The charms of Castelmola

Summer has finally arrived in Central Finland, and I don't feel so bad anymore about leaving Sicily behind. I get a twinge of wanderlust when I look through my photos, but as I've spent the last two days in a car (most of the time getting nowhere), and I'm planning to celebrate May 1st in Helsinki, I'm quite content to sit still for a while (and pretend to get some work done).

The pictures above are of the village of Castelmola, which lies almost directly above Taormina. The place itself is worth seeing - it has a ruined castle, some picturesque little streets, and some picturesque ruined little houses.

However, the main attraction of the village is its famed almond wine, and we were told that this was the place to buy it from. Not knowing what to expect, we (I was travelling with my mother, remember) were rather taken aback by the unashamedly phallic decor of the place when we decided to stop there for lunch. Service was rather slow, but when our pizzas finally arrived, they were excellent - AND we got a complementary glass of almond wine at the end of the meal. Needless to say, we also bought two bottles of the stuff.

The route to Castelmola from Taormina is quite short, but demanding enough even for a seasoned walker like me. Needless to say, the views on the way are breathtaking, and thus well worth the exhausting climb. Thus, when at the end of the second week, mum and I found we had still one day of unscheduled time on our hands, we decided to make a second trip up the mountain. This was partly because during our first visit the weather was grey, and I couldn't get decent pictures of the place. Mainly, though, we went back for some more of that excellent wine.

Turns out the bartender at Turrisi remembered us, offered us another free helping of wine, and provided us with couple of more bottles. This time around the weather was glorious (making the uphill trek quite a sweaty one), and on top of it all, we got some extra entertainment watching people put up decorations for the forthcoming St. George's day (he being the patron saint of not only the English, but the people of Castelmola as well).

Prior to this trip, I was advised not to wear any jewellery while in Sicily. I mostly stuck to this principle but I can't say it made any difference; no one tried to steal anything, whether I was wearing a necklace or not - nor did my mother's purse get picked (she, after all, wore a ring and a gold bracelet all the time). So I won't pass on this piece of advice. One tip I'd like to give is this: when in Sicily, always carry change and small amounts of cash with you. Never rely on your credit card (as it might not work), or the fact that shopkeepers have enough change. I found that not even supermarkets have enough small change in their tills, and often I got either too few or too many coins.

Also: always, always take your suntan lotion with you, no matter how rainy the day looks.

Our duomo is bigger than your duomo

Since I finally got the Licentiate thesis off my hands, and the lecture almost planned, I might as well share some of my impressions of Sicily with you. As I said earlier, I enjoyed the island very much, and would like to go back some day to see more of it, as we only travelled up and down the east coast.

Taormina, the city where we stayed, is exquisite. It has a stunning location, numerous groovy little side streets, a lovely big park (originally owned by an Englishwoman called Lady Trevelyan), a bustling piazza, and lots and lots of shops (most of which were way beyond my budget). Because of this, it's been a popular tourist attraction for years and years (Goethe was also very impressed by Taormina, but I guess that he didn't go there for the shopping, either).

The weather was somewhat unpredictable, and perhaps because of that (or because of the economic situation) there weren't that many tourists around. We non-Sicilians did stand out very easily, though; while we sauntered along Corso Umberto in our t-shirts and linen trousers, the locals still sported their winter coats and black leather boots (women) or woollen slipovers (men). I wonder if we Scandinavians are the only people in Europe who dress according to the weather (and not according to the calendar, or some other arbitrary reason).

I was positively surprised by the public transport on the island. It was easy to get from Taormina to the nearby cities - by bus and by train - and as far as I could tell, both forms of transport operated more or less on time, and most delightfully of all, were very affordable. The train to Syracyse was crowded (it was Easter Sunday), and the bus from Catania to Taormina took two hours to traverse the 40-odd kilometre journey (but there were faster buses as well, and we did get to see many lovely seaside towns on the way).

Of those two larger cities we visited, Syracuse definitely won my approval. The weather was unfortunately foul (rain and a strong wind from the sea), but despite that, the place was one of the most impressive cities I've seen; the Piazza Duomo alone would have made the trip worthwhile. We also got a good (but rather unexpected) Easter lunch in one of the small restaurants near the Duomo; around noon we were getting rather peckish and started looking for a suitable place (not a very easy task since most restaurants open late in the afternoon). After a frustrating search, we happened upon an open door, out of which peered a small granny. I asked her whether the restaurant was open, but she couldn't understand English, and I couldn't understand her Italian. Fortunately the owner of the place spoke some English, and we established that lunch would be served at one o'clock. Coming back at the appointed hour, we were ushered to a small table, and soon food and wine began appearing in front of us - without either of us ordering anything or even consulting a menu.

Turns out Easter lunch was the only thing they were serving that day. Which was just as well: we sat there for about three hours, consumed five courses (counting the traditional Sicilian Easter cake), and got a hearty handshake (and an invitation to come back for Xmas lunch) from the owner as we finally staggered out of the door. All this for 35 euros each.

Catania, on the other hand was bit of a disappointment. First of all, the city is (quite inevitably) shabbier than Syracuse (Mt. Etna is after all in their backyard), and it has an overall feel of seediness not apparent in the more 'touristy' places. There are lots of shops there, but most of them were again too expensive for the student budget, and the open-air market on the other hand contained little more than trinkets and scary, shouty peddlers.

However, there were good bits, too. Piazza Duomo (again) was a spectacle in itself (so was the Duomo - the largest church I've ever seen, and I've seen a few). The public park (named after the city's famous son, Bellini), was partly under construction, but the parts we saw were very pleasant indeed (so was the pizza we ate there). For me, the best bit was the Civic Museum, a 13th century Norman castle that houses Greek and Roman art which you get to see for free.

There's so much to tell that I guess I'll have to write a separate post about the smaller villages we visited (especially Castelmola, which was so fascinating we trekked up there twice. More about its charms later).

Taormina dreaming...

The long-awaited trip to Sicily was a success; so much so that it's been really hard getting used to the routine of writing and planning lectures, and to the sunny but mercilessly chilly Finnish weather. I'll probably be posting more of my impressions on the island later on, so suffice it to say that during the last two weeks I enjoyed the Mediterranean spring, local cuisine, and general non-academic activities to the full, and also managed to get a decent suntan.

However, my supervisor finally mailed his comments on my Licenciate thesis, and today I did some last-minute readjustments before sending it to our professor. About time, too. Soon I'll have to start thinking about the structure and actual contents of my PhD thesis, but at the moment I'm more concerned about getting my act together before Friday, when I've got to teach the penultimate grammar lecture (adjectives and adverbials, yay). After that, I can start worrying about finding appropriate Renaissance dances, and the best way of teaching them to myself and the rest of the Stereotypical History Society over the 1st of May weekend.

Things fall apart...or, everything comes back to Jane Austen

Why is it that when electric appliances decide to expire, they have to do it all at once? This morning I found out my battery charger had stopped working. Then, on my way to S-Market, the headphones of my mp3-player started acting funny. These are minor things, and easily (and quite cheaply) repleacable, but I'm waiting for the inevitable third casualty - I'm guessing it'll be either my computer or my freezer (just my luck it'd stop working while I'm on holiday).

Nothing much has been happening here. I've spent most of today reading Sicily-related web pages and blogs, trying to find out what to see, eat and drink while I'm there. I've also been listening to some more of Dowland's lute songs - and to my surprise discovered that 'Weep You No More, Sad Fountains' was originally written by him. Although I knew it was an old song, I had always associated with the famous pianoforte scene (below) from Sense and Sensibility.

For me, this is the definitive version of the song (with the melody composed by Patrick Doyle). I play it on the piano quite often, and each time I perform it, I imagine Alan Rickman walking through the door and stopping to listen, mesmerised.

If only...

Castle 1 - Academia 0

I just got back from a conference trip to Turku - my first ’official’ performance outside my own alma mater. As I got up at 4.30 on Thursday morning, caught an early train to Turku and then had to find my way first to the B&B and then to the university - in a city relatively unknown to me - by the time I had presented my own paper I was completely knackered. Which was just as well, as there was very little in the symposium to get my academic teeth into.

What annoys me about these gatherings is the sheer amount of bullshit that goes on between (and sometimes during) the sessions. Maybe it’s just my Finnish nature that doesn’t agree with empty small-talk, but I feel extremely out of place when people start complementing each other on their ‘interesting’ work - while at the same time they probably don’t even remember (or care) what it is that these people do. Of course it’s always nice to meet colleagues etc., but otherwise there's very little substance to these conferences, at least when compared to the amount of money and time that goes into organising them.

During the weekend I also got a quick tour into the unbelievably narrow-minded world of some of these academics (some of them well-known in their respective fields). Musicologists for one seem to be terribly concerned about keeping their own field carefully fenced, so that those people who don’t do ‘real’ musicology (ethnomusicologists, for example) can’t get in to steal their precious resources. An interesting paradox in itself, as the purpose of the conference was to celebrate the multi-disciplinary nature of music studies. Ha.

On a brighter note, I skipped the last day of the symposium altogether in order to get a closer look at the Turku Castle (which I’d previously seen only from the outside). So while the others were busy patting each other academically on the back, I rambled the halls and corridors of the castle - and boy, did I get my money’s worth! Actually, there’s so much to see that three hours wasn’t nearly enough; I especially would've liked to ask more questions from the guides (who seemed to be very knowledgeable of the stories of their respective rooms - and also eager to share that knowledge).

Also the city itself had a surprisingly welcoming atmosphere; I say ‘surprisingly’, because I’ve always thought all people West of Jyväskylä tend to be glum and more reserved compared to us easygoing Easterners. However, all the people I met were friendly and talkative - but then again, we all tend to be like that in the first sunny days of spring.

Talking of that: this time next week I’ll be sitting in a piazza somewhere in Sicily, soaking up the Mediterranean sun. Should be good.

Looking forward to

Phrasal verbs are weird. They go against my Finno-Ugaric language sense as they make up new meanings in unexpected and totally illogical combinations. 'Taking someone in' sounds perfectly innocent, helpful even, which of course it isn't. Quite the contrary. Yet, some of these verbs are extremely descriptive, like the one above (although, as A Student's Grammar of the English Language reminds me, it's not strictly speaking a phrasal, but a phrasal-prepositional verb. Thank you, Messrs Greenbaum & Quirk.).

Above is also my beautiful new necklace (purchased here) - and my groovy new tablecloth, courtesy of M. They both remind me of the coming summer, as does the sun that is now flooding my kitchen with insanely brilliant light. There are lots of things I'm looking forward to: a trip to Taormina, the long-expected party, Juska's wedding...

The snow's melting already.

Mielenmaisema

There's something particularly Finnish about the scenery above, and something that well summarises my current mood. A narrow slice of dirt track bordered by tall trees, meandering deeper into the forest until it meets a lake or another road or a dead-end. Roads like this have always fascinated me; I love their randomness and their prosaic mystery - you never know where you’ll end up when you start following one of them.

That particular road is in Korpilahti; I spent the weekend there at M and J’s house, looking after their animals (two horses and a dog). Or, more precisely, the dog looked after me - she kept following me everywhere and watching my every move. I think she might report to M later.

I really should have got some work done as well, but lately I’ve been feeling acutely unmotivated. Partly this is because my supervisor has (apparently) been ignoring my Licentiate and therefore I don’t quite know how to proceed with my research. So instead I’ve spent the past month travelling around the country and thinking about Renaissance food and frocks.

Which reminds me - the necklaces Otter and I ordered finally arrived. And they are gorgeous. I also got myself a French hood; god knows if it’ll match the dress and the jewellery, but as I’ve set my mind on having one, I really can’t complain. And I suppose I can use it as a sun visor if nothing else goes.