Homecoming: end of an adventure

We awoke at first light, I took photos of the run rising out of the sea from the terrace overlooking the Guardiola for a second morning running, only this time it wasn't raining. Breakfast, clean-up, packing, then returning the keys to the Sisters in time for the 8h45 bus to Catania. Suore Sylvana and Suore Tarcisia walked us to the bus station. It was very moving, there was still so much we wanted to share with them as well as our expressions of deep gratitude for their hospitality and friendship. As the bus pulled out, they stood waving us off from the school gate. I've been so blessed by the time spent with them, not just in the past few days but throughout the past month.

After a twenty minute wait in Catania we were on our way along the autostrada, first to the Airport stop and then West around the southern foothills of Mount Etna towards Palermo. The view was truly spectacular.not just because of the great snow capped peak presiding over the region, but because of the seemingly endless vista of citrous groves, neatly arranged, laden with ripe fruit, orange and yellow. Being winter, and a rainly season, the trees had a carpet of bright green grass laden with pale primrose yellow flowers stretching as far as the horizon, or so it seemed. I was conscious of the change from limestone to sandstone terrain as the road rose into the mountainous central region, with occaisional hill towns precariously perched on very steel escarpments. 

Sicily's mountain valleys being so far south were never excavated by glaciers, and retain their v-shape, so that few have much flat terrain at their bottom. For most of the journey in the uplands, the autostrada runs on stilts thirty metres above the valley floor. A long series of viaducts represents the lowest impact on the environment, as well as the least expensive with no lengthy cuttings, and only a few tunnelled sections. As we climbed, the orange groves gave way to pasture lands, with grazing sheep and cattle, although the further from the coast we went the fewer and further between were trees, settlements and individual farms. This land has lost a great deal of its agrarian population by migration, not only to the cities but to other parts of the world. Here, with such extremes of weather, rural poverty is harsh. Yet, it is hauntingly beautiful as barren looking places go. I'd love to spend more time exploring the Sicilian interior.

We get to Palermo at lunch-time and changed on to our third bus of the day for the three quarter of an hour traipse through quieter suburbs to the airport, named in honour of two murdered anti-mafia judges: Falcone and Borsellino, where we had an hour and a half to wait before checkout opened. There were no problems attached to Clare's temporary travel document, so we were able to deposit our bags at the EasJet desk and relax with our second picnic meal of the day before going through to the departure lounge, just as the sun was setting on a day of travel just half way through.

There were no problems arriving at London Gatwick either. The Borders Agency official was sympathetic when Clare told him how she came to lose her passport. We had time for a drink before boarding out coach at ten past ten, and slept most of the way back to Cardiff, via Heathrow and Bristol. We got a taxi home from the bus station, arriving on the doorstep at twenty past three with do much to unpack, so many different experiences to digest. And a Sicilian recipe book to experiment with in months to come.

We'd both love to explore Sicily properly, but will there ever be another opportunity to return to St George's Taormina? We were asked this. It's so very popular with clergy it may not happen again. But if we do return we'll be sure to stop off and visit the Sisters whose kindness and hospitality confirmed all we've ever known about the Franciscan spirit in the life and mission of God's church throughout the world.

New Year's Eve with a difference

We learned this morning that the Consular office in Rome had processed Clare's documents, but that they cannot be couriered to Sicily for use before Thursday morning, because of the capod'anno holiday. That meant changing our flight home. The first sensible possibility is EasyJet from Palermo on Saturday afternoon. This will allow a couple of days slack just in case the courier doesn't deliver on schedule. Changing both our flights cost about £240. Getting to Palermo airport from Taormina will cost us another £45, and take four hours travel time before the two and three quarter hour flight. The bus to get us home will land us in Cardiff at 3.15am on Sunday. Changing the bus ticket cost a fiver. Not much change out of three hundred quid to get us home.

Clare phoned AGEUK with whom she took out a travel insurance policy to notify them of a situation in which she needs to claim for re-patriation because of the theft. She was informed that the policy sold to her did not cover a missed flight despite the circumstances. She had no idea of this when she bought the policy and was not warned of this. As ever we were told, it's all in the small print - that which older people with weakening eyesight and diminishing patience with lengthy convoluted documents are often less reluctant to read, relying rather on what the salesperson tells them. 

The older we get the more we need to feel sure that the risks entailed in travel are acceptable and tolerable.  AGEUK will be hearing from us very publicy when we return. They are supposed to be in the business of helping older people live their lives in as satisfactory a manner as possible. Not having the risk pointed out before purchase is tantamount to mis-selling insurance. Now what was the name of the insurance industry watchdog? .... No, I'll have to look it up when I have a proper internet connexion again.

Being so late home means I won't be able to fulfil my Sunday Mass duty in Abercanaid, so I emailed my friend Robert the area Dean and had an auto reply to say he won't be checking emails until next Monday, so I had to email the Archdeacon a warning instead. By evening I had a nice reply from both of them. Robert's been hiding away, but not off-line, so the problem will be sorted.

Making arrangements to get home also meant making arrangements to stay on. My locum successor arrives on Wednesday on the flight we were due to take back to Gatwick so we have to make way for him. We went to the Convent to ask Suore Sylvana the community's Guardiana if we could take up her gracious offer of accommodation for the three nights we have to wait before taking our flight. What an offer! One corner of the Convent grounds overlooks the Guardiola and the Gulf of Naxos. There's a house on the edge of an orchard garden and it has eight rooms equipped with beds for guests. One of the community's remarkable quiet ministries is providing hospitality for people supporting and caring for people hospitalised in this area. Some families may come from too far away to commute and are unable to afford hotels. This week there's nobody staying there, so we have an amazing choice of rooms with views!

Shopping for supper took up the end of the afternoon, and as the sun set two bagpipers magnificent in Sicilian costume patrolled the Corso playing out the old year. Tonight I let the others cook and went to Vespers. It was longer than usual with prayer for peace and readings taken from Pope Benedict's letter for the day of prayer for world peace, which is New Year's Day. 

We whiled away New Year's Eve banqueting on fresh tuna and roasted vegetables washed down with Sicilian red wine and pastries from one of the local pasticceria. At eleven thirty, we strolled up a very crowded Corso Umberto to join the countdown street party in piazza Sant' Agostino, hosted by a local deejay. There was lots of exuberance, no violence and no drunken excess. It was mild for a winter's night and no rain to dampen the fireworks. No Auld Lang Syne. Such a refreshing and welcome change from a British Hogmanay.

Welcome gift

Clare's EasyJet flight set off half an hour late and arrived only ten minutes late, although it took half an hour to get from plane to the arrival hall. It was an hours and a half until the next and last bus to Taormina, so we had a drink and a bite to eat in the arrival hall, next to the bus departure area just outside, while we waited.

We arrived at St George's at twenty past nine, had supper and then took an introductory passegaiatina the length of the Corso, almost deserted, before bed. We repeated the walk after breakfast to introduce Clare to the shops and show her Mount Etna from piazza St Agostino on one of the best days so far.

After lunch, we walked down the steps to the beach which contains Isola Bella. We walked as far as we could along the pebbles, and then went up and along the SS114 main road to check out the Hotel Isola Bella where Kath Anto and Rhiannon will stay when they arrive on Boxing Day. We noted a couple of bus stops outside, and it may be possible for them to catch the free shuttle bus up the hill from there, once they tire of the half hour walk up to St George's. At the moment they plan to make this part of their substitute for an hour at the gym. It's a challenging climb. This time my kneecaps weren't nearly as painfully distressed by the exercise as they were when I climbed a couple of weeks ago.

While we were out one of the sisters from the Convent called with a basket of the finest oranges and lemons from their wonderful garden as a welcome gift. There was also a Christmas present, a litrgical desk diary with comments on the daily Mass readings, prayer and inspirational quotes for each page per day. What alovely thought! I can work on improving my Italian all year round! We went to Vespers and adoration together at the Convent, so that I could introduce Clare and say thank you for their kindness.

Such lovely and inspiring friends and companions in prayer to have made!