PALERMO
Recollections by Laura Blanco - 20 May 2008
We are where we started - in Palermo – gritty Palermo. It is no different from many other cities with its graffiti, junkies, prostitutes, stray dogs and the constant sound of the backhoe at work while the salty wind reminds one of its ancient origins. It is a city that uncomfortably combines the architectural beauty of the past, with the blight that modern man has built. To live here you probably resign yourself to these realities and try to focus on the strength of family, community and history. You share a meal of the incredible agricultural bounty of this country and you experience an emotional shift and a sense of wellbeing.
The people we have met are warm and always accommodating – from the gentleman who drives our bus, to the hotel staff, to the owners of the homes we have visited. Eye contact is instant and comforting.
Our hosts have generously opened their beautiful homes to strangers who appreciate their efforts and every detail. At Lanza Tomasi the owner cooked for us, taking great pride in her Venetian heritage.
The extraordinary Principessa Calvello walked us through Palazzo Gangi, a vast structure lovingly and impeccably restored for the past thirteen years. After hearing about the difficulties she has encountered along the way, I will think twice before I complain about our restoration efforts in the States. This woman is doing important work against extremely difficult odds. At all times, these vast, magnificent palaces felt like someone’s home, regardless of the historical importance of the settings.
Four days of memories and it’s overwhelming: The arid geography with its gorgeous plant life; a grouping of black cats curiously staring at us from an alleyway; a lone dog of questionable pedigree taking a nap; the coolness of the courtyards; and finally, the rugged and poetic beauty of Segesta. This countryside with its soaring, vertical mountains – black hovering clouds with a perfect spotlight of sun on the horizon. A John Gandy painting has just come to life. I get it.
We are where we started - in Palermo – gritty Palermo. It is no different from many other cities with its graffiti, junkies, prostitutes, stray dogs and the constant sound of the backhoe at work while the salty wind reminds one of its ancient origins. It is a city that uncomfortably combines the architectural beauty of the past, with the blight that modern man has built. To live here you probably resign yourself to these realities and try to focus on the strength of family, community and history. You share a meal of the incredible agricultural bounty of this country and you experience an emotional shift and a sense of wellbeing.
The people we have met are warm and always accommodating – from the gentleman who drives our bus, to the hotel staff, to the owners of the homes we have visited. Eye contact is instant and comforting.
Our hosts have generously opened their beautiful homes to strangers who appreciate their efforts and every detail. At Lanza Tomasi the owner cooked for us, taking great pride in her Venetian heritage.
The extraordinary Principessa Calvello walked us through Palazzo Gangi, a vast structure lovingly and impeccably restored for the past thirteen years. After hearing about the difficulties she has encountered along the way, I will think twice before I complain about our restoration efforts in the States. This woman is doing important work against extremely difficult odds. At all times, these vast, magnificent palaces felt like someone’s home, regardless of the historical importance of the settings.
Four days of memories and it’s overwhelming: The arid geography with its gorgeous plant life; a grouping of black cats curiously staring at us from an alleyway; a lone dog of questionable pedigree taking a nap; the coolness of the courtyards; and finally, the rugged and poetic beauty of Segesta. This countryside with its soaring, vertical mountains – black hovering clouds with a perfect spotlight of sun on the horizon. A John Gandy painting has just come to life. I get it.
