Sicily

It was a return to Sicily after 9 years. I didn’t know then, that this was my last trip before the pandemic. February 2020.

the island had me cornered. Postmafia towns, empty and simultaneously noisy Palermo. Sad museums, faded exhibits. Dead pigeons among rotting oranges i

n orto botanico.

In the suburbs, ” the other” cities – made of plywood and sheet metal, into which black workers from the surrounding industrial tomato and strawberry fields. Gates, walls, vacant buildings. Bulky structures without a scrap of green. A littered quay where everyone is walking, throwing out their garbage

Before the tourist season, the island stopped pretending.

Yes, there is a blue sea, strong wine, wild fennel fields around ancient temples. There are red oranges, pistachio creams and Byzantine mosaics. Trees, like cathedrals.

There is also sadness. And fatigue. Great tiredness. I bid you farewell, Sicily, wishing you a moment of respite.