Day 2 - Assagi

A motion picture is nothing more than a series of still frames, viewed rapidly one after another, to give the appearance of motion. Life, too, may be seen as a series of discreet episodes, occurring one after another in time, but when viewed from a the distance of memory, appear to be a seamless and purposeful progression. Today was a series of such minute moments. But when viewed together, afterwards, they give the impression of a seamless whole.

I wake a few minutes before the beginning of the big "confectionary workshop," the trade show organized by the Italian Trade Commission to introduce U.S. buyers to local Abruzzo producers of confectionary products. Much effort has been spent to produce an introductory video that will be used not just with this small group of buyers, but also to a more general audience over time. Today we will view this introduction and meet 11 local confectionary producers, taste their products, have an opportunity to ask them questions about those products and their ability to supply the U.S. market and exchange contact information with them.

But I am not thinking of this as I struggle to the sala di colazione for breakfast. It has been nearly 10 hours since I have eaten and yesterday's bacchanalia has begun to wear off. Breakfast is a must. Like a shark (or a flaming Michael Jackson) that must keep moving forward in order to survive, I feel that I must continue to eat or possibly perish. It is a recurring theme for the day, and perhaps, a hallmark of my Italian travel experience (you need only look at previous trip reports for evidence of this).

I arrive for breakfast as all of my compatriots are departing, apparently slightly behind schedule. No worry, for the typical Italian hotel breakfast is self serve. While breakfast in Italy is always nutritious and ultimately satisfying, it is a bedraggled spectacle, generally devoid of joy and lifeless, like a voluptuous victim of a vampire - the curves and sensuous flesh are evident, but there is a pallor and emptiness that belies the world of the living. It is hard to understand why a culture where food plays such a central role fails to show up for the first meal of the day.

I chow down on a couple slices of prosciutto and bread, a little cheese and some terrific coffee (the Italians may be soulless when it comes to breakfast, but their morning meal atheism does not permit them to play the caffeine agnostic). I finish up in less time than it takes me to eat breakfast at home, run up to the room and then head back to the "garden terrace," the rooftop restaurant (where breakfast was served), which will be our home for the next several hours.
In a nondescript conference room a dozen tables are arranged along the perimeter, one for each of the exhibitors to display his array of Abruzzo confections. It is around these tables that serious commerce will take place - the first impressions of product and purchaser will be made, relationships will develop and, hopefully, new products that will enhance the well being and happiness of the American consumer (and the bank balances of artisinal Abruzzese) will be sent on their way to the new world.

And so we talk. And so we learn. And so we impress and strut and preen. But above all, we taste. I am certainly not complaining, but we taste. Small bites of parrozzo, a rustic bread covered in chocolate that is a traditional confection of the Abruzzo. And parrozzo inverso, which is a rustic bread that is covered with sugar, with the traditional chocolate covering inside. And mini-parrozzo, which is a traditional Abruzzo confection of rustic bread covered in chocolate in tiny bite sized portions. And parrozzo with mandorle (almonds). And parrozzo with walnuts. And pocket sized parrozzo. You get the point.

When we finish with the parrozzo, we move to the next table, where a beautifully dressed Italian man tells us stories of a traditional rustic bread called pane dell'orso, named after the local bear (orso) that inhabits the many national parks in the region. The pane is renowned throughout the region as a traditional dessert. We try the one in the round blue box. We try the smaller version in the square red box. We try the one covered with chocolate that is sold in rectangular boxes. We are curious how this bear cake is different from the parrozzo, the very popular name given to the other traditional cake because it was invented by the popular local poet, Gabrielle D'Annunzio. No difference. It is just named after a bear instead.

The Italians (I think) use the word "assagi" from the verb assagiare, meaning "to taste" to denote a taste or a sample. But assagio - a taste - to me connotes more a try, as in "try, try again." The problem with today's assagi, is that while I fully agree that one should try, try again if one does not first succeed, it is another matter altogether to try, try, try when the very first attempts have been successful. I liked the parrozzo. I lived the parrozzo inverso. I liked the pane dell'orso in the red box, and the one in in the green box. Yet I find myself trying each variation, each different packaging. Something is wrong here; the center cannot hold. I began tasting (assagiare) at about 10:30 and it is now after 11:00. I have eaten about a dozen desserts that, like the the Grinchly Christmas presents of the Whos are wrapped in " " . And I have visited only two of nearly a dozen vendors. I am in danger of a real life death by chocolate.

The onslaught continues. More rustic breads and then on to confetti - candy covered almonds that are the specialty of Sulmona, a small mountain town in the Abruzzo. They come, of course, in literally hundreds of varieties, but what catches my eye is the floral presentations that incorporate one or a few pieces in a decorative flower. These are arranged in large flower arrangements that are placed in centerpieces on tables at Italian weddings, christenings and other important occasions.

Torrone, the chocolate covered nougat treat that I though had originated in the Piemonte is, we find out, an Abruzzo specialty. At least according to the Abruzzese, that is. They actually claim that they took the traditional torrone and made a version "morbido," or soft. What is beyond question is the softer variety is delightful and so I taste offerings from a number of producers including the Sorelle Nurzia (the Nurzia Sisters), an establishment dating back to the 1800s. Their pitchman is a pitchwoman, one of those ever so attractive and stylish, self assured women that Italy seems to produce better than the rest of the world. I could eat chocolate and listen to her for the rest of the day.

But there are more tables to visit, more confections to try, including the liquorice offering from the Liquoirizia Menozzi de Rosa. They offer a liquorice root, which one chews and sucks on to extract the liquorice extract. It is a wholly unsatisfying experience, like chewing on a pencil. But their liquirice, which comes in two forms - hard pellets of concentrated liquorice and soft, chewy strands, more akin to American twizzlers - is memorable, even for someone such as myself that generally detests liquorice. The pellets, in particular, while shockingly strong (curiously strong?) leave a pleasant and long lasting taste impression.

And so I finally retire from the tasting room, having sampled many of the wonders of the Abruzzo confectionary universe, suffering an acute case of Dunlops syndrome. It is approaching 1:00 and there is much more to do today. But first we must spend another hour with our producer hosts over, you guessed it, lunch.

Adventures in Abruzzo - Day 1

As I land in Rome early in the morning it seems like just a couple of weeks ago we were in Italy. That's because just a couple of weeks ago we were in Italy, eating our way from the Piemonte to Emilia Romagna and finally to Tuscany. Today I arrive in Rome, bound for a very different destination, the Abruzzo, on a very different kind of itinerary and with very different traveling companions.

As we were leaving Washington, DC for Torino in late October, we were also finalizing arrangements to participate in delegation organized by the Italian Trade Commission to visit the Abruzzo - a lesser known region stretching from the east of Rome to the Adriatic coast. The trip is being sponsored by the Italian Trade Commission, an Italian government agency charged with promoting Italian trade, from food fashion and ceramics to automobiles and industrial machinery. The purpose of this trip is to introduce American buyers to some of the unique, but little known traditional confections of the Abruzzo. The trip has been organized by John Battista of the Italian Trade Commission office in New York. An ICE (the Italian acronym for the Trade Commission) representative by the name of Signore Giorgio is our host and organizer in Pescara, the economic capital of the Abruzzo, and he is responsible for organizing the daily itineraries and arranging the meetings with local producers.

I arrive in Rome an hour and a half behind schedule, the result of a passenger who decided he did not want to fly to Rome after the plane had departed the gate. This late withdrawal requires a lengthy search for his checked luggage, which must be removed from the plane. Little things like this, in the post 9/11 world, have a way of rattling passengers even more than the delay they cause. When I finally arrive in Rome, the group, which includes John Battista and the buyers for five other American food retailers, is assembled, and surprisingly they do not appear to be angry at me for delaying our departure.

We depart Fiumicino airport for Pescara, a drive of little over two hours. We avoid Rome and encounter little traffic and soon we are heading into the Appenine mountains west of Rome. As we reach the frontier between Lazio (the province that includes Rome) and Abruzzo the mountain peaks are covered with snow and the autostrada, which follows the valley between the mountains becomes more and more dwarfed by the ever rising peaks. We pass some of the highest points in the Appenines, but the drive is generally flat, as we alternate from high bridges to long mountain tunnels. The highway skirts some beautiful ancient hill towns, their severe brown stone buildings rising one above another, following the steep contours of the countryside. From a distance these towns appear to have been forgotten by time and untouched by modern progress. There is a feel of poverty about them, and we will need to visit some of them to get a more accurate picture.

One thing is certain. In the broad valleys between the mountains the Abruzzese have made the most of this somewhat inhospitable land. Olive trees stretch as far as the eye can see, blanketing the valleys. We pass isolated herds of sheep in the mountains, which are used for their milk to produce pecorino cheese and for the meat, as well.

Finally, we emerge from one last mountain tunnel and reach the coast, where we make our way to Pescara, a large fishing town that is also the commercial center of the Abruzzo. It would be an exaggeration to describe Pescara as picturesque, charming or even beautiful, especially in the cold, gray drizzle that has accompanied us since landing in Rome. But as we arrive at our hotel, the Hotel Esplanade (Piazza 1 Maggio, 46, 65122 Pescara, tel. 39-085-292141, www.esplanade.net) we see a sandy beach that (in good weather, we imagine) stretches for ten miles. Indeed, the coast of the Abruzzo is apparently a non-stop beach resort that actually starts at Venice in the Veneto and stretches for hundreds of miles to Pescara.

We check in to our rooms and I am teased by a shower that makes hissing noises but emits no water, so it's back to the lobby, unwashed and still slightly reeling from the flight, to meet our local host, Signore Giorgio. After some brief introductions, Signore Giorgia escorts us a few blocks to the Locanda da Pia, a smallish family run restaurant that features local Abruzzese fare. Signore Giorgia, wanting to expose us to some of the local dishes confers with us and orders maccheroni alla chitarra pasta with ragu, the local variety of sauce being made from a combination of lamb, veal and beef. The pasta is a local specialty that is rolled into sheets and then placed over a device that consists of rows of parallel metal wires that resembles guitar (chitarra) strings. The pasta is then cut into strips by being pressed down through the strings by a rolling pin. The resulting pasta is like spaghetti, but rather than cylindrical, it is a long square configuration. No matter how you slice it, though, it is a delicious primi.

We follow the pasta alla chittara with a mixed grill of local sausages and grilled meats. The sausages in particular are outstanding - spicy and smoky from the grill. We enjoy a "salad" of wild greens that are delicately sautéed, like spinach greens or rabe, but with a slightly bitter taste conjuring images of dandelion. Throughout our two hosts, Signore Giorgio and John Battista talk to us about the history of Abruzzo, its principal towns and its traditional products. There is much talk about the bounty of Abruzzo - how it is unique among Italian provinces in producing foods indigenous to the mountains, the plains and the sea. There is talk of seafood meals to come - but will have to wait another day - as the rough weather has confined the fishing fleet to shore and no Abruzzese in good conscience would sell seafood that has not been fished from the waters the previous day. There is talk about tomorrow's itinerary when we will be introduced to Abruzzo confections and will meet nearly a dozen of its principal producers.

We finish our meal with a selection of desserts - half moon shaped cookies called celli pieni that resemble ravioli, stuffed with unsweetened chocolate and fruit preserve and covered with powdered sugar; cantucci, traditional biscotti familiar in Tuscany but which we are assured in no uncertain terms are native to Abruzzo; a chocolate tort cut into narrow wedges; and parrozzo, the most popular dessert in Abruzzo, which we will be sampling later in the trip. We wash down our meal with the excellent local D.O.C. wine Montepulciano d'Abruzzo and have a digestif called ratafia, a distillation of the montepulciano grapes and wild cherries that ends a terrific meal.
After wandering the city streets for a while it is back to the hotel to catch up on sleep and prepare for tomorrow's workshop. It is lonely being here without Suzy and the experience is different - a less full experience as I do not have her inquiry to complement my own. Nonetheless I am thankful to the Italian Trade Commission for inviting us along and am eagerly looking forward to what the next days have in store.

Ciao a presto!

Day 4 - Scanno

On the map, Scanno, our destination this afternoon, is approximately 15 kilometers (about 10 miles) from Sulmona. The drive, however, takes about 45 minutes, as we wind back and forth along a mountain road to this beautiful, but isolated paese, home of di Masso Dolciaria, maker of Pan dell'Orso, another version of the famed peasant cake of the Abruzzo.

We have been told that lago di Scanno (lake Scanno) is one of the most beautiful lakes in Italy, but it is lago San Domenico, less a lake than a slight widening of the Sagittario River, that brings oohs and ahs from the crowd. A milky green color, the lake follows the road for about a mile, giving way to a clear blue color at its source, where we pass through an ancient gateway, marking the final portion of the road to Scanno.

We arrive in the small town at dark, the temperature having dropped precipitously from the afternoon warmth. We make our way to di Masso, where Signore Gino di Masso, owner of the dolciaria welcomes us. Signore di Masso tells his unusual story of reverse immigration, where his father, who had emigrated from Italy to the United States returned to Abruzzo after the war. Although born in Italy, Signore di Masso has an affinity for the United States and is determined to bring Abruzzo (and, of course, Pan dell'Orso) to the attention of America.

We tour the facilities, once again impressed by the how these family businesses are able to meld machinery with the human touch. It seems as though there is a specially designed machine to do every task - mixing the dough, making crepes, covering cakes in chocolate, packaging and sealing finished products - but each process is monitored and nudged by human intervention. Dough is tested, crepes are crunched, chocolate is monitored to ensure it is at the correct temperature for coating and finished packages are boxed by hand. While automated, these are artisinal products that reflect the craftsmanship and care of the humans that make them.

We sample products and then retire to the café run by di Masso to talk about his products. The conversation turns to Abruzzo, however, as Signore di Massso is fiercely proud of his region and Scanno in particular. He asks us how he and his fellow Abruzzese can bring Abruzzo to America and Americans to Abruzzo. A thoughtful conversation follows. Selling Abruzzo to American will not be easy, we agree. It is practically unknown to Americans and lacks the sex appeal of Tuscany or the major cities of Rome, Florence or Venice. It seems to me that Abruzzo will have to grow into the American consciousness over time, slowly building and audience that can spread the word and build a following. It seems to me, too, that it is a goal that is extremely worthwhile, for Abruzzo has so much to offer.

We take leave of Signore di Masso and return to our pullman. Dinner has been planned this evening in Scanno, but the group, swollen from lunch at Gino's, samples of confections throughout the day, and the cumulative gorging of the past several days, decides that we have had enough. We take a stroll around the lovely town of Scanno, retire to the pullman (where Daniel and Monty have been kind enough to supply us with prosecco for the return drive) and head back to Pescara for an evening on our own. Many take the opportunity to fast for an evening as we prepare for our final day tomorrow, which will take us to the capital of Abruzzo - l'Aquila - where we will visit to two torrone producers. Who would have thought that not eating dinner in Italy would be such a welcome pleasure?

Day 2 - More Assagi

We start with thankfully a small crostini with a local lardo (pig fat). For those who think it disgusting to eat pig fat on bread I have one word for you - butter. For lardo (the lardo di Colonata is perhaps the best known variety) has a buttery texture and taste that leaves you wanting more. But, as Alfredo recounts to us, gone are the days such as when he was a little boy and his mama served him obscenely long slices of bread, toasted and slathered with lardo (picture if you will the barber sharpening his straight razor on the sharpening band and now imagine that is mama with a knife, applying lardo to your breakfast toast). This evening's crostini is half the size of an index card, rather than yesteryear's legal size page, and we are better off for this enforced reduction.

We follow the lardo with, what other than a piatto assagio, a sampling of several antipasti including stuffed zucchini flowers, fresh porcini mushrooms and one of the evening's biggest surprises and pleasures, grilled or baked red chili pepper skins. Expecting them to be hot and spicy, we are surprised that they are lightly crunchy, smoky, and taste almost of corn.
Rather than doing the smart thing and paying our bill and leaving, we push onward, drawn to more and more food like a mosquito to a candle, knowing in the end this cannot be good or right or proper. But push forward we do. A farrinella soup, made from farro that is crushed into smaller fragments, is another delightful surprise, particularly helped by microscopic but crunchy croutons and topped with local Pescara olive oil. Because we can not decide on a single secondo, the waiter brings us an assagio of every item he heard one of the group utter. The result is plates of tagliata di razza marchigiana, sliced beef from the Marche cow that is related to the famed Chianina of the Tuscan Maremma; the ubiquitous roast lamb with local saffron; and finally roast rooster. Going through the motions we manage to finish nearly everything, the check is paid and we being the 20 minute walk back to the hotel that does not even begin to work off the massive amount of food we have consumed throughout the day.

Assagi. Perhaps I do not use the word correctly and after today perhaps it is a word that should be banished from my vocabulary. It is difficult to believe that "little tastes" can add up to so much. Like the "one little thin mint" of Monte Python's "The Meaning of Life," it does seem possible that just one more little assagio might make one literally explode. It is said, I think, that Julius Caesar was murdered by a thousand stab wounds, each one in itself non-lethal, but taken together a truly toxic combination. Today I feel as though I have died a death from a thousand assagi. But here in Italy, the home of Julius Caesar, it seems somehow an appropriate cause of death.

After a few small grappe and some spumante, I turn in for the evening. And I dream of tomorrow's meals and all the tiny episodes that will make up the tapestry of this truly wonderful experience.

Day 11 - Positano - Ravello

Our day begins when we draw back the curtains from the door to our balcony to reveal a beautiful sunrise reflecting off the blue sea below. Our hotel, the albergo Le Sirenuse is built into the steep cliffs that rise from the ocean. In fact, the entire town, like the other towns that dot the Amalfi coast, is a series of steep terraces supporting structures that are stacked one atop the other, stepping back and up from the sea. Le Sirenuse consists of 60 rooms on six floors, and each room faces the sea, most with their own private balconies. The views are extraordinary.

After breakfast we take an exit from the floor marked -1 to a narrow, winding staircase cut into the hillside that leads down to Positano's duomo and beach for a stroll through town. After exploring the rocky beach we begin our ascent to the other side of town, up a series of stairs so steep that they surely keep the local cardiologist's kids in private school. When we reach the top, we begin walking back down toward town, stopping in a couple of excellent ceramics shops (the ceramics industry is big here along the coast, not just in Vietri Sul Mare, but also in Amalfi, Positano and Ravello). Two of our favorites are Elisir di Positano and Umberto Carro. In addition to a good display of fine ceramics, Elisir di Positano offers some other housewares. We are interested in purchasing a beautiful linen tablecloth and when it turns out that the only one in the size and pattern that we like is set on a table covered with hundreds of ceramics, the genial owner moves everything from the table to make our purchase possible. Umberto Carro features rustic looking (but extremely high quality) ceramics.

We then head along the coast, back to Amalfi and onward to Ravello, a town perched high (and I do mean high) above Amalfi. While the drive along the coast road is harrowing, the drive inland to Ravello is genuinely dangerous. In SAT terms the drive to Ravello is to the Amalfi coast road as Psycho is to Friday the 13th. It's the real deal.

Fifty years ago, John Steinbeck, writing for Harper's Bazaar wrote the following of Italian traffic:

"to an American, Italian traffic is at first just down-right nonsense. It seems hysterical, it follows no rule. You cannot figure what the driver ahead or behind or beside you is going to do next and he usually does it. But there are other hazards besides the driving technique. There are motor scooters, thousands of them, which buzz at you like mosquitoes. There is the tiny little automobile called "topolino" or "mouse" which hides in front of larger cars; there are gigantic trucks and tanks in which most of Italy's goods are moved; and finally there are assorted livestock, hay wagons, bicycles, lone horses and mules out for a stroll, and to top it all there are the pedestrians who walk blissfully on the highways never looking about. To give this madness more color, everyone blows the horn all the time."

Other than the livestock and wagons, Steinbeck's description holds true today, made even worse along the coast by its narrow winding character (once again, Steinbeck, "a road carefully designed to be a little narrower than two cars side by side. And on this road, the buses, the trucks, the motor scooters and the assorted livestock"). Buses are a particular problem, but it is the incomprehensible decision of the locals deciding to take their daily constitutional along coastal highway at night clad only in black that really throws us. Nonetheless, we manage to get to and from Positano without claiming a single casualty.

Ravello, the road to which narrows to a single lane for about half its length, is yet another gem. It is a small town, which can easily be covered by foot. We have lunch at the Ristorante Salvatore (via della Repubblica, 2) run by a congenial extended family. The glassed in dining room boasts one of the most spectacular views you can imagine. Perched high in the hills above the coast, it looks straight down on the Mediterranean and a number of coastal villages. It is an awe inspiring view and we agree that it would be a true experience to wake up to this view every morning.

After lunch we visit Pascal Ceramics (via della Repubblica, 41; tel. 089-858576). The store is run by Signor Pasquale Sorrentino, a gregarious veteran of over 20 years in the ceramics industry who travels tirelessly to bring the finest and, in our experience, broadest selection of hand painted Italian ceramics we have seen. Pascal is jammed with an extraordinarily broad selection of ceramics selected, commissioned, designed and produced by Signor Sorrentino. We spend several hours with Pasquale, increasing our knowledge about local and regional designs, various artists and their studios and the ceramics market. It is a fascinating meeting with an engaging expert and we leave having made a new friend.

We hop in our car and make our way back to Positano in the dark, thanking our stars for our safe return. Tomorrow we make our way toward Rome for our flight back to the U.S.

Ciao a presto!
Suzy and Bill

Day 10 - Catania - Naples - Vietri Sul Mare - Amalfi - Positano

Day 11 begins nearly the moment Day 10 ends, as we rise at 5am for a flight from Catania to Naples. We have stayed up late, unsuccessfully attempting to find a television broadcast of the Super Bowl. CNN is broadcasting the final score on its crawl at the bottom of screen as we check out of the hotel, satisfying our curiosity.

Our flight is uneventful, but we are again reminded how cheaply you can fly internally on one of the low cost airlines serving Italy. This flight is on Alpi Eagles, with a ticket purchased on the internet. We note, however, that nearly every flight on the tarmac at Catania's Fonanarossa Airport is a low cost carrier airline.

After an hour flight we arrive at Naples airport, quickly get our rental car and just as quickly head to the autostrada for our one hour drive to Vietri Sul Mare. Vietri Sul Mare, a tiny hamlet on the Amalfi coast, is famous for its ceramics that have been popularized by the North Carolina-based Vietri Inc. While ceramics from Vietri Sul Mar run the gamut from classical patterns to whimsical ones, Vietri (the American importer) has popularized a line of patterns featuring childlike versions of animals in vibrant colors. We spend several hours in a number of ceramics shops perusing their offerings. We had heard so much about Vietri ceramics and were excited to see them. The numerous shops display subtle variations on the standard themes and they do not disappoint.

Vietri Sul Mare is near the south end of the costiera Amalfitana (the Amalfi coast), a picturesque and very windy coastal drive that wends its way from Salerno to Naples. The coastal road rises high into the cliffs that plunge steeply down to the dazzlingly blue Mediterranean and then as quickly drops to beach level. A narrow, two lane road, bounded on one side by cliffs and the other by a cement guard rail that prevents you from plunging into the ocean far below, driving is slow and deliberate. At many of the hundreds of switchbacks you have to come to a complete stop to allow oncoming traffic (including buses) to pass by. A number of tiny villages dot the coastal road along the way.

We stop in Amalfi, the town for which the coastal road is named. Although it is off season (even though the weather this February day is a beautiful, sunny 60 degrees, late January and February are extremely off season) and most hotels and restaurants are shut down, there is a good deal of activity in and around the main piazza near the city's beautifully decorated duomo.

Unable to find an open restaurant (other than a fast food pizza place), we press on and stop at Praiano, a small cliffside town between Amalfi and Positano. Parking in any of the coastal towns can be a challenge and Praiano is no exception. We park just outside of town along the side of the road, against the cliff and partially jutting into traffic and begin a treacherous walk back into town. The town appears to be shut down tight as a drum when we are fortunate enough to spy the Ristorante San Gennaro (via G. Capriglione 99, tel. 089-874293). We get a table outside, overlooking the sea and are the only patrons for the first hour, when a lone biker arrives. Basking in the warm sun, overlooking the Mediterranean and enjoying a mixed seafood grill is a wonderful experience.

We finish lunch and press on to Positano, which is about ten minutes from Praiano, to our hotel, Le Sirenuse, one of the great resort hotels in Italy. The hotel has just reopened today after routine maintenance, and we are part of a handful of guests at the hotel. Despite the low season, we are treated royally and are shown to our room with a small terrace overlooking the beach and ocean. It is a majestic setting and a perfect place to unwind and enjoy Italian hospitality.

We hope to do just that and will report our findings to you. Until then

Ciao a presto!
Suzy and Bill

Day 9 - Caltagirone - Piazza Armerina - Catania

Today is another largely travel day - Caltagirone to Catania, where we plan to overnight before taking an early morning flight to Naples on Monday. While we hope to beat an early retreat, it takes longer to pack our bags, which have expanded throughout our trip. As a result, we have to take separate trips down the elevator to the lobby for checkout.

We plan a stop in Piazza Armerina, a diversion that takes us somewhat out of the way from Catania, but seems worth it. Just outside the town of Piazza Armerina is our destination - the Villa Romana del Casale, the country home of a wealthy Roman that was recently excavated and restored. It boasts some of the best preserved Roman mosaics and we are excited to be close enough to make a side trip.

As we check out from the Villa San Mauro we are told the trip to Piazza Armerina and the Villa Romana is about a half an hour. Indeed, the trip is rather simple; one follows the indications from Caltagirone to Piazza Armerina, which appear with dimishing frequency the closer you get to Piazza Armerina; when you finally arrive at the exit for Piazza Armerina simply follow the signs for "mosaici" (mosaics) which route you off the highway into the town of Piazza Armerina. As you arrive outside the town, an access road takes you the town center, which winds you through a number of piazzas, past churches (which, being a Sunday, are choked with pedestrians who dive from our oncoming vehicle), while all the time signs for the Villa Romana become fewer and farther between. If you are like us, you will drive back to the highway and proceed to the second exit for Piazza Armerina, hoping there is better signage for the Villa Romana. Fortunately, this is the case, and numerous signs lead you down narrow streets back to the access road into the town of Piazza Armerina that you took just a few moments ago. At this point your best bet is to pull into a gas station, where you can ask for directions from a helpful attendant (make sure you fill your car with the correct grade of fuel - if you are driving a diesel car, don't fill it with regular gas!). He will likely give you directions in flawless English, telling you to return from the direction from which you came, go through three traffic lights, take a right turn at the hotel and then (unintelligible).

We follow the helpful attendant's directions, departing the gas station exactly as directed. Despite his helpful demeanor, we don't see a single traffic light (let alone three) until we reach Catania several hours later. Instead, we start down progressively narrower and narrower and then even narrower lanes until we have to turn our rental car on its side in order to fit. This leads to a "street" so steep I fear that our car will flip over forward despite the approximately three tons of ballast we have in the trunk. If the street were not made of cobblestone, Tony Hawk would no doubt be hosting an X Games competition on it. At last we arrive at a secret exit from town that reminds us of the exit from the Batcave, and emerge about 50 feet below the highway exit to Piazza Armerina that we took nearly a half hour before. From there, it is a simple, clearly marked five minute drive to the entrance to the Villa Romana del Casale.

The Villa Romana is a terrific stop. You can spend as much or as little time as you want on a self guided tour of the grounds, which is covered in clear plexiglass walls and ceilings with catwalks to protect the ancient mosaics. There are dozens of rooms, each decorated with a different mosaic theme, including scenes of the hunt with exotic animals such as tigers, elephants and wild boars and ancient mythology (including a Cyclops whose three eyes apparently are the result of intermarriage between a two eyed human and a one eyed Cyclops). The most popular scenes, however, the "Room with Erotic Scene" (we'll leave the interpretation to you) and the Room of the Bikini Clad Babes (our translation). The latter depicts eight young Roman girls engaged in athletic pursuits, including working out with Roman versions of barbells, playing with a Roman hackey sack and one girl being crowned Miss Piazza Armerina as the runners up look on waving various large herbs. The effect is overpowering.

Then it is on to Catania. We arrive at the Excelsior Grand Hotel as the few shops open on Sunday begin to close down for the afternoon. The hotel, which has been advertised to us as centrally located is. It is located in the center of a parking lot about a mile from the main downtown area. We are informed that being Sunday, there are no restaurants open in the area, and likely none are open in the town center. Being optimists, we walk to the center and when even none of the Chinese restaurants is open, we begin to panic. As the hour draws closer to 3pm (when all restaurants, even on days other than Sundays, close), our panic becomes more palpable. Fate intervenes, however, and we find the one trattoria serving lunch on Sunday, the Trattoria del Cavaliere (via Paterno, 11, tel. 095-310491). The place is packed with locals, including numerous families with children running about and playing. We settle in for a two hour lunch and enjoy some more nice seafood and pasta.

We wander back to the hotel along the via Etnea to the Giardino Bellini. There is an enormous flea market going on throughout the park. While there is a lot of junk, cheap clothes and toys, nearly every other stall is selling fresh made candies and confections, most featuring almonds that are ubiquitous in this area. Most stalls have their own copper kettles in which they mix almond croccante, almonds in a caramelized sugar that is like peanut brittle. The aroma of the fresh croccante is heavenly.

Our final stop before returning to the hotel to pack for our departure tomorrow is at a patisserie on the via Etnea. I have a my first gelato in Sicily, an island renowned for its ice cream, and I am not disappointed. It is creamy and intensely flavorful. Suzy samples an arrancini, a deep fried ball of rice that comes stuffed with a variety of fillings. It is another Sicilian specialty we feel a need to try. Our kids will be eating a lot of these when we get home.

So it's back to the Excelsior to pack and get an early night in anticipation of a 7am flight to Naples. We hope the weather on the mainland is as nice as it has been here in Sicily. Our first experience here has been a positive one, even if it has been too short. We look forward to returning here in the future to do some of the things we were unable to see this time around, to re-experience the joys we had on this trip and to renew and deepen some of the friendships we made.

Ciao a presto!
Suzy and Bill