SAMBUCA AGAIN
Happy July, and is it a hot one! It reminds me of why I dont like to go sight seeing in the summer. Phew! It has been over 30 degrees C all week and if you can catch a breeze at night, you are lucky. The news says it is even hotter up north. Our American friends in the apartment above are having a tough time sleeping, but we are managing to do some touring. We wanted someplace close so I thought of one of my favorite places which I know I have written about before here. But these are all new pictures.
We went to Sambuca di Sicilia because it is one of my favorite little mountain towns (outside of the big cities, it seems all of Sicily is made of such towns). The people there have an incredible pride in their many tourist resources. We drove a short way on the big road then through the land of grape vines, past Feudo Arancia, the new big wine conglomerate from the north, past rain swollen Lago Arancia and on to the little town itself.
There is a small museum on the top floor of the municipal building. But even though an elevator is there it is never available. So when you must climb several flights of stairs you see the damn elevator door at every landing. Typical Sicilian passive aggression-someone probably has lost the key to the thing, which was put in only for compliance to handicapped rules anyway (so they could get federal funds). A more likely explanation is they are just too lazy and cost conscious to run it. Same old, same old, incompetence as you would meet in the states, only there are few advocates for consumers here, none that I have found actually.
Anyway, the museum is a treasure trove, showing objects from the thriving Greek settlement on Mount Adranone (only uncovered in the 60s) that overlooks Sambuca, and the later Punic settlement. There are no pictures allowed, but we saw objects that were beautiful and fascinating, and I remembered enough from other there trips to explain things that we saw, as our (substitute?) guide was not really up on what this was all about. There were objects recovered from graves, including one called the queens grave, like tiny and intricately designed clay womens heads and small vases called tear-catchers that women cried into upon the death of a loved one, and then buried with them. There were gorgeous brown and black clay pots depicting daily life and huge marble decorated tops of columns (Sue, thinking they were light fixtures, thought she was back in Las Vegas) and even a few sweat-and-grease scrapers that athletes used for Olympic-type games as they prepared their bodies for sport and display.
Then it was on to the fabric art display of Sylvie Clavel, a French dancer who was injured and had to leave her beloved dancing and from then on spent part of her year in France, part in Sambuca, working intricate knots into sculptures. Her spinal injury is reflected in much of her work. It is always breathtaking to see her creations again.
We picked up beautiful photo books at the tourist office depicting the Palio-type horse racing down Main Street that celebrates in May the Feast of Maria SS dell Udienza, one of the bigger churches in the town center. That is a picture of Sue walking toward the altar in that church under the Murano glass chandeliers. We visited the lovely town theater, a little gem of great pride to the locals. It has three tiers of box seats from which Steve and I saw a high school performance a few years back. Next on the agenda was an attraction I had never seen before-the well hidden Arab quarter.
After the Belice valley earthquake that damaged so much in this area, the town resurfaced the Kasbah-like streets entered through the ancient archway so that the small roadways look like the medieval cobbles seen in Erice. But there is no vehicular traffic allowed, so you must see it on foot. There are little piazzas with outdoor art and an ancient church on almost every corner. The picture shown of one corner has an oil amphora (upper left) from ancient times cemented up into a wall with a manger scene roof (kept up year round) below and a baroque balcony decoration on the right. A very friendly deaf woman sitting outside in her chair pointed it out to us as we walked by. The ancient church shown is Chiesa del Rosario, put up by the Jesuits to help the neighborhood cope with the constant appearance of Arab ghosts in its streets.
What a town! And what a feast we had at our own Sciacca gourmet restaurant, Hostaria del Vicolo, as we near the end of their time in Sciacca. Other recent guests here might recognize the garlic mounted in the cement of the covered archway that signals good eating down that alley.
We went to Sambuca di Sicilia because it is one of my favorite little mountain towns (outside of the big cities, it seems all of Sicily is made of such towns). The people there have an incredible pride in their many tourist resources. We drove a short way on the big road then through the land of grape vines, past Feudo Arancia, the new big wine conglomerate from the north, past rain swollen Lago Arancia and on to the little town itself.
There is a small museum on the top floor of the municipal building. But even though an elevator is there it is never available. So when you must climb several flights of stairs you see the damn elevator door at every landing. Typical Sicilian passive aggression-someone probably has lost the key to the thing, which was put in only for compliance to handicapped rules anyway (so they could get federal funds). A more likely explanation is they are just too lazy and cost conscious to run it. Same old, same old, incompetence as you would meet in the states, only there are few advocates for consumers here, none that I have found actually.
Anyway, the museum is a treasure trove, showing objects from the thriving Greek settlement on Mount Adranone (only uncovered in the 60s) that overlooks Sambuca, and the later Punic settlement. There are no pictures allowed, but we saw objects that were beautiful and fascinating, and I remembered enough from other there trips to explain things that we saw, as our (substitute?) guide was not really up on what this was all about. There were objects recovered from graves, including one called the queens grave, like tiny and intricately designed clay womens heads and small vases called tear-catchers that women cried into upon the death of a loved one, and then buried with them. There were gorgeous brown and black clay pots depicting daily life and huge marble decorated tops of columns (Sue, thinking they were light fixtures, thought she was back in Las Vegas) and even a few sweat-and-grease scrapers that athletes used for Olympic-type games as they prepared their bodies for sport and display.
Then it was on to the fabric art display of Sylvie Clavel, a French dancer who was injured and had to leave her beloved dancing and from then on spent part of her year in France, part in Sambuca, working intricate knots into sculptures. Her spinal injury is reflected in much of her work. It is always breathtaking to see her creations again.
We picked up beautiful photo books at the tourist office depicting the Palio-type horse racing down Main Street that celebrates in May the Feast of Maria SS dell Udienza, one of the bigger churches in the town center. That is a picture of Sue walking toward the altar in that church under the Murano glass chandeliers. We visited the lovely town theater, a little gem of great pride to the locals. It has three tiers of box seats from which Steve and I saw a high school performance a few years back. Next on the agenda was an attraction I had never seen before-the well hidden Arab quarter.
After the Belice valley earthquake that damaged so much in this area, the town resurfaced the Kasbah-like streets entered through the ancient archway so that the small roadways look like the medieval cobbles seen in Erice. But there is no vehicular traffic allowed, so you must see it on foot. There are little piazzas with outdoor art and an ancient church on almost every corner. The picture shown of one corner has an oil amphora (upper left) from ancient times cemented up into a wall with a manger scene roof (kept up year round) below and a baroque balcony decoration on the right. A very friendly deaf woman sitting outside in her chair pointed it out to us as we walked by. The ancient church shown is Chiesa del Rosario, put up by the Jesuits to help the neighborhood cope with the constant appearance of Arab ghosts in its streets.
What a town! And what a feast we had at our own Sciacca gourmet restaurant, Hostaria del Vicolo, as we near the end of their time in Sciacca. Other recent guests here might recognize the garlic mounted in the cement of the covered archway that signals good eating down that alley.
posted by Sicilian Mama at 8:42 AM
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