When someone has treated you badly commiserations are always welcome and at the moment, nothing cheers me up more than hearing friends and acquaintances express the opinion that the offending party should "Vaffanculo" - the Italian equivalent of "f off".
Thus it was that, having related my tale of woe to the beautician on Saturday, I felt immensely comforted by the string of "Vaffanculi" she uttered whilst setting to rights both my feet and my face. I should point out that there are no chiropodists in Modica - the nearest one is in Ragusa - so the task of preparing the feet of the city's women for summer is entrusted to its many beauticians who, I must say, do a good job.
In Britain a visit to the beautician is a relaxing experience and you can drift into golden slumbers whilst being pampered in the presence of relaxing new-age music. Such sweet dreaming is but a fond memory in this particular salon, though, as any music played is usually the loudest rock 'n' roll, greetings are yelled at other customers as they arrive, gossip is exchanged at the top of everyone's voice and equipment is clanged about. The face steamer is as noisy as a Great Western locomotive - but effective - and it would be a brave blemish that defied the beautician's determined squeezing afterwards. Add to all this my own screaming as foot flaws are mercilessly dealt with and you have quite a noisy morning!
 |
| Locomotive at Acireale, Sicily |
However, a face pack and thirty or so "Vaffanculi" later I feel a lot better, as fresh as a Sicilian mai flower and ready for summer. I am walking on air!
 |
| Mai flowers at Kamarina, Sicily |
