Civitavecchia, Palermo and Cefalu

We got up so early, the ship didn't have coffee available, but we wanted to be among the first ashore. My cousin Giovanni seems to be well connected (a director of engineering for the Italian RR) - he was actually able to drive directly to the pier and pick us up directly outside the Customs building. It was the first time we've met and very exciting.

We had a 2 hour drive to the airport, so we had some time to get to know each other. I struggled a bit with my Italian and Geri struggled to understand what we were talking about. I know she felt left out at times and I love her for being so patient - wait til tomorrow when they'll be 3-4 of us babbling along in Italian!

Our flight was short and on-time to Palermo (atypical for an Italian carrier), but the car rental counter was a nightmare (typical) - some had been waiting an hour for their car. I stepped over to "Sicily Rent Car" (whose motto was apparently "We leave out the grammar and pass the savings on to you!"). 15 euros more than our original booking, but we were in our Fiat Punto in 20 minutes.

I had brought my Garmin and bought the Europe maps, but they were USELESS. NO street detail and they didn't show the autostrada! We got hopelessly lost in Palermo. Garmin DID show the direction the car was headed in and a large body of water, so we headed towards it, turned right and headed east along the Sicilian coastline. Fortunately, Geri's sister Cheryl had given us a Michelin map of Sicily. It was the size of a bedsheet, so using it the Fiat did obscure my vision, but apparently that's not a problem when driving in Italy. We were passed on the left, the right, from above, in turns, through parking spaces - you name it. Those of you that know MY driving style will understand how that bruised my ego. Whatever you've heard about Italian drivers - it's worse than you imagine.

Once we got onto the autostrada, things got easier ... until we reached San Ambrogio. What we call an alley, they call a 2-lane street and blind corners are everywhere. It's a tiny town where, apparently, everyone knows youy name because as we drove into a small piazza, someone CALLED OUT MY NAME. Robert led us to our place on his moped and we settled in.

We decided to drive down to Cefalu, a well-known seaside resort town, for dinner. That's where we got our first experience with SS-113, the coastal road. Think Pacific Coast Highway, but much narrower, no sholders, a blind turn every 50 yards, parked cars and pedestrians. We turned off of 113 into the VERY crowded Cefalu, a seaside resort - on a Saturday. Narrow streets with cars and people everywhere. What good is a map when there are no street signs - ah, these Italians. You know, when they issue you an international drivers license, they really should provide a handout of signage. We turned down a street before deciphering the sign that apparently meant "Even for Italians, this street is not recommended for cars." Not prohibited, mind you, just not recommended. It started out tiny, got narrower and ended in a 90 degree right that took me 3 tries to negotiate - I could drive around inside my house more easily.

That said, the town was charming. We walked along the boardwalk, up and down the streets lined with shops and came across a piazza in front of the duomo (the main church in all Italian towns/cities) where a wedding was just wrapping up. We had a fabulous dinner, under a cloudless sky on the piazza and lingered to watch the sunset over the Mediterarrean.

(BTW, this post is one of our longest because Geri's doing her hair ...)