In the shade, Stromboli

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Sicilian structures

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My son has just done his terza media (Junior Cert) exams and his theme was WATER. He spoke about Ungaretti’s I Fiumi, where rivers are a metaphor for human experience, and John Donne’s No Man is an Island on the interconnectivity of our lives as humans. His teachers gave him a theme so close to my heart: my songs and books often feature some form of water – rivers, seas and oceans appear as metaphor and meaning. Then, having done my work (apparently it is the mother's job to write the tesina for their child's presentation) I left for the islands to complete some fact-checking (days earned thanks to separation laws which accord parenting time to fathers). Gratitude. A woman travelling alone garners so much attention here. The lusty squat hydrofoil attendant breathing down my neck as I tried to sleep on the trip over, the Senegalese waiter in the port cafè asking too many questions, the Peruvian caretaker of the place I stayed curious about my age. The group of six lads on a part...
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Should I stay or should I go?

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Out and about on the daily adventures of my life, the two questions I get asked the most these days are: What brought you to Sicily? (Well, we all know the answer to that) followed swiftly by, So do you think you'll stay? Of course, the answer depends on whom I'm talking to, and always brings What's Best for My Kids into it. Sicilians unanimously agree that my kids would have better opportunities and a better future if we go back to Ireland. They think my family would rally round and be on hand at all times, unaware that in Ireland we are raised to be independent by 18 and get on with our lives elsewhere (unlike Sicily where it is common to live with parents well into your thirties). We have just come back from a month in Ireland and my children are missing their cousins, reliving the glorious summer memories, sunset by pierjump by Whipped 99 ice cream. They know school would be better and would even don a uniform if it meant jumping on the trampoline and playing hide and s...
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Black Madonna of Tindari

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My favourite Madonna of all the multitude of Virgin Marys venerated by the Sicilians, is the Black Madonna of Tindari.  Her feast day takes place on 8 September, but the festivities go on all weekend: these include the annual pilgrimage to her Basilica at the top of Mount Tindari, fireworks and local processions. Part of the draw is the place of her shrine: Tindari, off the beaten tourist track, sits high on a rocky promontory with spectacular views. Founded by the Greeks in 396BC (by Dionysius the Elder, a nasty despot from Syracuse), the ruins of the city include an amphitheatre, the gates to the city, stone arches and tombs.  You can enjoy a picnic there without a Japanese tourist snapping a photo of you while you munch your sandwich (likely to happen in nearby Taormina). But the interesting thing about the Madonna of Tindari are the stories surrounding her origins. Legend has it that the cedarwood statue was hidden on a cargo ship returning from the ...
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