250 shades of green /  by Mario Mirabile

Shortly after landing in Ireland, a few things became apparent to me. Firstly, Dublin airport appears much more efficient than any of the three Italian airports I experienced. I doubt anyone has ever been left standing around in a check-in queue for two and a half hours while they try locate a passenger list as happened to us in Catania. Secondly the traffic appears quite civilized, and as a bonus they drive on the correct side of the road. The experience was not too dissimilar to driving in Melbourne with far less traffic. Thirdly, Ireland is green - very, very green.

The glimpses I caught through the plane windows clearly showed why Ireland is known as the Emerald Isle. Dublin itself is pleasantly treed and grassed - it boasts Europe's largest urban park - but it's once you leave the cities that the full impact of the greenery really strikes you. The beauty is enhanced by the signs of small scale traditional farming that can still seen everywhere - fields enclosed by hedges and stone fences, small herds of sheep and cattle, and farmhouses and hamlets scattered here and there, seemingly at random. The peace and beauty belies Ireland's often troubled past - happily a distant memory for the for the most part - and I found myself constantly wanting to stop just to take it all in.

Oh, and just as I'd been told, the Guinness is better than it is in Australia.

Ciao /  by Mario Mirabile

We leave Italy and depart for Ireland with a final look at the the Italians. The affable and chatty fisherman who shared a name with my maternal grandfather, the gentleman quietly reading the paper on his front porch, the aspiring supermodel and the four old mates enjoying a Sunday morning argument - these are my people, the Sicilians.

Last resort /  by Mario Mirabile

The Sicilians were well aware of the the value of tourism far back as the 18th century. The small seaside towns of Cefalu and and Taormina had been humming along quite nicely on fishing and agriculture for millennia. But when the locals realized there was a lira to be made out of pleasant beaches and stunning scenery, the fishing boats were painted in bright colours and converted into props for painters (and later for photographers), and every second house started selling artisinal gelato. 

Now, there's all manner of attractions. There's all the usual shopping opportunities, every imaginable eating experience (the traditional kebab appears to be quite popular, and we even spotted a couple of Irish pubs), and you often have to pay to lie on the beach. You can even take your life in your hands (sort of) by scaling the dizzy heights of Europe's tallest active volcano, Mt. Etna. It still fascinates me that people will choose to build, farm and live in places where history suggests is not a good idea to do so. Driving up the pleasantly wooded slopes, the landscape is intermittently scarred by lava flows from eruptions as recently as two years ago. But we got up and back safely, and were able to settle back with some traditional Italian food. Anyone for a kebab and a pint of Guiness? 

The Godfather, Part IV /  by Mario Mirabile

Leaving Palermo for our next stop, the coastal town of Cefalu, we decided to swing inland via the town of Corleone. Corleone is, of course, the surname of the fictional Godfather of book and movie fame, and was given to him on his arrival in America by an immigration who mistook the name of his home town for his surname. The area around Palermo is apparently a hotbed of Sicilian Mafia activity, and Corleone one of the main centres. However we saw nothing untoward as we made our way through the countryside, up the steep and narrow winding roads. Corleone seemed a town like any other, although perhaps the colour of the houses and roofs seemed a little more drab. There is even a sign as you enter town which proclaims "CORLEONE: World Capital of Legality - Do Nothing Illegal".

Sicily was considered the granary of the Roman empire. The soil is fertile, but the terrain is steep and rocky, and it can't be easy to extract a living from it. For years, Sicily was characterized by extremes of wealth and poverty, and perhaps this is reflected in the more subdued color of the houses in these hill towns. Nevertheless, there is a rugged beauty in it all, and at times the towns and houses seem an almost natural part of the landscape. 

Home and away /  by Mario Mirabile

I confess my heart leaped slightly when I first spotted the Sicilian coastline through the plane windows. Even though I am thoroughly Australian, this is where my family's roots are, where they worked the land for hundreds of years before war and the subsequent hard times caused my parents to leave in search  of a better life. My enthusiasm was quickly tempered by my first taste of driving in Italy, or for that matter, anywhere outside Australia. Peak hour in Palermo is not for the faint hearted - the traffic goes in every direction simultaneously It's probably OK if you grew up driving in this mayhem, in which case you know the rules. Contrary to popular belief, there ARE rules, it's just that they're not the ones codified in the law books.

Nevertheless, we got to our hotel safely, and I promptly hit the streets. I was initially disappointed with what I found. In Palermo, the apartments buildings crowd together much like any other Italian metropolis, but the colours are more muted and earthy, and everything feels a bit more tired. The great public buildings (except the concert hall) all look like they could do with some renovation. As I walked down the street leading from our hotel, I barely encountered a soul, but things changed when I got closer to the waterfornt.

There was a convention of Bersaglieri in town. Bersaglieri (marksmen) are elite troops distinguished by their distinctive plumed hats and their tendency to do everything in a hurry (ever seen a running brass band???). The mostly retired troops provided great entertainment and following a refreshing gelato (much better and cheaper than up north of course), I made my way back to the hotel via a different route. It was a real eye-opener. Everyone was out having a good time. There was street food on every corner, market stalls and crowds. We'd had crowds elsewhere, especially Venice, but I got the feeling that these people were locals just enjoying their city. I suddenly felt much better about Palermo. Now, if only they could do something about the traffic.

Byron's Bay /  by Mario Mirabile

English romantic poet Lord Byron considered himself a excellent swimmer, and apparently he was. His contemporary, Percy Bysshe Shelly, considered himself an excellent boat designer and sailor, but perhaps he shouldn't have. Both spent time on the Italian Riviera at the Bay of Poets and would venture across the Gulf of La Spezia to the pretty little resort town of Porto Venere. Byron would like to round the point and swim in a rocky little bay dominated by a large cave and now known as Lord Byron's Grotto. Shelly preferred to sail, and deigned his own boat. However, during a patch of bad weather, the boat sank off Porto Venere, and Shelly was drowned. His wife, Mary Shelley (author of Frankenstein), tried to lay the blame on the boat builder, but it was more likely to have been lack of sailing nous. 

Porto Venere is the the starting point for most  boat trips to the Cinque Terre. It presents a charming facade to the harbour, with many of the tall row houses seeming far too narrow to provide usable living space. Behind the harbour, it rises steeply through narrow streets and tortuously long and precipitous staircases to the two features which dominate it's skyline - the imposing Castello Doria, and the tiny but beautiful church of St. Peter. You can still swim in Byron's Bay if you wish, but watch out for storm clouds if you go sailing.

Five and a half /  by Mario Mirabile

The Cinque Terre (Five Lands) are a World Heritage listed series of small fishing and farming villages.  At least they were fishing and farming villages till the world discovered their charms, but it couldn't have been an easy discovery. They can be found perched in improbable locations along the steep shores of the Ligurian coast south of Genoa. The only way to reach them for a long time was by boat or foot, with the more recent addition of rail - there is no road access. The local terrain is incredibly difficult, with the mountains plunging straight into the sea.  While boat access to the villages is relatively straightforward, the location of the farms which dot the coast makes you wonder how people get in and out of them, let alone work the earth.

 The Cinqe Terre have become a major tourist draw-card, with people swarming to marvel at their colorful and steeply terraced houses. Naturally, this means that the hordes need to be catered for {and where possible, fleeced...), so every second house along the main streets has become a trattoria, gelatoria or souvenir stall. Sadly, this has dramatically affected the character of the villages, which of course also detracts from their photographic appeal. It also doesn't  help that the ferry schedules don't lend themselves to being there either very early or very late when the light is best. I kept wishing I could return at sunset, 30 years ago.

I think what made these gems so popular is that they are so close together. There is at most a few kilometers between each of them, making it possible to walk between all five in a single day (at least when the walking track is open). However, similar villages can be found all along the coast. The hamlet of Tellaro is not quite on the same scale, but is similarly attractive, can be reached by bus from Lerici, has a single cafe, and hardly any tourists. Five and a half lands? 

Poetic /  by Mario Mirabile

The bay of poets can be found at the southern end of the Italian Riviera, near the major port city of La Spezia. It takes its name from the many poets and writers who stayed and found inspiration there - Lord Byron, Percy and Mary Shelley, Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf and D. H. Lawrence among many others. It is book-ended by the small resort towns of Lerici and San Terenzo. Both feature a fort above the town, remnants of the days when Genoa was a major naval power and needed to defend its ports. These days, they serve simply to help frame pictures of these pretty little towns.

Postcards /  by Mario Mirabile

Postcards. My parting shot from Venice.

Faces in the street /  by Mario Mirabile

I learned a new Italian word on this trip - ritratto. It means portrait, and it's what I would ask my subjects for rather than a photo. I don't know if it improved my success rate, but it at least sounds less intrusive and confrontational.  All were locals of Venice or the surrounding towns except one. The Japanese girl I spotted several times on the island of Burano. She had a small tripod with her phone mounted on it, and would find a likely location where she would spend several minutes snapping selfies. After we crossed paths for the third time, I couldn't resist asking for a photo (no ritratto this time).

So, in order, I present la tourista, il libraio, il mercante di vetro, il pescivendolo, il professore and la matrona.

Swept away /  by Mario Mirabile

Of course Venice is not all play. Someone has to work, but as long as it's not me, I don't mind. Leaving aside those who sell souvenirs, provide accommodation or cook and dish up food, Venice has it's share of interesting jobs. It could be something as simple as singing 70's American ballads with a thick Italian accent, which let me tell you is much better than it sounds. If you're lucky, you could find plenty of time time to write your journal while baby sitting a collection medieval stringed instruments.  Perhaps you could meticulously engrave intricate designs in gold leaf on glass. And if it's a slow day, you may just have to prop in the doorway and wait for customers.

One common task in Venice is sweeping. The millions of tourists who pass through each year make a terrible mess, and someone's got to clean it up. Aside from the gondoliers, one of the most iconic Venetian occupation is that of spazzino. Every morning, the spazzini take to the streets armed with their distinctive long wicker brooms, which wouldn't look out of place being ridden by a witch. It's hard to believe that these things are anything more than historical affectations for the tourists until you see them in action. They actually do a very good job of cleaning up all the scraps of paper and cigarette butts. And with all the tourists, sounds like a secure job for life.

You wouldn't read about it /  by Mario Mirabile

Libreria Alta Acqua may not be the oddest bookshop in the world, but it's probably up there. It's almost certainly the oddest bookstore in Venice. Tucked away on a hard to find back street, it's well worth looking out if you're in the area. The jovial owner sits perched at the register greeting and chatting with each potential customer as they enter. If you're lucky one of the resident cats will be there to greet you as well. It sells a huge and eclectic variety of books, mostly, but by no means all, in Italian.

What makes it odd? Well, where do I start. Perhaps it's the gondola full of reading material which runs most of the length of the main room, but this is Venice after all. Perhaps it's the bathtubs full of books scattered here and there - very handy in case of flood I suppose, as would be the gondola. Perhaps it's their way of sorting books by tossing them into unreachable locations on top of already teetering piles, cursing, then tossing them back till they stick if they dare to fall (all the while with a cigarette dangling from the corner of your mouth). Perhaps it's the staircase constructed of old and weighty tomes in the courtyard which customers are encouraged to climb so they can admire the canal on the other side of the wall (can you imagine the health and safety issues this would raise in Australia????). Perhaps it's a bit of all of it. You wouldn't read about it - but you just did.

P.S  I found out today that I should have checked out the book sorter's interesting collection of erotica. Sadly, I'm now on the other side of the country and not likely to return soon.