It had been a late night for the second time in two days, and the incomparably hospitable group of guys insisted that I stay another day, and see a little bit what life here was like. Though at first I was inclined to leave, having toyed with the idea of finishing before Christmas, and anxious to explore more of Sicily, I had one of my periodic perspective calibrations. When would the next time come around that I would get to meet such a great group of friends, and have the insider's perspective on a Sicilian town? While I was in control of my time, the best idea was to invest in these wonderful friendships, learn all I could, and continue to build memories. The rest of Sicily would be waiting for me tomorrow. Of course, this line of reasoning has a limit, at the point when a warm welcome turns tepid, but this day was still within that limit, and I was sure of having made the right decision. Finally, just to close the discussion, I recognized that this "calibration" was a complete turnaround from my decision just a few days prior to stop lollygagging in the Sicilian mountains, but I decided that a guaranteed positive experience like this one could not be missed, and after all, it was just a one day pause.
What made the decision still sweeter was that I got to sleep in, take my time getting ready, and not have to bother packing up. Oh, the delight one receives from such simple luxuries! As Vincenzo was busy, I sidled on over to Gino's shop, Decor, one of the many ceramics stores in town. Intending to simply pay him a visit, I quickly became enamored of the handiwork, quality, and artistry of the ceramics, and spent a sizable chunk of time asking questions and examining different pieces. I was so impressed by his Uncle's skill that I bought two pieces for my mom as a Christmas gift, and two pieces for myself, which in itself as notable, as it is the only time that I have purchased a memento for myself throughout my entire trip. Just take a look at these pieces, both of them one of a kind, hand painted by Gino's Uncle, and then think about the amount of talent and experience 
it takes to perfect this craft: knowing how the colors will change, mixing in the right amount of water to avoid cracks or bubbles, applying the enamel, firing it twice for the exact right amount of time, and even hand working those beautiful curves in clay. I will never look at ceramics in the same way.Having satisfied my desire to purchase a piece of S. Stefano, which in a sense was one small way of saying thank you to such a hospitable town, Gino and I moseyed the 50 yards down to the Tabaccheria where Alberto works, managed by his girlfriend Paola. There the three of us shot the bull for a bit, the generous Alberto handed me a bag full of chocolate bars and an international photo card, and when they headed home for lunch, I headed back to the B&B for a little rest, writing in the journal, and listening to music. Actually, it was here that I wrote the bulk of my four-post music analysis.
That evening, I took a tour in an old ceramics factory turned aristocratic house turned museum, and when it was time for dinner we happily found ourselves back at Ritrovo Felice (Italian-English speakers will enjoy my cheesy redundancy), Pepe's fabulous restaurant. I met two more guys, Vincenzo (the other Vincenzo's cousin) and Ciccio, and sampled more delightful dishes, including a giant, succulent pork shank, which made me feel like a Hun chieftain. Since everyone was pretty dead from the night before, I said my goodbyes, promised to return, and went back to the B&B. The road was calling.
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1 comment:
Must have been a happy meeting.
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