SICILY 2007 - Week 4

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WEEK 4 NEWS - Corleone, Western Highlands, Agrigento  and the southern coast:

The opportunity to visit Corleone with its infamous Mafia history seemed 'an offer we couldn't refuse'. But 2 factors bothered us: how would local people react to obvious voyeurs from the outside world, and what would be the state of roads in western Sicily's mountainous interior. We need not have worried on either score.

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Leaving behind the coast at Ribera, the road gained height quickly into hilly terrain, not bleak and barren as expected but green and steeply rolling, with small hill-top settlements like Villafranca Sicula (Photo 1). Limestone country brightened by yellow crown daisies, gave way to more rugged sandstone with sweeping empty moorland as the road steepened towards Corleone. First impressions of the town were not at all as expected: modern apartment blocks on the outskirts gave the town a more benign air than its sombre history would suggest. Uncertainly, we edged through the maze of narrow, cobbled streets to park in a quiet square. We felt self-conscious as obvious visitors, drawn here by Corleone's Mafioso associations, but on a quiet Sunday afternoon, it was no different to any other Sicilian town (Photo 2) with crumbling, locked churches, narrow winding streets, and seedy-looking alleys strung with washing.

Post-war official statistics show Corleone to have had the world's highest murder rate with 153 violent deaths out of 18,000 population between 1944 and '48. Mafia killers brought to trial were usually acquitted for lack of evidence as fear of reprisals and omertà (code of silence) prevented witness cooperation. For over 50 years, Corleone was the territory of the most feared Mafia clans; many Mafia godfathers who had exercised control over international networks of crime and corruption originated from Corleone including Salvatore Riina, the so-called Capo di Tutti Capi (Boss of all Bosses) and leader of the Corleonese Mafia, who was captured by the Carabinieri in 1993 betrayed by his driver. He was the most wanted man in Italy, held responsible for ordering at least 150 killings, 40 of which he committed personally. Once Riina was imprisoned, the political fall-out began: which corrupt politicians or senior police had protected him to live openly with his family in Corleone for over 20 years? With this notorious episode and its aftermath, fact and fiction merged: the town was chosen by Mario Puzo as the adopted name of Don Vito Corleone, the central character of The Godfather.

We ambled through the narrow streets of the now quiet Sicilian town, eying the few elderly gents we passed, wondering about their past history. The town's one point of interest is the opening in recent years of the Museo Anti-Mafia, to educate both Sicilians and foreign visitors about the town's murky past. In order to visit this, we 'camped' overnight in a small square in the back streets of Corleone; and at 6-00 pm, we joined the evening ritual of passegiata when Sicilians take their evening stroll around the town and gather to socialise. Although slightly low-key, the Anti-Mafia Museum is a brave undertaking, displaying photos of Mafia killings and arrests of Mafia bosses and the corrupt politicians on whose protection they relied. Our Italian was not up to the many questions we longed to ask. And did you know that, foreshadowing the Allied invasion of Sicily in July 1943, US authorities secured Mafia cooperation with the bribe of release from jail of New York Mafia boss 'Lucky' Luciano and promises to appoint Mafiosi as mayors of liberated Sicilian towns. Through this control of local Sicilian politics, the Mafia gained domination for years afterwards of lucrative building contracts. There's a long history to cynical US shady international dealings.

On a bright March morning, we left Corleone to drive across the empty mountainous interior, with snow glinting on distant peaks, to the isolated hill-top town of Prizzi. So many ancient houses with their pan-tiled roofs were tight-packed around this 3,000 feet mountainous ridge (Photo 3). We spent a happy couple of hours, lost in the bewildering maze of alleyways and steps, where amazingly small battered Fiats strained their handbrakes to remain parked. Finding directions was even more of a puzzle; in Sicily the rule seems to be 'You will get as many answers as Carabinieri you ask, and none may be right anyway'. Life in Sicily is one constant learning experience.

We returned to the south coast, but first had to visit a curious geological phenomenon, the Vulcanelli di Macalube. 3 kms south of the market town of Aragona, you see a grey-looking expanse of muddy ground; the land-owner's palm had been crossed with EU silver to exchange what for him had been sterile ground into a nature reserve. The rare phenomenon of sedimentary volcanism occurs where methane gas bubbles up amid pools of mud to form 1m high cones of dried mud. We carefully stepped around this localised incongruous lunar landscape of utterly sterile cracked mud, dotted with bubbling pools and the small 'vulcanelli, the result of this pseudo-volcanic activity (Photo 4).

And so on to Agrigento, to camp by a glorious expanse of golden sand at Camping Nettuno near the small resort of San Leone. In the early evening, the sun set with a ruddy glow over the sea, and the following morning, we breakfasted under acacia blossom, the air filled with bird-song and sound of surf on the nearby beach (Photo 5). Agrigento (ancient Akragas) was founded in 580 BC as a colony of Gela just along the coast. The site was well-chosen: good anchorage and seaward access to western Mediterranean trading routes, fertile hinterland for cereals, vines and olives and hills for horse and cattle breeding, ensured rapid development for Akragas. The colony prospered as a major cultural centre, described by the lyric poet Pindar as 'the most beautiful of mortal cities'. The main body of the ancient city spread over the higher ground now covered by the urban sprawl of modern Agrigento. Its prosperity found expression in sumptuous sanctuaries and temples built along the prominent escarpment which formed the city's southern fortifications. But prosperity brought unwelcome rivals and the city was sacked by the Carthaginians in 406 BC. Viewed from the south, Agrigento's so-called Valley of Temples spreads for a km along this sandstone ridge, backed by the modern city whose illegal urban growth from Mafia money-laundering rackets threatens to encroach upon the classical temples site with ugly concrete intrusion.

We drove up from the coast, with the golden sandstone of the temples glowing in the morning sunshine. It was at the point of crossing lines of traffic into the Agrigento car park that we had a sudden insight into the difference between Sicilian and North European driving cultures: we Anglo-Saxons are accustomed to a driving culture which might be described as 'punitive and preventative' - I'm so determined to get in first that I'll prevent your passage come what may, using punitive aggression if need be, even if I put myself at risk. Totally daft, it's based on a win-lose mentality and even worse in our yobbish society leads to road rage. Despite its reputation, Sicilian driving, on the contrary, is based on a win-win attitude, 'assertive but enabling' - he who asserts goes, but with a reluctant shrug I'll allow others to get through. Once adjusted to this essential difference, driving in Sicily becomes fundamentally less fearful.

You can see more about Agrigento's classical temple remains on  www.valleyofthetemples.com/English.htm

One of the best preserved of classical temples, known as the Temple of Concordia, stands centrally along the line of Agrigento's ridge (Photo 6); the deity to whom it was dedicated is unknown and it owes its fine state of preservation to being converted to an early Christian basilica. The colonnade, cella and pediments are complete; it's a magnificent sight, even more starkly beautiful set against the unsightly backdrop of the modern city. At the far end of the ridge, less intact but equally monumental is the 5th century BC Temple of Hera. The earliest of Agrigento's temples, dedicated to Heracles, still has 9 out of the original 38 columns standing; the others lie strewn in heaps of debris among olive trees and Opuntias. It really is the most charming spot of the whole temples complex. Across in the western area are the remains of the monumental Temple of Zeus, built in celebration of the Carthaginian defeat at Himera in 480 BC. Nothing remains but a mega-heap of blocks and column drums, but the temple's base shows its enormous scale, the largest known classical Doric temple. Lying like a fallen giant among the ruins is one of the Telamons, 30 feet high Atlas-like stone figures which once supported the roof. Late March is a perfect time to visit: the lighting is perfect for photography, the Spring sunshine pleasantly warm without being overbearing with a fresh crispness in the air, and the crowds at sites like Agrigento not too intense. It was a day long to remember.

We moved eastwards along the coast, past the small town of Palma di Montechiaro, a social black-spot even by Sicilian standards. Looking like a third world shanty-town, Palma has the highest infant mortality rates in Europe. Its depressing air ironically symbolises the centuries of oppression, isolation, lack of education and employment opportunities and grinding poverty which divided the down-trodden peasantry from a decadent land-owning aristocracy, such as the Lampedusa family whose palace was in Palma. The most famous was Giuseppe Lampedusa (1896~1957) whose novel Il Gattopardo (the Leopard) describes the social upheaval caused by Sicilian unification with Italy in mid-19th century.

Across the coastal plain where hectares of polythene cloches grow melons, Due Rocche Camping was our base for visiting Gela. Now Gela is not a place you would chose to visit, unless you had a special reason. Known locally as 'Beirut', whether from the overshadowing presence of the oil refinery which pollutes both the air and waters of the bay, or the ugly mess of uncontrolled urban over-development, or the inter-clan Mafia violence which still exercises powerful control over local business, Gela is certainly not an attractive place for visitors. But the oil refinery has at least provided employment for local boys with previously no hopes other than travel to Germany as migrant workers; the city may be the pits, the roads and traffic bewildering, but Gelans were the most courteous and helpful people we had met. Gela had been a wealthy Greek colony since its foundation in the 6th century BC, a flourishing agricultural and ceramics centre and focus of the arts: Aeschylus wrote his Oresteia trilogy in Gela, dying there in 546 BC when according to legend an eagle dropped a turtle on his bald head mistaking it for a rock. Paul was extra wary in Gela fearing that history might repeat itself! It was also the first European city to be liberated by the Allies in 1943. Our reason for visiting Gela was to see the city's historical remains. The Archaeological Museum displays superb examples of the ancient city's ceramic artwork, and the excavations, albeit overshadowed by the oil refinery, are impressive, particularly the 4th century BC fortification walls.

It was time to move back into the interior, and on a sunny Palm Sunday morning, we drove up through the limestone hills to the old town of Butera, perched loftily on precipitous crags with modern apartment blocks spread around the approaches. The hill-top setting gave panoramic views across distant hillsides of vines and olive groves. As we parked to walk up into the old central quarter, fireworks reverberated around the hills like medieval artillery. The Palm Sunday celebrations were in full swing, and the main piazza was filled with local people enjoying the celebrations. Many carried olive sprigs and railings were decorated with palm branches, and we happily joined in the fun (Photo 7).

Our reason for a return to the interior was to visit 2 more archaeological sites. The first was the excavated 4th century AD imperial Roman villa of Casale, a hunting lodge for Diocletian's co-emperor Maximianus (286~305 AD). The particularly distinctive features are the magnificently preserved and elaborate mosaics adorning the villa's floors. But be warned; it is very much on the tourist trail and this small site, tucked away in a rural backwater, is daily swamped by 100s of tour-buses. We wild-camped that night along the lane leading to the site and, setting our morning alarm for 6-00 am, were able to be at the villa for opening time at 8-00 am. The site is now protected by clear-roofed covering, and walk-ways allow visitors to look down on the spectacular floor mosaics, which include chariot racing scenes, a hunt showing exotic animal species (tigers, lions, ostriches, elephants and rhinos) and portraits of the imperial family. But the most renowned mosaics show 10 girls wearing 'bikinis' and performing gymnastic exercises (Photo 8). But by 9-30 the school parties and tour buses were swarming in; time for a sharp exit.

As the noisy tourist hoards invaded, we departed to move to the infrequently visited site of the ancient Greek colony of Morgantina, 3,000 feet up into the Sicilian mountains near the village of Aidone. Excavations on a small plateau surrounded by hills have revealed the city's central square (agora) with its enclosing colonnaded stoas, sanctuaries, clearly laid-out houses with fragmentary mosaics, and a lovely small theatre. We spent a happy afternoon exploring and botanising among the excavations, but the weather was turning. We had planned to move further inland to the city of Enna in the centre of Sicily, but rain and mountain cloud obscured the hills that night. We stayed and wild-camped amid the murky mountains by the ghost town that once was Morgantina.

Our knowledge and understanding of Sicily, its history and culture, continues to increase; the more we learn, the more comfortably happy we are living here among such warmly hospitable and friendly people. Next week, we travel to the island's south-eastern corner and back to the coast to visit the towns devastated by the disastrous earthquake in 1693 and rebuilt in the outrageous Baroque style of the 18th century. Join us again next week to share our ventures.

Sheila and Paul                                                                                                                  Published: Monday 16 April

Music this week:
Waltz from the Godfather

   Alsace 2006   Greece 2006

   Hungary 2005

   Pyrenees 2005    Slovenia 2004   Greece 2004
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