Easter Sunday - Islands of Favignana & Levanzo
April 16
Paolo, my B&B host, had arranged for a boat trip to the Islands of Favignana & Levanzo off the coast of Trapani. He said they were beautiful and this is a trip I had to make. I wake, dress and go to the breakfast room. The only other guests that morning are the Italian couple that I’ve heard, but missed meeting for the past couple of days (they are early risers, I am not!). Paolo mentions that the Italians are going on the boat trip too – and off they go. Breakfast is beautiful & plentiful, but I decide since I’m getting onto a boat, I better eat light. Turns out – that was a smart move!
I walk down to the harbor; the weather is looking a little overcast and it looks like it could even rain. I go up to the booth to pay the balance of my fare and the gals that are checking people in are pretty funny. We get into a conversation about change because the 50E I’m trying to pay with is not going to fly. I end of scrounging change & some smaller bills to get it paid. I ask why is it that the bancomat’s give out 50E bills if no one has change? And then add, why do people seem to hoard coin in this country?? (I should mention that one of the gals spoke really good English – because I’m sure my Italian is not good enough to have had this conversation otherwise!!). She says that they just don’t make enough coin . . really! And apparently 5E bills are really hard to find. Really?? I jokingly say, “maybe you guys should start printing & making your own” and she loves that and starts to tell the rest of the crew that this is really what they should do and they’re all chiming in, getting into this, and thinking this is a really good idea. My God, what have I started?? This is Mafia country and I’ve just made a really bad suggestion that very well could land me in cement boots at the bottom of the harbor – because I’m suggesting cutting in on the Mafia’s action. Kari – shut up and get on the boat!!!
I board the boat & look around for a seat and see my Italian B&B mates. I decide, what the heck, it’s high time I meet them. So I go over & ask if I can join them at their table & introduce myself. Their names are Vincenzo (always a good sign) and Shelia. They don’t speak much English but Vincenzo is trying really hard and I’m trying equally hard with my basic Italian – and guess what? – we become fast friends. During the course of the next hour I find out that they’re from Livorno, Italy (that’s on the coast just south of Pisa), that Vincenzo is a retired policeman but it now involved in some type of restaurant, that they have 3 kids & 5 grandchildren – and that they do not get seasick!
The farther we travel, the worse the sea is getting and the boat is really pitching right & left. Thank God it’s not hot – cause the combination would have put me over the edge. And while I didn’t eat much, I still feel like I could hurl my breakfast – but I’m cracking up & trying to speak English and Vincenzo is asking me every 5 minutes if I’m OK. The tour guide comes by to ask if we want to go on a walking tour when we arrive and while I really just want to know how much longer I have to be on the boat before I can stand on dry land – Vincenzo says “yes” and pays the fee for the three of us. Oh well, I’m going on a walking tour! At that point, the guide said it would be about 15 minutes; it felt like 50! We’re finally docking & I’m like the 5th person off of the boat.
The walking tour is interesting, but everyone’s getting frustrated that it’s taking so long because the guide has to repeat everything in Italian and English, so people are wondering off and doing their own thing. Since Vincenzo treated & I’m now getting special attention from the guide (as I’m the only one left that speaks English) I decide to stick it out. Contrary to Paolo’s insistence that I make this trip, Favignana is not that glorious or impressive. But it’s quaint and it’s got some interesting history about quarries, a family that owned the place, and the tuna massacre story - that it’s plenty of info to hold my interest. We finish up across from the Tuna Museum and are told we have about 75 minutes more to explore on my own. I tell Shelia & Vincenzo that I’ll meet them back at the boat and head to the Museum (I just can’t seem to get enough fishing stories on the trip – who’s channeling me now??).
The whole story of the Tuna Museum and the Great Tuna Massacre is pretty cool and mighty impressive. I’ve heard most of my life stories about how hard it was at sea for my grandfather when he fished and how many accidents he had while fishing that could have ended his life – so I knew fishing was hard work. This place brings that home loud & clear. These guys used to build this “compound” of nets, up to 10 miles in length along the tuna’s swimming route. The tuna would end up in the last “chamber” called the “death room” where the fisherman were waiting with spears. Now, these are BIG fish and it took multiple spears and multiple men to kill them & haul them into the boats and these fish did not come in without a big old fight – hence the danger to these men. The museum is full of stories, and videos, and boats, and equipment that all tell the story of the Great Tuna Massacre. It also has about 24 holograms of the people of Favignana telling their stories. Fishermen, their wives, various workers from the processing plant (the museum is where the tuna were brought for processing) all telling their stories. Of course, they were all speaking Sicilian so I wasn’t completely certain of what they were saying, but nevertheless, very cool to watch.
Check out the links below if you would like to read more on the Great Tuna Massacre. This method of fishing was used for thousands of years – but the reduction in tuna populations and the method (considered inhumane by some) has forced fishermen to adapt to more conventional types of fishing.
On my way back to the boat, I stop into a pharmacy in hopes of scoring some TUMS – but they have no idea what I’m talking about and try to sell me laxatives (last thing I need on a boat). I grab a lemon granite instead because surely, sorbet will help calm my tummy! Back on the boat, the captain says we’re going to go over to a calm & quiet cove to drop anchor and have lunch. The crew goes to work like an efficient catering operation dropping utensils, napkins, cups and a bottle of wine on each table. We’re then served the traditional sandwich of Trapani – which I’ve had every morning at Paolo’s and have fallen in love with, so I am happy (Paolo’s were better though). I’m going to make these for my Dad . . Trapanese bread topped with sesame seeds (left over from Arab occupation apparently) filled with olive oil, parmesan cheese, slices of fresh Sicilian tomatoes and chopped Castelvetrano olives (my favorite). Yum, Yum!! Then we’re served a big plate of Trapenese pasta (but again, I’ve had this before). It’s not like the one I had at the cooking school (which was fresh & better) but it’s good and seems to be settling in my tummy OK. Dessert is a cup of fresh strawberries and bananas. Did I mention, Vincenzo is pouring wine through the whole meal and I’m really not that successful at pushing back . . after all, I was raised to be grateful for the generosity of others!
They raise the anchor and we set off for the island of Levanzo. It’s supposed to be about 25 minutes – feels like 25 hours!! The sea has really gotten hostel now and the boat is pitching even worse than before. Shelia is sitting closest to the window and water is coming in and getting her wet & soaking the table we’re sitting at. We’re all laughing as the crew comes running with towels to try to dry her & everything else off. I’m feeling the effects again – and this time my stomach is a bit more full of food. But just as I think I must go outside and get some air, the very best distraction arises at the next table. A woman starts singing what sounds like an Italian folk song & every one that can, chimes in. There’s now about a dozen of these Italians, singing at the top of their lungs, banging “percussion” on the tables and having the time of their lives. Now a woman is standing on the bench and directing the songs and they just keep singing for the next 15 minutes. The captain comes down & joins in too (who is driving this boat anyway?). Vincenzo chimes in and turns out he has a GREAT voice. For the rest of the day and evening, he serenades Shelia & me (I found out later that they’d only been married for 2 years and Vincenzo is madly in love with his new bride – so the serenading was really for her). I wish I had felt well enough to pull out the camera and take some video of this “concert” but I was just trying not to hurl!
We arrive at Levanzo (finally) and I now understand why Paolo insisted I make this trip. This place is quintessential Mediterranean and I think I might want to live here. Population: 80. Don’t they have room for 1 more?? I took my best pictures on this island, including the beautiful orange boat that’s the headline for this post. I was so proud of this picture that I emailed it to my Dad the next day. He said I was developing an artistic eye – first time I’ve ever heard that in my life. While my talents are many – artistic has never been one of them. Who says an old dog can’t learn new tricks!!
I decide I’m riding up top on the way back – I need the fresh air. I end up talking with this great woman all the way back. She’s half French & half English. She & her husband have 4 boys (12-17) and they’re living in Milan. She’s a family practice doctor (wanted to be an anesthesiologist – but the 4 boys killed that) and her husband is an architect. They just finish 6 years living in France and she hated it. She said she doesn’t like what the French have become (didn’t ask what that meant, just happy to have a nice French lady, speaking English to me after weeks of Italian!!). Milan is their dream city and they will probably stay there as long as they can (and the kids are in American school, because it’s the best – go figure – these Europeans are constantly surprising me!!)
We’re back on dry land and I try to invite Vincenzo & Shelia to join me for a gelato (it’s that time of day) but Vincenzo says, no, we’ll get one tonight (I forgot to mention that they invited me to join them for dinner that night). I go for a gelato anyway and they walk back to the B&B.
At 8pm, we meet up & start walking to the restaurant where I must have the pistachio pesto & prawns that they had a few nights ago. I’m definitely in! But, it is Easter Sunday after all and the place is closed. Bummer! We walk down the harbor in search of something else – everything seems to be closed. We find one place that’s setting tables and ask if they’re open – no, they just closed. Vincenzo tells the owner that I’m an American from San Francisco and that he needs to make a good showing so does he have any suggestions. The owner makes a few calls and then says, why don’t you just come home with me and have dinner with my family. Of course, if it had just been me, I would have taken him up on it in a heartbeat (as I was told, never refuse an invitation in Sicily) but Vincenzo thanks him and we move on. We find ourselves back up on the main drag and by this little pizzeria (for point of clarification, they have stuff other than pizza) that I ate at the first night in Trapani (and where my new friend, Tony the waiter, works).
We’re greeted enthusiastically by Tony - and Shelia & Vincenzo are so impressed that I know this guy. Tony & Vincenzo are babbling in Italian – so fast I can’t really understand all they are saying, but I’m pretty sure that it was about me! Vincenzo orders a bottle of delicious wine and asks what I would like to eat. When I say the chicken piccatta – he says kind of disgusted that I must have fish. The next thing I know, he’s ordered for all of us and it’s bottarga (salt cod) bruschetta and swordfish agrodolce – both delicious – and I am shown that Sicilian machismo is not dead! Vincenzo orders me tiramisu for dessert and despite not liking coffee or tiramisu, I happily gobble it down (remember, I was raised right!). I take out my wallet to pay and Vincenzo says – no, it’s all taken care of. Friendship & generosity – what a nice way to spend Easter.
The next morning, we say our good byes over breakfast, as Sheila & Vincenzo are heading over to Ragusa for a few more days of vacation. We tell Paolo all about our day and night and he seems very pleased that we’ve all made a connection. I hug Sheila good bye and then go to Vincenzo. He gives me a big bear hug and then places his hands on my shoulders, holding them like he wants me to pay attention. In his very best English, he says, “I love you” – with a smile as big as Sicily! He makes me promise to call when I get to Livorno or Pisa and promises he will come pick me up whenever I call.
My Dad was worried about my being alone for Easter.
It was never meant to be Dad.
Vincenzo & Sheila were sent to me to ensure I had an Easter to remember . . . and I wouldn’t be alone. And, when the best picture of the trip is of a boat named Antonina that I found, bobbing in the water, on Easter Sunday . . . I most definitely, was not alone.
Footnote – I was really curious about this policeman turned restaurant connection with Vincenzo and ended up asking Shelia endless questions to get a real understanding of what it was (her English was almost non-existent – so I really had to work hard at my Italian). Turns out Vincenzo had opened a Pasticceria (bakery) and was the head baker. She showed me tons of pictures of his creations. Small world, no wonder we connected so strongly!
