The stop/go rain day, and a trip up the hill to Solunto

12/20 - Termini Imerese to Bagheria - 17.71

Thinking back on this day, I clearly remember one aspect above all else. When I got off the train, it was raining, so I put on my impermeable clothes. However, the walk was uphill for the first stretch, and I was soon sweating profusely. When I was nice and wet on both the inside and outside of my jacket, it stopped raining, so I took the opportunity to take off my backpack, remove the blue rain cover, lift the lid, unclasp the clasp, loosen the 2 (that's two) drawstrings, stuff the jacket inside, and resume walking.

The bright Sicilian sunshine, just having this moment made its appearance, warmed me up, but only for three minutes, when it started to pour again. Sighing, I walked in the rain for about five minutes, but since it was not letting up but only growing stronger, I put my bag down, removed the blue rain cover, lifted the lid, unclasped the clasp, loosened the 2 (yep, two) drawstrings, and pulled out my jacket.

My shirt was pretty wet under my jacket, but it was destined to get only wetter, as the sun came out thirty seconds after I put on my jacket, and started baking me again. This time I walked ten minutes in the sun with my jacket on, expecting rainfall at any moment. But it was suddenly summertime, not a cloud to be seen, so I dropped my backpack, removed the blue rain cover, lifted the lid, unclasped the clasp, loosened the 2 (Due) drawstrings, stuffed in my jacket, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Within one minute, and not a second more than one minute, I felt the first drops, and for the first time on my trip, I felt the pelting of hail stones, dumped as if from a giant bucket over my head. I could not believe it; there were still no clouds, it was not even that cold, I was in Sicily, and here it was hailing, and me without my jacket on.

All I could do was laugh, shaking my head at the improbability of what had just happened. And that wasn't the end, either: I had two more on-off on-off changes that day, and was uncomfortable the entire time, or at least most of it.

In one sense, I'm glad this happened in such an extreme fashion, because it serves to illustrate one of those minor annoyances of this kind of trip that teach patience and humility toward nature. Simply taking off and putting on a jacket is not so big of a deal, but when you add the heat generated by exertion and the added chore of dropping and lifting a 40 pound bag with five steps to open, you begin to resign yourself to walking in the rain uncovered or sweating like a hot dog in a Circle K.

Secondary in my mind was the walk up to the Solunto ruins just outside of Bagheria. Fairly well preserved for its age, the ancient Phoenician town of Solunto was in good shape, having been pretty much left alone since its destruction by the Saracens.

It is still impossible for me to glaze over the fact that I was one of two people in this giant site, and that most of my time there was spent wandering alone. I ate my lunch on a grassy knoll overlooking my day's walk on one side, and the city of Palermo on the other. I had always thought of Palermo as some exotic and faraway land, perhaps never to be explored, and here I was looking down at it in the midst of 2,500 old remains. Rain or no rain, life is pretty damn great.

Since Bagheria was not exactly a booming metropolis nor a charming village, I decided to take the train to Palermo, explore and sleep there, and return by train the next morning.

Palermo is a bit grimy, a bit raw, but at the same time fresh, interesting, and full of culture. I found a cheap hotel on the main drag, listened to the owner cook dinner with her daughter through the one inch opening separating my room from the kitchen, smiled at the grittiness of it all, and went out for my first Palermo meal.