The Price Is Still Right

This morning we left Il Gattopardo and took the bus to Enna in the middle of Sicily. Edward didn't overnight at Enna but he did visit and as it looked to be a more attractive proposition than the towns he did stay at, we headed there. We started with a brunch at the very nice bus driver's cafe adjacent to the bus terminal, that we visited a few days ago.

The bus trip along a major highway to Enna took 2 hours and cost 14euros apiece. Edward had contracted with his vetturino, or carriage driver, to pay a total of 20pounds which is the rough eqivalent of A$1333 in modern money. He was accompanied by a French gentleman he had met on the ferry from Malta and this price was to include the entire trip from Messina to Palermo. The driver also had to cover board and lodging for them all. We were paying around A$80 a night for accommodation, A$70 per day in food and the bus and train fares totalled about A$80 each for the trip from Catania to Palermo so in fact our basic costs were almost identical to Edward's to cover this distance. We traveled much faster than him but spent longer in each destination, taking 8 days to his 9.

Edward spent his first night out of Adrano in Leonforte. He stayed in a dirty, comfortless-looking inn where he was tormented with fleas, and besides suffered much from cold. Perhaps a disadvantage of putting his driver Francisco in charge of hotel selection was that he opted for the budget inns.

The next day they approached the remarkable city of Castrogiovanni, once famous, under its ancient name of Enna with a population of 12,000 souls. (Today it's just over twice that.) Edward sent the carriage onwards to their next destination while he and his French companion turned off upon an ancient paved mule track that led directly up the hillside. He claimed it only took half an hour to reach the city where they then visited the cathedral (which again was patronised by pretty girls) and the Norman Castle which is adjacent to the famed temple of Ceres. They then made their way back down another mule track and met up with Francisco for a late lunch. They must have been fit because while in Enna, which has reverted to it's old name, we walked down the hill on a good footpath and that took at least 40 minutes and it took us 2 whole days to explore the town.

The view from Enna showing the slope that Edward walked up. The town on the hill in the centre  background is Leonforte and behind that is Etna

Travelling out from Catania the country became more agricultural than horticultural. Orange groves gave way to what appeared to be pasture and crop country. We were met at the Enna bus terminal by Francesca, proprietor of Il Nottempo at Via Colajarni 26, who conveyed us to her neat little apartment with no fleas and modern heating.

Once settled we visited a tour office that Francesca suggested could help us book a bus on to Agrigento. Our first visit with an older gentleman who spoke little English, produced, with the aid of Google Translate, the information that there were no buses to Agrigento. However, another visit later in the afternoon, when the desk was now occupied by a young man who spoke excellent English, provided the welcome information that there would be a direct bus to Agrigento on Monday but we'd need to visit the bus terminal at the bottom of the hill to book tickets.

Crispy in Crispi Square, Enna. Temple of Ceres in the background. Kind of them to name their ornamental town lookout after me

Armed with that information we booked a third night with Francesca and took a short walk around town before dining at another little mom & pop trattoria where once again dinner ended with what seems to be the standard complimentary shot of limoncello. Mom and Pop spoke no English but photos on the wall indicated that Pop had recently been awarded a certificate for 50 years service to Enna as a chef. Again with the aid of Google Translate, Trish was able to convey the information that her son is a chef in Australia.

Nottetempo translates as "at night" and we discovered at night that the only downside to Il Nottetempo is that the strectch of Via Colajarni outside our door is where a significant proportion of Enna's tweenagers learn to smoke. They seemed a harmless bunch but they kept us awake till nearly midnight with their merriment and chatter, every night we were there. Edward had commented that Castrogiovanni is not, I fancy, very frequently visited by foreigners; at least the curiosity with which we were regarded would lead to that conclusion; boys followed us, gaping and gazing, wherever we went. While the first tour agent's lack of English might have suggested that is still the case, the boys in our lane seemed far more interested in their fags, than us.