I am full of food and wine with another dinner coming in only two hours, listening to Oasis in the internet bar by our apartment. It smells like incense in here. Wonder what they are smoking in the back. Two more days of this, then I retreat to calm and peaceful Venice.

Yesterday we went to the “must-see” city of Mdina. It is an old Norman walled town. It took us a gazillion years to get there. They have these crazy yellow buses all over Malta, and they go everywhere but you always have to change in Valletta. Like, every single bus goes to or leaves from Valletta. So it totally sucks unless you are staying in Valletta or you really like buses, which I do not. My philosophy is, life is too short to take a bus, unless it is faster than the train, or you have no other choice. In Malta you have no other choice. Unless you drive, but that is opening a whole ‘nother can of worms.

The buses are old here and have no spring in the seats any more. Was it worth two hours of butt-bruise to go to Mdina? Not really. I’ve been to a lot of walled towns. I’ve already seen a few Maltese churches. So I already did Mdina even before I’d done it. I was really happy to get back to the grime and neon of St. Julian’s – way more my scene.

We did have a really nice lunch in a restaurant called Bacchus, in a wine cellar. In fact, if you were to ask us our favorite things of the day:

Lisa: the architecture in Mdina
Colleen: the view from the back wall of Mdina
Shannon: Lunch in Mdina, except for that corn nut in my salad. That was weird.

After Mdina we walked over to Rabat. Rabat used to be where they buried the dead people from Mdina. Now Rabat is the working town, and Mdina is the tourist attraction. In Rabat we went to the Grotto where Saint Paul lived for a while after he got shipwrecked here and went all Jesus. Then we went to the catacombs, one of the burial places dug down into stone, little beds and big beds for dead people. Then back on the bus for another two-hour, butt-injuring bus ride home.

We were so exhausted last night (we could barely speak until the first glass of wine went down) that we stayed home and ate. Colleen and I had found some homemade frozen meat pies in the supermarket and bought them in case of emergency. They were awesome! Colleen had a salmon pie (mmm… salmony) and Lisa and I had beef pies. Then we watched part of a movie, dubbed in Italian, where Linda Fiorentino was ankle cuffed to a hot dog stand while Wesley Snipes talked to her in a microphone and shot a bunch of people. We had no idea what was really going on, but we were too full of pie to change the channel.

Yesterday I also ate some lamb and mint flavored potato chips from the U.K. The chips make up for the Oasis song that is playing right now.

Today Colleen and Lisa went off on their own (I am totally anti-bus, you won’t get me on another fucking bus for a while) and I went to the home of Angella and John for lunch. They are from San Francisco and moved here last August. I hooked up with Angella via the Chowhound message board. They are really cool and made me a fabulous lunch served up with some great Sicilian wines. We hung out and talked, ate and drank for almost three hours – that is why I am so full – and they are coming around to pick us up at 8:00 to take us to eat fish in the fishing village of Marsaxlokk. Damn! I am such a piggy.

Seriously though they are hella cool and I think they are going to take us around the island tomorrow, making it totally unnecessary to ever board a bus again, at least for a while.

Only two more days! Everything is going by so fast.

XOXOXOXOXOXO
XXannon

You can use the internet in many places in Malta, for only One Maltese Lira for seventy-five minutes!

Plus right now I am doing this in a bar where “Purple Rain” is playing. Sweet.

Before I got here someone said to me, “a whole week in Malta, isn’t that too much?” I basically answered that no, that is just the way I do things. Now, after only two days I know that a month may not be enough. And this is an island only seventeen by nine miles around. I’d figure the math out on that one if I could, but you probably get the idea.

The island of Malta is beige and smoke and hazy light. Pea green on the inside of the pastry shell, turquoise where the ocean meets the beige city wall. Pink where the sun sets. Malta is third-world, Arabic, from another planet. Malta is bombed out and filled with life. I am totally enraptured with it, and can’t figure it out.

We have a really nice three-bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building with only one apartment per floor. But when you walk around to the bay, and look up at our building from the back side, the two floors below are shells. There is no back wall, just empty space. And alot of Malta is like this – buildings with varying degrees of misuse, inhabitance, and repair. Laundry racks on balconies with unbelievable views.

The housing prices are high here though – I have already checked it out.

Today we went to Valletta. Went to the pub where Oliver Reed died after drinking eight beers, 12 shots of Rum, and half a bottle of Whiskey. Valletta is full of skeletons, not ghosts. Skeletons on the church floors. There were crazy wars fought here with heads chopped off and shot out of cannonballs. I’ve never been anyplace like this before, never.

I never want to stop traveling. I want to keep going, forever. There is so much to see!

We’ve got quite a few more days here, and internet just steps away from the apartment, so I’ll be posting often.

Ciao,
XXannon

Here we are in Malta. It is pretty fabulous, let me tell you.

Before I get into the fabulousness of Malta, let me tell a little about the journey here. Yesterday the Signora practically kicked us out of the villa right at 10:00 A.M. and so we had many, many hours to kill before our 7:00 P.M. flight to Malta. With a car full of luggage, we couldn’t leave the car alone, so we decided to drive the road that goes around Etna.

This was like several hours of playing chicken with various BMWs, Audis, and even Fiat Pandas. It was totally pazzo. The road is not wide and you’ll be going up a hill and around the corner will fly someone who is PASSING someone. Lisa, now known as “Balls of Steel” Wisniewski, drove. I was very impressed. Thankfully I was sitting in the back seat so when things got too hairy, I could stare at the back of the front seat instead of the road.

At one point, in a small town called Adrano, there was a Mercedes illegally parked on one side of the tiny street, and another, smaller car illegally parked on the other, and cars going each way just centimeters from getting extremely personal with one another. Then down the street comes a fucking semi-truck. Just as we are about to meet with the illegally parked car on our side. We had to get through the space between the truck and the car, and about halfway through all of us simutaneously let out this loud “AAAIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHH.”

But we made it. At one point Lisa yelled, “that guy was passing a COP! I just don’t get it.” There is nothing like getting out of a car after driving the small towns of Sicily for a while.

Eventually we went to a gas station and pounded some savory pastries Colleen had picked up, and thankfully I had a bottle of Etna Blanc and my Riedel O glasses in the back seat, with which to calm my frazzled nerves. I can’t believe I actually drove in Sicily alone once.

So, then to the airport way early where I bought us all some really bad white wines and some cheese puffs to make the wine taste better. They loaded our Air Malta flight really early. Lisa asked if it was indeed, our flight, and the guy said it was. So Lisa asked why they were boarding ahead. “When all the passengers are on, we will leave.” OK then! Make sure not to lag, next time you fly to Malta.

Then, off the flight, we had another hairy ride to the apartment. They drive on the left here, and it’s a “with your front bumper” philosophy in Malta just like it is in Italy. But for some reason we were extra sensitive last night. We were in a van, and after the fourth near-miss with a car or a bus, Lisa said “I am NOT driving here.” No problemo, homegirl.

Finally we made it to our apartment which is totally awesome. It is in an area called St. Julian’s, where there are all kinds of restaurants and bars and a lovely, working port. From our apartment we look out onto the bay and the port and there are two balconies and a nice living room from which to do so. Once again, my apartment rental radar worked out well. I was hoping for Maltese MTV, but I guess there is no such thing, but we do have Italian MTV and already Lisa and Colleen seem to be sort of hooked. Also late last night, I watched that skateboarding show “Extreme.” In of all places, Malta? Hmmm….

Today we walked along the promenade that goes along the sea until you get to a place where, across a bay, you can see the fortified city of Valletta. Along the ocean there is almost uninterrupted crappy architecture. It is so bad, it is kind of riveting. The sea is beautiful and there are many outdoor cafes along the promenade (I am typing this in one, now). All the shops are closed and the bars and restaurants open and busy. I’ve already tried one of the Malta specialties, a little pastry with smashed peas in it. I also ate a Steak and Onion Pie. The Maltese wine… so far, it really needs to have food as an accompanying feature. But it is not too bad. I forced Lisa and Colleen both to haul two bottles of wine over from Sicily. They are going to thank me for this, in the future.

We had some great Greek food last night. In our neighborhood (THE gastronomic center of Malta – who knew?) there is Chinese, Malaysian, Italian, French… even an Indian takeout place. Plus a million pubs. One little problem is the Maltese Lire. One Maltese Lire equals about three dollars. So everything looks really good, like 5 Lire for a bottle of wine. Till you triple it! So I have decided to forget about the dollar and pretend it is all the same. It worked for me with the Euro last week. Sometimes it is good to be a fantasist.

In the Maltese language two Xs makes the sh sound. So, for this week my name XXannon. In fact I may just keep it that way forever.

Love,
XXannon

Yesterday, Colleen fell and broke her finger in Siracusa! She had to go to the emergency room.

She is OK but she has a big white thing on her hand.

I was sitting and reading on the terrace at the villa when Cheryl called, she was like, “so, how are you, are you having a nice day?”

Then: “I’ve got a little news update for you…”

By the time they got home several hours later I had prepared a bunch of food and got out the wine. Colleen was a little shaken up but by the end of the night, she was giggling just like she always does.

We went through quite a bit of wine last night. At the hospital, the doctor almost put the splint on the wrong finger. “Was the doctor Swarthy?” I asked. (Swarthy is one of my words-of-the-week.) I guess he wasn’t, but he was nice and there was no bill.

Everything is cool now. Lisa, Colleen and I went up to Castelmola, a tiny town on the top of this rock looking way down on Taormina, which is already pretty high up. In Castelmola they have this bar where there are all these sort of phallic decorative touches. They also have a cute balcony looking over a pretty square. For the phallic touches, you pay an extra price for the prosecci, but I think the tile-work in the bathroom is worth it.

From Castelmola we walked all the way down, zigzagging for three miles, to Taormina. I won’t even go into the views up there because it is impossible to describe. Maybe Lisa will email me some of her digital pictures later and I can post them. The volcano, Taormina, the sea… wow.

I’ve decided dinner tomorrow will be at a place called Al Duomo, and they know we are coming and why. There are two guys riding bikes all around here today and everytime they see me they say “Ciao, Capelli Rossi…” but I think I am going to go purple tomorrow because, yesterday after the hospital, the girls were driving around in Siracusa and there were all these hookers on the road, and they all HAD PINK HAIR. And that guy thought I was an Albanian, way back in Palermo!

Tomorrow we are going to chill at the villa, and head out in the afternoon for wine at both the Wunderbar AND the Grand Hotel Timeo, then dinner.

Tonight we are having a farewell pizza… Sicily is almost done. I would be sad except I still have three weeks to go, Malta and then home to Venezia, then on to Rome.

Giant kisses to my Mom. Mom if it was not for you I wouldn’t be in the place I am, physically or in my head. I love you.

Next time I write I will be in MALTA.

OK, I am officially in love with Taormina (again.)

It is so unbelievably beautiful here! Today it is very clear and you can see Mt. Etna perfectly, covered with snow and smoking. And it is warm, a perfect day to sit and stare at a volcano with your face in the sun.

I am on my own today. The ladies all went to Siracusa. I did not go because a) I have been there and b) there was no room in the car for me. Also c) I am cooking for them tonight, so came into town to forage for provisions. Plus d) I want to play my music really super loud and run around the villa screaming for a while.

That villa is AWESOME. I think what is making me allergic is in my room. There are some ugly Picasso drawings in my room and that may be what is killing me in there. But in the morning everyone goes right outside my window to have coffee on the terrace, and I throw open my window and say Buon Giorno, looking all glamorous (not.)

I think those Picassos may be originals because they are way too ugly to be prints. Also in my room there is a framed thing that says “Love with Sex” and some other weird stuff. I think it was decorated circa 1967. Some kind of bizarre love nest. I am having crazy dreams.

Yesterday, we walked around Taormina and then ate a huge lunch (at Rosta-whatever, Tom) and then went to the ancient Greco-Roman theater. It was so hot. Between the pasta and the sun, I could have laid right down on that ancient rock and slept. But then we went next door to the Grand Hotel Timeo, all faded elegance, and had a bottle of white wine on the outdoor patio there. The view was killer and the wine good and not too outrageous.

There are ghosts everywhere. Ghosts in the crazy fish market in Catania, ghosts in the Greek Ampitheater. There are ghosts in the Grand Hotel Timeo. I am high up on a mountain surrounded by ghosts, in search of the perfect Salsiccia. God, I love it here.

We are cruising around Catania today, a big, crazy city, waiting for Lisa’s plane to get in. We’ve stumbled into the student area where there is cheap internet. I could spend two hours here trying to catch up but can’t keep the ladies waiting. So I’ve got half an hour – I will do my best.

Our villa in Taormina is fantastic. It is huge! There is a big terrace and yesterday it was so nice out there we did not even make it into the town until almost 2 P.M. We look out onto the Isola Bella and the sea. All of us have our own bathroom. My room is eclectically decorated with some fairly bizarre stuff.

The only bad thing is I seem to be sneezing alot and Cheryl says it is because I have been eating so much sugar and white flour, that my spleen is out of whack, so I am having allergies. And this could be true because basically I am living on fried pastries filled with ricotta, crumbly dark chocolate spiked with hot pepper, pizza Diavola, fried seafood, and, of course, a LOT of wine.

It could also be the mold and the old books in the villa.

Tom – we will definitely try Piero’s place in Taormina… Kelly I think you recommended La Botte and we ate lunch there yesterday… it was awesome. Last night we hung out at the villa and ate cheese, proscuitto and cannolis for dinner.

So what is all this Harsh Little Baby all about? You might ask. In Cefalu, I had some grappa, and I was trying to tell the owner that it was smooth (morbido) not harsh. But we could not figure the way to say harsh. The owner spoke pretty good English and I said the word harsh, and she said oh yeah, like harsh little baby.

So know I keep thinking those words, along with Bitte this and Bitte that. Also, yessssss…. like Napolean Dynamite says it has been in our vocabulary alot, and I have taught this to all the ladies.

Between the food, the wine, and the guys here, one could seriously think about moving to Sicily. It is pretty awesome so far.

Everyone at the Vine – I miss you guys too.

It is a clear day and we can see Etna smoking. I am getting very thirsty for my first Vino Bianco of the day. My Italian is coming back a little – I talked to three guys from Ragusa yesterday for a while. Man. It’s a good incentive, to be sure.

Shannon called to tell me that she has been “swallowed by Sicily” and will post again when she can.

Meanwhile, I have made some changes to her blog colors. Either a pleasant surprise when she next logs in, or a green shock.

Here we are in Cefalu, and this is the big Norman church, that sits right up against the rock that overlooks the town and the sea. This place is fantastic. Beautiful, warm, sunny and hardly any tourists. Though I have been taking up the phrase “shut up, bitte.” Just kidding. Maybe.

In Cefalu I am trying to sort out my feelings about Palermo. I feel that I only scratched the surface of something the size of the Great Wall of China with my pinky nail. And yesterday, after being stuck in traffic on a bus for an hour, I was really ready to get out. But fast travel is not my gig, slow travel is (just not the kind of slow travel that involves a bus going one mile an hour.) I was really intrigued by all the bombed out buildings with graffiti all over them. And the outdoor market that goes on forever. And the food didn’t suck, either.

We are very happy here in Cefalu. We climbed halfway up La Rocca and now, I am going to try to get Colleen to go to a wine shop that has a little tiny balcony on the sea, where we will drink a bottle of Duca Enrico. This is a good place to walk slowly and breathe. I was walking too fast in Palermo.

Tomorrow, we head to Taormina and the villa. Tomorrow we will eat dinner with Cheryl and Nancy!

I love Sicily. It is so beautiful here, my heart hurts.

I have to be really, really fast here so no editing just writing and I will take care of the rest later.

I was a little worried yesterday about that guy thinking I was Albanian the other day, like maybe I look like a maid, or a hooker. Is it the purple hair? Cannot figure it out.

Because of our lost afternoon Tuesday, we got out early yesterday and ran around Palermo like crazy women. Went to the opera house in the morning – would not have done that, if not for Colleen – but it was awesome, the opera was rehearsing and we got to see for a minute and it was fantastic. Then onto the archeaological museum where I saw something truly weird, a small bronze of an erect penis, that HAD a penis, also a tail and legs. We walked around the port a little, also almost got bit by a rabid dog, then went to get a pizza.

This was the best part of the day. We went to a famous place called Antica Foccaciaria di San Francesco, which also happens to be where we breakfast every morning. We sat next to this big table of seven guys and two girls. After some eyeing of each others food and smiles and stuff, the one girl who spoke some English spoke to us (all the guys were speaking too, and we did the best we could.) So Colleen tells this girl we are here for my birthday, and she tells the group, and they bust out singing Happy Birthday to me. Then all the guys got up and kissed me! (Cheek kisses, not Albanian hooker kisses.) I turned all red and my heart was beating so fast. It was pretty awesome, let me tell you.

So after that Colleen had it in her mind to go to the Crypt of the Cappucine where there are all these dead bodies decaying on the walls. Like 8000 of them. So I decided we would walk, but instead of on the main street, on the back streets. CRAZY. PAZZO. More on this later… then we got there and Colleen was totally grossed out but I made her look at all the dead bodies for a really long time, like 10 minutes.

I am really running out of time now, we are off to Monreale and later, Cefalu… more when we stop running. Fantastic dinner last night, at a place recommended by a friend in Rome… called Sant Andrea. I told Colleen she should start telling everyone it is my birthday and we are going to start counting the cheek kisses. Eight, so far.

I am having a bit of a writers block situation and I think it is because this place is so insane that I cannot even begin to write about it. So this will be really boring but here goes.

Got here OK, even with four flights it seemed to go by pretty fast. But my luggage did not make it. Colleen came in several hours after me so I walked around looking for something to buy to sleep in. There are tons of clothing stores and everything is on sale. Our room is really a suite with two rooms and a little kitchen, and the owners have been so awesome… if it was not for them I am not sure I would have my luggage back…

I feel at home here so far, walking around I seem to know my way, and I am even crossing the street like the locals do, which can be a little terrifying at first. Because seriously, red lights mean nothing.

Right when they opened, I went to this cool wine bar right on our street called Mi Manda something or other and had a glass of wine in there… so far this place is the coolest place I have found, bar wise, but it is possible that I am just from another planet. I may as well be. Then I went home to wait for Colleen.

Colleen finally came in (she missed her connection and arrived at 9:30) and we immediately went back to the wine bar to eat dinner.

OH MY GOD. OK, I was starving but starving or no that was one of the best dinners I have ever eaten. Or maybe I just have not been to Sicily in a really long time. We had a salad with radicchio and pomegranate seeds and pancetta, ravioli stuffed with eggplant and with an eggplant tomato sauce, and I had this pork braised in Chianti. It was huge, like a whole leg or something. It was so good that I ate almost all of it. Plus they had these little rolls stuffed with olives. All that with a bottle of Montefalco Rosso was only 47 Euro.

After that we went back and totally crashed until mid morning. Outside there was thunder, and really heavy rain. But that stopped right when we went out.

After coffee and cornetti, we headed out to the big Cathedral here (awesome on the outside, but the inside did not do much for me) and then walked up to this park where there were some kids playing soccer. We sat on a bench and this old guy comes up and starts talking to us. I tell him my Italian sucks. “Albanese?” he says… (do I look Albanian?) I tell him no and then he asks if I am Italian! Dude, if I was wouldn’t I be speaking it a little better?

We left there and went to where the President of Sicily has his quarters and there was some kind of demonstration with lots of cops. I kind of like Italian cops, so we hung out there and thought maybe we would see the President. The old guy comes back, tells us it is some sort of demonstration for the workers. Then he asks if we like Bush and we say no, and he says Bush is always making war. (Colleen got that one – don’t give me the credit.)

Sadly after this we had to rush back to the apartment because the guy who had my luggage didn’t understand me and I didn’t understand him, and he thought MY name should be on the door instead of the B & B’s. So, after many calls by the B & B people and many hours of waiting (plus I was starting to get really nervous, also stinky) the luggage arrived.

More walking around and now we are headed to eat at a place called Vino Rosso.

Sorry this is so boring but I will try to do better. I think my body is all the way here but my brain has to catch up.