Caccamo

On our way east to Cefalu we stopped at a small town called Caccamo because Kathy recommended seeing the castle there. It’s a steep, winding drive up from the coast to the top of one of Sicily’s many small mountains, the view looking down on Termini Imerese, a port town that was welcoming a freighter as we ascended.

The castle at Caccamo is charming, surrounded by turrets in the distinctive style shown here:


As we approached the main gate, we were welcomed by the first and only real jerk of the trip. He came down the wide stone ramp we were climbing and said jovially that he was a volunteer at the castle who would be happy to give us a free tour, and wanted to make sure we understood that there was no fee, only a tip if we desired to give him one. He immediately started off about the castle’s date of construction or something without waiting for our reply. We like to be free in places like this, because we usually want to move more quickly than tours, live or recorded, wish us to go. We like to follow what interests us rather than listen to a presentation. So we said thank you anyway and continued up the ramp. He clarified that there was no fee, and resumed his spiel. When we L said, more forcefully, thanks anyway, his manner changed as if a switch had been flipped. Gone was the sunny and welcoming visage. He scowled malevolently as he spied another pair of tourists coming around the corner below and left us with a colorful Sicilian expression surely familiar to fans of the Sopranos. We saw him later, having nabbed the other couple, giving his polite history but not acknowledging us as we passed.

When we returned to the car we found a wedding under way at the church, which was at the end of a very narrow street. If you’ve ever visited an old European town you probably know that just about any American car produced before 1980 simply would not fit down some of those old, skinny streets. As the wedding party prepared for the bride’s arrival and the guests made their way down the narrow street to the church, I couldn’t help wondering how that narrow access increased the general anxiety involved with any wedding. The area in front of the church was PACKED with the cars small enough to get there, and as we drove away we saw larger cars parked along the main street’s few parking spots, and some of the guests had to walk quite a distance because of owning larger cars.

We descended the mountain and continued east to Cefalu. More on that, tomorrow.