Sicilian Street Food and Exquisite Decrepitude

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Palermo, Sicily, Italy

Our passage to Palermo was half a day of discomfort. With the wind on our nose, Dreams crashed and bashed her way through the waves slamming down with a force that put me on edge despite knowing it sounded worse than it actually was.

Feeling physically and mentally rattled and exhausted, arrival at Palermo Marina was not without its trials.  Even though it’s still early season, the only space available for us was on the old docks, not the fancy new ones that have been built in recent years and there was absolutely no negotiating on the price. We decided to pay the full 120€ to be at the old end of the marina and just suck it up.  There aren’t any good anchorages in proximity to the city so you either take what you can get or move on.

Our spot was adjacent to the local rowing club and we were ushered into our slip alongside a crappy old blue skiff.  I failed to set our fenders at the correct height so as we docked we managed to scrape our port hull alongside the skiff and now have a few marks to commemorate our entry into Palermo.  

Meanwhile Mike had to react quickly on the throttle to get more distance between the stern of Dreams and the dock before our dinghy, Beyond slammed into the concrete dock.   

Neither of us were very happy but there were things to do; secure the lines, set up the passerelle, check in and take care of paperwork and formalities and only then could I have a meltdown.  

For me, docking is the most traumatic side of sailing.  I know I am getting better at it,  but how many mistakes will I make before I totally get it down?  Will I ever totally get it down?

So, here we are on a dirty, smelly old dock. The temperature has soared, so the inside of Dreams is hotter than a hot house and I’m still wearing my sailing thermals. Meltdown!

Meanwhile outside, Italian rap music blasts loudly from the rowing club gym as the young, beautiful and very buff rowers flex and flirt with fascinating flair.  If I wasn’t having a meltdown I might have enjoyed watching the peacocks at play.

After taking a moment, freshening up and changing into some lighter clothes we put our docking disaster behind us and ventured into Palermo to have a look around.

After just a few hours walking around we felt like we’d already got a good feel for the city.  We enjoyed getting lost in the labyrinth of lanes and alleyways which almost always led to a piazza filled with bars and restaurants and the ubiquitous laundry hanging from balconies above. 

The architecture in Palermo is a photographers dream;  grand old buildings in a state of decay somehow looked all the more attractive for the peeling paint and crumbling plaster.  I heard it described as “exquisite decrepitude” which sums it up perfectly.  I loved it.

Palermo is not a pristine clean city.  There was a strong presence of street cleaners yet curiously rubbish bins overflowed and I had to side step a number of times to avoid treading in dog poop.

For what Palermo lacked in cleanliness it more than made up for in personality. Vibrant and pulsing with life, it had an energy I have not experienced in any other city.  Bustling and busy by day, it went into overdrive in the evening as both locals and visitors took to the streets to eat, drink and promenade.  

Despite the abundance of restaurants with tables and chairs spilling out onto the cobblestone streets, we had a tough time finding somewhere to eat as every seat was taken. Fortunately we’d feasted on some Sicilian street food earlier in the day so we were sustained with Arancini and gelato to tide us over until we could get a table.

Around 10 pm after a brief wait we were seated at one of the many highly rated pizzerias and settled in to enjoy a classic Sicilian pizza. Perfectly cooked dough and the freshest local ingredients made it a pizza to remember.  I was sure I didn’t have room for desert but Mike reminded me we hadn’t yet sampled the infamous cannoli, so I rallied and forced myself to eat half of his.  What can I say?  It was delicious.

Despite the trials and tribulations earlier in the day, we walked back to Dreams with full bellies and big smiles.

4 thoughts on “Sicilian Street Food and Exquisite Decrepitude

  1. Toni,
    The most stressful manoeuvres on a boat are docking and mooring. To whit:
    The Liveaboard Wife.
    By Jan Grieveson – Yacht Mychi – July 2018

    In all of the oceans and all of the seas
    In every large harbour and every town quay
    The greatest sight you will see in your life
    Is that maiden of Iron… the Liveaboard wife

    The skipper stands solemn, the wheel in his hand
    Barking out orders each time they sight land
    The liveaboard wife takes it all in her stride
    Cos she’ll get her revenge when the boats safely tied

    Stern to me dearie, the skipper commands
    As the wife runs like hell, a line in each hand
    She climbs through the stern gear and makes the lines fast
    Then drags out the gangplank that’s tied to the mast

    Fenders me dearie, both starboard and port
    As she leaps into action with no second thoughts
    Quickly my dearie, you do have the knack
    Two under each arm, one strapped to her back

    The anchor my darling, we’ll go astern now
    As she runs to the foredeck and lands at the bow
    She wrestles the anchor lets the windlass go free
    As a ton of chain metal falls into the sea

    To the stern, the stern… today would be fine
    He screams as she sprints to throw the aft line
    Tie it off fast dear and run to the bow
    The winds got our head… get the anchor tight now

    Soon all is calm as the boat settles in
    And the liveaboard wife returns with the gin
    No words are spoken as she pours out her vice
    5 parts gin…. 1 tonic…. 1 ice

    The neighbouring yachtsmen make our skippers head swell
    Great boat handling sir, you brought her in well
    The last straw was broken for the liveaboard wife
    Who threw a left hook designed to end life

    So caution to all ye sailors who head out to sea
    Never take for granted what sleeps next to thee
    The greatest asset any yachtsman has got
    Is that liveaboard wife…. that climbs on a yacht!

    1. Oh Susan, this poem had me crying with laughter into my toast this morning. I shall think of this and smile every time we now go into a marina. Thank you.

  2. Again, beautifully written. Never been to Palermo, nor any of your stops, but your descriptive writings certainly makes one feel they’re there.

  3. Awesome description of Palermo Toni! We were there two years ago but I couldn’t have put it in words as well as you have.

    Sorry the entry was troublesome. You’ll nail the docking, I know it!

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