The credit card saga: part III
(The conclusion of the whole sorry tale. You can find part I here and part II here) At 1.30 I head back to the bank. Again. I’m beginning to feel like it’s an unhappy second home. As I reach the … Continue reading
(The conclusion of the whole sorry tale. You can find part I here and part II here) At 1.30 I head back to the bank. Again. I’m beginning to feel like it’s an unhappy second home. As I reach the … Continue reading
(To remind yourself of part I of the story, go here) I wake up early on Monday morning. Despite Sarah’s calming influence yesterday, I’m feeling twitchy. What if the card isn’t in the machine after all? Or what if I … Continue reading
It’s Palm Sunday, around 10am, and I’m on my way to the station to catch a bus to Siracusa. I know I’ve got enough money to get my bus ticket, and the people I’m meeting in Siracusa have offered to … Continue reading
A couple of weeks ago I pulled a jacket out of my cupboard that I hadn’t worn in a while, because it’s too lightweight for winter. Spring’s well on its way in now, though, so it was time to break … Continue reading
The crazy guy from the family that lives downstairs is cackling fit to burst, while the little girl with the dog whines at him. “Noooo! Pleeeeeeeeease!” The sound of these two reverberates up and down the street every day. He … Continue reading
Castelbuono is a small town in the mountains near Palermo. Now – full disclosure time – the only reason we went there was to go to a restaurant of which I’d read great reviews. (Yes, I am totally becoming Sicilian: … Continue reading
“There’s something brewing, guys,” says the volunteer guide in front of us. “For sure.” He juts his chin towards Etna in the distance. “Yesterday there were rumblings; today there’s black smoke. Yep, she’s up to something.” We nod, and I … Continue reading
“D’you need a guide?” asks the bushy-haired middle-aged woman hanging about at the entrance to the museum. We nod and she disappears into the office. I hear a mumbled conversation, then an excited shriek: “There’s PEOPLE!” I look at Davide … Continue reading
Davide points through the rain and mist to the giant bronze figure with the outstretched arms at the top of the mountain. With a wink, he says, “He must be cold …” Poor Cristo Signore della Montagna, doomed to spend … Continue reading
Image: Feudo Vagliasindi “I’m Paolo, by the way,” says the angular man in the trendy, thick-framed glasses standing in front of me. “Like my father, and his father and – oh, pretty much all of the men in my family.” … Continue reading