OUT AND ABOUT

It is so good to be able to get out and about independently again and, as today has been gloriously sunny, I ventured down to some of my old haunts in the via Sacro Cuore and found a new one, too: “Where’s the paper shop gone?” I asked myself in a panic the first time I was able to walk down there. It was a couple of days before I realised that it has been modernised, having become a bookshop as well and that the café, which at first glance I thought had replaced it, has merely been built in front of it, which is quite a good idea. I checked out the latter at aperitivo time for I always say that you can tell what a café is really like by whether they bring you a complimentary plate of tramezzini [little bites] at that hour and if they do, by the speed and generosity of the service. Those in the photograph came along immediately, were attractively arranged and the plate contained a good variety of tastes. This café is not somewhere to have a meal but could be a pleasant stopping -off place to have a coffee or g&t whilst playing my favourite game of "people-watching".

In the stationer’s the owner wanted to know all about my recent absence from Raffaele the hairdresser’s and the street in general and much empathy was expressed. Then , in the perfumery, the manageress asked how I was and added, “You know, when you came in looking so pale, leaning on your friend’s arm a couple of months ago I was really upset to see an independent, capable woman like you having to be supported like that.” [This was in October, just before I went into hospital and I was purchasing a few essentials to go in such as perfume – a girl has to keep trying whatever the circumstances!] I have, of course, visited the shop since my recovery but, due to the Christmas rush, this is the first time the lady has had a moment to chat. Isn’t it strange, how other people see you? - “Independent and capable” is certainly not how I see myself!

Just now, coming back with Simi, a voice behind me yelled “Signora!” and, turning in the darkness, I recognised the gentleman from the bookshop in our street : “Buona sera”, said I, thinking he only wanted to greet Simi and me, but then he came up to us proffering a tray of handmade biscuits, encouraging me to take not one, but two. “What’s the occasion?” I asked. “Oh, it’s my cousin’s birthday and I thought I’d celebrate it at work as well as later on when I see him.”

No outing is dull in Sicily!