Show Me the Sidestreets in Your Life

This past weekend was, in a word, incredible. As far as hastily planned trips go, my mini-vacation to Trapani, Sicily was a success on nearly every level. Laura and I managed to snag a beautiful hostel right on the coast for only 30 dollars a night, and the owner was a charming woman named Alessandra. She greeted us with Marsala wine and some local pastries (anyone who introduces herself by giving me a glass of wine and a donut instantly reaches a level of sainthood in my book) and proceeded to map out everything that there was to see in Trapani. After assuring her that there was no way that we were going to rent a car, she gave us advice on places to go to on foot. After showing us where she kept the complimentary snacks, she let us pick out our room (we were the first guests to arrive, and the only non-married couple, so we snatched the room with two beds). After proceeding to geek out for 15 minutes over the sheer awesomeness of our current situation, we collapsed into exhausted yet happy heaps onto our beds and fell asleep.


The next two and a half days were amazing. We spent most of our time in Trapani itself, navigating its winding streets and avoiding getting our feet ran over by the cars that insisted on weaving their way through the already cramped space. Our first day we walked the entire length of the old city walls, going to lookout points that offered impossibly beautiful panoramas of the city and the water. I've come to the conclusion that the color blue back home has nothing on blue in Italy (see above picture). I've never seen such a brilliant sky, or such a beautiful sea. All we could do was stand there and stare. Which, of course, incited the entire population of Trapani to so the same thing. I don't know much about the tourism industry in Sicily, but the locals stared at us like we were the first non-Italian people they had seen in months, if not ever. We would walk into restaurants and the waiters would look genuinely surprised to see us. It made for excellent service. But the best part was walking down the road lining the beach, where people would literally slow down in their cars and watch us pass. Awkward? Yes. Especially seeing as we were unshowered, unkempt, and an unimpressive pair of individuals in general. But apparently traffic-stopping fascinating. Oh well. I'll take it.


The other major highlights included sneaking into what I'm pretty sure was supposed to be an off-limits ruin of... something. But after watching a few other people check it out, Laura and I snuck through a gap in the fence and explored. It was kind of eerie because we were so far away from the sounds coming from the road, and all we could hear were the seagulls and the noise of the waves crashing into the rocks. We just wandered around and took pictures, hoping that no crazy old Italian fishermen would come after us for trespassing.




But the highlight of the trip was easily our trip to Erice, at the top of a nearby mountain. The cable car to the top wasn't running because it was winter (60 degrees and not a cloud in the sky? These people should see a Wisconsin winter.), so we took a bus to the top. I kept having nasty visions of the bus taking a mistimed turn and careening off the edge of the mountain into the sea, but we managed to make it to the top in once piece. The view was spectacular. We were fortunate enough to have a clear day, which usually only happens during the summer months. Apparently, we could see all the way to Tunisia. Epic? I think yes.


So Laura and I spent a few hours wandering around the medieval town, checking out the castle ruins, taking pictures with 600-foot drops, and befriending the local wildlife. Unfortunately, we weren't quite prepared for the sudden and violent drop in temperature, and we ended up taking refuge in the entryway of a local church. Listening to the mass being said in Italian was strangely comforting. We spent about half an hour directing latecomers to the correct door ("No, no, QUESTA porta!") until we finally made our way back through the biting cold to the bus stop. Then, we proceeded to sit in growing fear that our bus would not show up, constructing hypothetical circumstances that involved us stranded at the top of a mountain in Sicily without our hostel owner's phone number and with poorly-thought out clothing choices. Thankfully, the bus did in fact arrive, and we made fast friends with the bus driver. After arriving back in Trapani, we had a second dinner and called it a weekend. Best life decision ever.


So the moral of the story? Sicily is epic.


And because this post isn't long enough as is, here are some fun "by the numbers" for you all:

85: Amount paid in Euros for taxi fares to and from the airport
60: Amount that should have been paid for said taxi fares
10: Hours of sleep we got the first night
60: Average temperature during the weekend
A lot: distance we walked during our three days
5: Meals we had on Saturday
3: Number of those meals that were composed entirely of pastries
98%: Percentage of local teenagers that were dressed like emos
Everyone: Amount of local Sicilians that stared at us like we were the only tourists within a 60-mile radius
0: Number of other tourists within a 60-mile radius
8/9: Times that the locals understood where Minneapolis was
0/9: Times that the locals understood where Nebraska was
2: Number of times that people thought we were British
1: Number of times that people thought we were German
90: Minutes it took us to find a gelateria
2: Times we frequented said gelateria in a 6-hour time period
1: Number of pigeon turf wars we incited
8:00 pm: Time when all the stores closed during the weekend (Really?)
As big as your face: Size of the local authentic Sicilian cannoli
2,50: Amount in Euros paid for said cannoli. My life is now complete.