Hike no Bike

Our only cycling holiday day without cycling finds us pulling on hiking trousers and heading to the sunny terrace at Sacre Pietre for a true farm breakfast (complete with the resident ratters hanging around in hopes of a scrap of dropped ham or ricotta).  Our host, Vincenzo, who already has laid the breakfast table with a fresh checkered cloth and simple place settings -- arrives promptly pouring fresh squeezed orange juice from the farm.  He is an interesting man -- there is no apparent partner nor kids to help in his hosting duties, but the place is abuzz with painters and electricians.  Before we can finish our juice, Vincenzo brings hard boiled eggs (peeled and sliced) drizzled in olive oil (both the eggs and the oil are from the farm), toast and feather-cut ham.  Next to appear are fresh ricotta, tangerine (mandarin) marmalade, apples. kiwi and a delicious rustic pistachio torte.  Having only tested and dabbled at breakfasts prior to this, I eat wholeheartedly and relish every bite.

On our schedule today (dawning sunny and a bit warmer than the day before) is a hike into the island's largest necropolis, Pantalica.  Vincenzo draws a strip map to get us into the archeological site -- and also onto the path to the ancient Byzantine Village, high on a hilltop on a path that winds through the tombs and dwellings carved into the limestone walls of the magnificent Pantalica Gorge.  

Porcupine quills

The walk to the park entrance is about a kilometer and trips along a rutted dirt road through orange groves -- trees heavy with fruit.  For the next five or so hours we explore the paths and enjoy the quiet and beauty of the site at the confluence of the Bottiglera and Anapo Rivers.  The river banks and bed are littered with evidence of the harsh fall/winter floods that hit the region just months ago.  Great trees lay with exposed roots, stripped limbs still trailing in the powerful water.  Stands of bamboo are strewn like tinker toys in other places.  In ancient times these magnificent canyons provided safe shelter first, to the ancient kingdom of Hybla, and later to locals seeking refuge from Arab invasion.  The trees and brush are alive with the sounds of birds. Lizards dart along the canyon walls.  The occasional snake crosses our path. But the most amusing discovery in nature is the appearance of porcupine quills along the trails (and even in one of the three dark tunnels through which we pass.  Given that one quill is more than 6" long, we aren't necessarily sorry not to see its owner.

Caves at Pantalica

Given the quiet of the place, I have to wonder how many tourists ever visit Pantalica.  All day, we see only two farmers (managing orange and pistachios groves within a small section of the park) and one couple walking.  Between the rush of the Anapo River and the wind through the trees, this is among the most peaceful of places.  The fact that the white noise drowned out my tinnitus was pretty wonderful!  OK, I have to add that it feels good to have a day off the bike (to me anyway).

When we got back to the agristurismo, Vincenzo was standing by with wine and cheese.  Best yet, he poured himself a glass and joined us as we mingled English, German, Spanish and Italian to communicate.  We learned that Vincenzo has owned the agriturismo for six years.  Previously he managed (and maybe cooked) at the restaurant below.  He has three rooms (in addition to ours, there is one more, facing the sunrise), and is putting the finishing touches on a kitchen and dining room.  He lives in Sortino (the largest city in the valley), where he has four chickens, each of which efficiently lay just one egg each day.  He guides us into his orange grove and proudly points out his well, which he assures us finds its source at the Teatro fountain in Siracusa.

A determined plant finds a root hold in the canyon wall at Pantalica

Finally it's back to the restaurant below the agriturismo for dinner.  Pizza this time.  And if last evening was the longest dining experience, tonight is the LOUDEST!  Seated in the middle of the very crowded dining room full of Sicilian families and friends, we give up trying to converse and just settle into the hum and rhythm of the Italian language (to my ears perhaps the most beautiful of all tongues).

Cliff, Axel and Bettina at the top of the Ankytoron, Pantalica

Tonight, we don't even try the heat in our room. Instead, we pile two comforters on our bed and snuggle in for the last sleep-to-bike day.  Tomorrow our cycling loop terminates upon our return to Siracusa.