for dear life, as the price of gold has made buying gold jewelry prohibitive at this point in time. All in all, it was a very nice encounter, and they could not believe that Aliyah went to Kobe Bryant’s high school.

After breakfast we all said out goodbyes to Maria, the owner, and Aliyah and I headed to nearby Agregento, where the Valley of the Temples is located to walk through some of the best preserved Greek ruins anywhere. Wait till I tell my former Greek students that the Italians have better Greek ruins than they do in their own motherland.

     The walk through the ruins in Agregento was really fascinating. As per usual, the Carthaginians beat up the Greeks, the Romans beat them up, then the temples were exorcised by Catholics, who made them holy, and the British finally preserved them until the Italians thought they could make a buck out of it. We climbed and took many photos and walked miles and miles. Aliyah got her best laugh of the day in when I stepped down on the last step at the Temple of Hercules, tripped and twisted my ankle. Luckily, my extreme athleticism and agility kept me from getting injured. There were many French people and many Russians, both of which were not very appealing to me. I didn’t like the French demeanor and the Russians were from another planet. My good neighbor, Janusc, has told me story after story about the many cultural and behavioral subtleties that diversify the European races, so I must admit to having a few preconceived Bulgarian colored opinions prior to encountering these two particular groups. In fact, I almost pulled off a classic George Bush comment when the lady at the ticket counter said that Aliyah couldn’t get in for free because we were not members of the Greater European Union. I wanted to retort with no consideration or objective thought processes operative whatsoever, “ We protect the entire European Union, wherever that is!” Yeah, I know, thinking it is not doing it, but I wanted to. We took many photos of the ruins and also of the huge sculptures of the Greek gods that the Italians have nicely incorporated into the ruins. Of course, we couldn’t help zooming in on the penises and breasts for shock effect. Remember, only my students have moved on from eighth grade.

     It was then time to play zoom,zoom,zoom again in our little stick shift Fiat, and off we flew on the Sicilian interstate north toward San Vito lo Capo, another paradise on the Northern Coast of Sicily. I keep thinking how much my son, Deen, your current source for all things wattage, would love to drive this little Fiat. Perhaps a father and son road trip is in the cards someday, but I’m sure Deen would bump me up to a BMW or Maserati. The drive through the Sicilian heartland must be described: Miles and miles of beautifully contoured farms, without a foot wasted; mile after mile of grapes, olives, almond trees, and citrus. Hills and vales, hills and vales- Sicily is beautiful! All of Italy is so pleasing to the eye. You just can’t get enough of it; the mountains are huge, and the terracotta topped houses clinging to the cliffs in little clusters blend in seamlessly. The abundance is apparent. The love of the earth and the respectful relationship with it are primarily what the Italians are all about. The people have voted almost ninety-nine percent against starting any nuclear energy program. When was the last time, we had the right to vote against a government initiative and had a real voice in what goes on? We are ruled by our government, and the corporations who rule it!

     Well, without souring on our country’s state of affairs, or letting it taint my vacation, I will sign off for now. We are on the final leg of this part of the adventure, slowly getting ready to intercept Lisa in Florence on Sunday. It is another really sunny and hot day here in San Vito Lo Capo, where the waters are clear Caribbean blue- crystal clear! We haven’t seen or felt a drop of rain in ten days. Please check out the next blog or the one prior to this to view the photos. Ciao