Paris to Sicily

I'm tired. As I write this, it is nearing fifteen hours since we woke up, jumped in a car, headed to the airport and flew from Paris to Sicily. Home to Dad's aunt, uncle and cousin; and another of his cousins is also here for a while with her family.

I'll tell you one thing: if you ever want to feel like an absolute celebrity, arrive in an airport to a reception of Italian relatives. The smiles and waves we received were something else. And it didn't take long until Anita and I were being told how "bella" we were. So we grabbed our hire car and headed from Catania airport into Syracuse. A quick drop in at the B&B where we'd arranged to stay and then off to see the rest of the relatives.

What met us at Dad's cousin's house was a table set for twelve and a four course meal at three in the afternoon. There was lots of it, and it was all good. We ate more than we had in our entire time in Paris, and then sat around and caught up with relatives that Mum and Dad haven't seen for thirty years - Anita and I never having met them before. It was loud and happy and fun. Most of the conversation happening was in Italian (which none of us speak well enough to keep up, Dad has some knowledge but isn't fluent) but there were enough English speakers to keep us interested and entertained all afternoon.

A quick walk through the surrounding streets and we said our goodbyes for the night - already exhausted as of about 6pm. Lots of walking and eating planned for tomorrow.


Alison