"pasta is life"

"Have you been to the Greek theater yet?" Giuseppe asked at breakfast. I sighed. Another amphitheater. I had been to the Colosseum and the one at Pompeii where Pink Floyd played and the one at Siracusa....

"No, this one is better," he insisted. Because of the sea.…

It was raining when I woke up. Cold rain that turned to hail during breakfast. We watched it on the rooftop in disbelief. But it cleared up. I bundled up and trudged off.

The settlement of Naxos dates to 734 BC. After its destruction in 403 BC by Dionysus of Syracuse, Tauromenion was erected in its place in 358 BC.

The city became a Roman military colony in the 1st century BC and ultimately was razed by Arabs in the 9th century AD. It's a lot closer to the mainland than the rest of Sicily, so a lot easier to get to, and invade.

But in the mean time, this glorious theater on the hill hosted first plays and later brutal Roman spectacles, with ostriches and elephants.

(I learned some of this from eavesdropping on a tour group. Although the acoustics are excellent, so I was seated a ways up. One man stood at center stage and sang, and then the woman with him kissed in a passionate embrace.)

Etna got a fresh coat of snow last night. Giuseppe said he went up there, and it was freezing and miserable. He also said that eating pasta is why Sicilians live to be 100. Maybe it has something to do with this view.

On my way to lunch, I passed these ruins of the terme—historic thermal baths. It was just me and a couple of wary cats.

I decided it was time to try eggplant parmigiana.  Here it was baked, with a sweet tomato sauce. The waiter caught me sopping up the sauce with a roll and nodded approvingly.

But I couldn't bring myself to order a cassatine, now that I know they are meant to be the breasts of poor St. Agata.

When the sun went down, the temperature plunged again and the wind picked up. Ultimately I abandoned my plan to hear a New Year's concert (of local boy Bellini!) at a church on the other side of town, in favor of huddling in my warm room, celebrating the return of Nancy Pelosi. 

Rome will seem warm after this. Right? 

I will miss Sicily, from the lively resort towns to the temporarily deserted cities. The info signs around town say Taormina Cult, documenting the rich heritage of writers and composers and painters who've lived here. They missed their chance at a good slogan for souvenirs. If there's a cult, count me in.