To Distant Areas-II: Sicily. Part Fourth.

I stood on cancellation of final journey, which was to Syracuse. Being in The Godfather films places and concluded on Bar Vitelli was the best end for the second stage. But I changed my mind after breakfast by that I need to busy myself and I took a ride to there were Archimedes was from, a man who made grandiose breakthroughs in mathematics and invented amazing machines for protect his fellow Carthaginians in Second Punic War but his nation didn’t win that battle and, personally, this monumental man was killed by enemy Roman soldier.

Almost little had in reminding of Archimedes’ times. Nowadays Syracuse presented as a dormitory suburb. Approaching to Ortigia, a half-island territory, had more attractive buildings but they weren’t excitement in architecture. I went out from a transport and walked almost two and half kilometers in forward direction. I read that a car movement on Ortigia is restricted but I saw many parked and sometimes moving vehicles in alongside with everywhere garbage. I stopped only at one bridge under which was a garden but I did it because my attention took a duck with a black head. I was at Arethusa Pond where could discover pieces of litter too. It was once when I halted in stepping on a way to a place which I chose as a final destination in that stage and to which I started to have a thinking days before that it willn’t take my interest.

A place had a limited time in that day. It worked until 12.45 but a clock was at eleven when I came to that structure, which was Castello Maniace. I acquired a ticket to there and to a temporary exhibition, which screamed on Monet and Renoir. There was another Italian who didn’t get my English. I asked him on working hours and he began to explain but I already understood that a ticket office works until that time while visitors can stay on a territory after that period. I made him to know about comprehension but this man didn’t get it and looked on me wild after I said again.

I went to citadel first. A structure of a building and it’s dark sand color carried to associate as an affiliation of Maltese Order what had reasons due to an island country isn’t far away. But this is no of this relation. That construction always was had story with Sicilians. I entered in a hall in which I saw a specific design of ceiling in it’s angles. I had an excitement from this creativity. I stepped in the next areas where the incredible corner-shaped windows (which not all were opened but I raised desk before detecting disclosed ones) have beautiful looks and bring a tender smell of a sea. I couldn’t but climb on a couple of them for see behind of prolong space more pretty views. An employee of a castle didn’t detect me but I see that these humans don’t like it and do meddling in not own business. However, I was caught when I was on a next floor where I climbed up on same long ledge for see surrounding because that was more comfortable to have than try to fit your feet in the little spaces in stones. I heard a whistle. That woman which committed this sound wanted that I move down. She did it through showing her hands. I kept a safe distance and that isn’t their business if a man took a responsibility to make this (I would wish Italians worked in such way in everything I slammed them). There were no handrails and metal barriers in time when Castello Maniace functioned as a fortress and a prison. People walked in these places. I imagine in Medieval that a head guard gathers all personnel and informs a safety instruction. Or for climbing is separate payment? Anyway, I disliked it in one with closure of access on the very top. I watched on sputnik images and thought how they dare to deprive to get the most wonderful views. That woman has gone soon and I could raise myself there again but I hadn’t this desire to that time.

I was amazed by construction’s design. It would be wrong if I ignored this wonderful place, which passion I share with the Godfather locations. However, I was thinking a day before that I didn’t get awe from those visited ancient locations but I was happy that I saw them.

A temporary exhibition did using of loud names revealed a good old known art gallery trick that their paintings are limited. However, I more beware on realization of a hoax of non-permanent display of showpieces which in a shortage of items but that thing wasn’t there. Of course, I didn’t expect to see much of lovable Claude Monet and it was so. Anyway, I had a rapture from observing landscapes of not famous but grandiose artists. I rarely had a not successful picture. There were works of famous impressionist men to which almost all of them I didn’t change my mind while Gustav Coubert and Eduard Manet were brilliant in presented.

I didn’t recognized Claude Monet’s style in his only hanging drawing. Everything informing was written in Italian. I saw word “attr.” in brackets. I asked about it an employee and she tried to explain but went to a woman who was responded for this exhibition (and personally she sold me a ticket to there) and had a tour on that current moment. Before the employee moved, I didn’t hear a piece of her telling due to noise when we talked. I asked her to say again. This moment disclosed a language chauvinist. A woman went to slow pronouncing by saying word “more” with extreme wild Italian accent, which, maybe, I wouldn’t hear if she didn’t say on that speed. It reminds me on America. About how many my fellow people accept Asians for emigrants though they aren’t even a first generation. Anyway, we know how English of these non-native arrogant persons is not good. I was gleeful on having nothing else in visiting in Sicily. However, her speech returned to normal later. The employee went and returned soon. She told me that this word, which is “attribution” in full pronouncing, means that a painting didn’t get a certification yet. I also received a confirmation that painting is original because my thought was about possibility of replica.

One Italian from that group wanted to make a photo of two other citizens of his country at Monet’s painting (everybody came for flashing camera as always). Of course, I gave a space automatically but that Italian didn’t care that I stayed and watched (same I noticed in Italians in vice versa when somebody wants to make a click and a representative of this nationality doesn’t mind on moving himself or herself out of picture). He didn’t ask about that. It wasn’t in France where I always saw presence of such respect though it doesn’t guarantee this with everybody. I turned on one hundred eighty degrees to a parallel painting on which I made a look. That Italian touched me with his body twice but a strength of that man would work against him if he tried to push stronger. I stayed on place.

I hadn’t disturbance and was walking slow before but I had exhale when all rabble in that group and all others who can’t see art went outside. I could get a complete delight with studying and getting impression from paintings, which many of them made to believe I see that alive.

I decided to complete the second stage by having cannolo. I detected only Pasticceria Artare fitted for visit and pictures promised a genuine Sicilian dessert. A pretty fact was that a cafeteria located in Ortigia.

I entered but I watched on a same mutant-shaped crust as it was in Giardini Naxos. I left and started to do lottery by checking every place. But I was horrified by seeing accepted as common that ugly monstrous shape and sometimes it was with addition as a frightening look made a variation where a crust was decorated in chocolate and other one was in pistachio. I couldn’t look on that anymore. I wanted to leave Sicily.

Ortigia has elements of enchantment in it’s buildings but transformation location into a tourist zone through cafes, souvenir shops, riding services and anything else devastated this beauty.

I wanted to drive away from the city. I abandoned the half-island territory and ceased stepping at one café, which presented a natural looking cannolo. I walked inside but a pastry wasn’t as promised. That was similar to that became usual. Nevertheless, I saw a cassata or rightly to pronounce a cassatina, which is a little shape of a cake and that I had on taste days ago. But this seen was in a classic appearance included a candied peel in orange and cherry – the elements absented in a pastry I had. I thought in these days, maybe, I hadn’t a correctly-made sweet. I took it with a black tea. My sensing had a right direction. It was a tender dessert. A green sponge cake wasn’t slightly pleasing in places because had a taste of chewing gum, but that experience has gone later. Cassatina is acceptable pastry but it is not a thing to which I have a passion because a combination of ingredients isn’t of my likes.

I didn’t ask a personal recommendation of this woman in information center in Teatro Massimo but she guided me to a long working café where I had a magnificent cannolo. Maybe, I will marry on Italian eventually because after many grandiose jokes on I willn’t do that it will bring me to this (though I don’t see a commonsense in that funny pagan ritual). Anyway, I returned in my room in Giardini Naxos for turn on a TV set which was calibrated on a music channel, because it was only what I could have in English, for hope to see and listen again a song of heaven voices of Lisa Stansfield and Barry White which calls All Around the World. That channel plays same few dozen compositions and repeating of some of them can be in a very short period but I was pleased to hear the anticipated lyrics two times.