Sicilian Diary

You never know what the morning might bring. Which is why it is always good to go out for a coffee in Sicily. Yesterday I went to English Bar and the sweet elderly father was sitting in his usual seat with the newspaper, meeting and greeting 'Buongiorno Dottore! Arriverderci Avvocato!' (Italians make much of professional titles, so you are referred to as Doctor, or Lawyer directly). His daughter, who was on the till, was reading out a postcard from New York so I looked up and said something, being the only customer at that moment. It was cosy there, my cappuccino perfect and the apple pastry freshly baked. She asked me was I American, in English, and I replied that I was irish. She sighed that it was so important to travel, always travel, that their cousin had gone to NY for capodanno. She said she had lived in Canada, until she was 9, then came to live in Milazzo. Her husband had lived for several years in Manchester, hence calling it English bar. He was the smiley bushy grey ...