Why is Italy on fire?

It was Rome, with its dry flatness and ruvine around. Ten years ago, Jose, my best friend from high school, was waiting for me with a bacci mcflurry by Termini station; this time I was also meeting one of my best friends but from grad school, Shashwat.

Rome, with its wide boulevard from Colisseum through Caesar’s forum, its plummeting structures, its Fontana, its pistaccio gelato, was charming, but it was only a pit stop. 

From the Egyptian references to the carved marvel, I was captivated by the thought of Pompeii and its people burnt to its feet. Across the city, a mountain was in flames. In Ecuador, when I see this, I regularly call the fireguard. This time, impotent, I just turned to see the horizon. Pompeii was still burning, the mountains were still burning and Pink Floyd played live in the back.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the conservation of our cultural heritage. How does humanity decide what is ‘worth’ preserving? Who makes this decision? Nowadays with the lowering costs of building disposable infrastructure, what will be worth remembering? What will future generations want to know about us? Talking about this with Shashwat, he pointed to the transcendence of ideas rather than infrastructure. You would hope those would be connected.

Sunset caught us arriving to Via Equina.

Down the winding roads there was a small procession for a virgin that was being moved into the church. People were singing praises. It must be the Vatican vicinity but I had only seen this devotion during Psalm Sundays in my hometown. The swinging lights by the roofs and the disappearing chorus walked us to the pier for dinner.
Fireworks accompanied the wine and gnocchi. It was nothing short of exquisite.

Our day driving through Amalfi, with its cliffs, beaches and winding roads led to another time machine driving through the 80s in the south of Italy before taking the ferry to Sicily. Wildfires always by the horizon.

(Pause for Shashwat in Milazzo with granite limone before our first ferry into the Aeolian Islands)

We arrived in Vulcano to take a vespa around the island. A fire was visible around each curve.

Swimming next to a fuming volcano seems alluring. There was an old man sitting inside the mud; it seemed safe to walk in. A scream came from my deepest self as I lowered my toes into the sand floor. It burnt. I thought I was so loud I would have the whole town come over. The volcano actually erupts every so often and the temperature rises. My feet were red but fine.

Both Shashwat and I got covered in mud and he wrote me weeks later to say sulphur was his demise. I took a mental picture of his smiling face when covered in mud.

Obsidian glass is rock yet brittle -not everything is what it seems, the hardest things can break. Thoughts as I picked a piece of obsidian to bring as a token.

Acqua calda in Lipari was a pleasant surprise with its catch of the day and its luxurious hotel. I finally got to dive in the Tyrrhenian Sea and its deep cold blue through a school of fish. One of the guys I was diving with spoke of a prehistoric shark that exists since dinosaur times with its 6 pairs of gills that should be visible at other times of the year.

We made our way to touristy Taormina and as beautiful as it may be, we were longing the quiet of the Aeolians.

We ended up staying in this beautiful agro-touristic spot near Taormina and enjoyed coffee on the rooftop while peering into the night sky.

Catania was our last stop. There was a welcome with prosecco by the veranda, beach passes and a map with recommendations. People do make places.

On our way back home from the beach we stopped by an area that seemed very local – no tourists to be seen. Horse meat was on Bourdain’s Sicily episode so we wanted to try it. Leon served us this piece, which I actually ate (too much of a flexitarian while traveling). An Italian sat next to me and he really wanted to chat. So, he told me he was an archeology professor as he fanned his wad of cash and handed hundreds to people coming by as we talked- mafia much?

The next day I don’t remember very clearly. Besides the fantastic fish market with its sirocco deliciousness, I was sad to leave. I was sad I didn’t know when I would see Shashwat again.

The heat by the airport reminded me of the continuous flames. So often I have thought of Europe as invulnerable to nature. History shows otherwise. There is still so much to learn on resilience. Everywhere. But that’s my climate change adaptation geekiness peaking in.

Mel

Prosecco and arancini – (why isn’t this a comfort food everywhere? Perfect combination)