AGRIGENTO 2025

Young people I talk to often ask what my favourite cities are and I always reply that in Italy, they are Agrigento and Florence because both literally took my breath away when I first saw them. I add that in the UK, London has to be on my list, for the simple reason that Dr Johnson was right and it has everything, while Cardiff has to feature because it is the city where I have lived longer than anywhere else, and Bath because it is so easily walkable and has homogenous stone which, like that of Noto (another Sicilian favourite) glows light amber in sunlight. But Agrigento lifts my heart, reminds me why I came to Italy and retells the story of Western European culture.

I was very pleased, therefore, to read last week that Agrigento has been chosen as Italian Capital of Culture 2025 for it is an honour it has long deserved. Gennaro Sangiuliano, Italy's Minister of Culture, said on Friday that the (cultural) wealth and interconnectedness of so many places, cities and villages in Italy are unique in the world and something that only Italy has, making the country a cultural superpower. Every town, even the smallest, he said, is a treasure trove. 

The Commission awarding the title was impressed by the fact that Agrigento included in its application the cultural importance of the island of Lampedusa and other towns in Agrigento Province, and stressed the importance of the relationship between the individual, his or her neighbours and nature. The concepts of welcome and access were also at the heart of the dossier.

Francesco Miccichè, the Mayor of Agrigento, said that Agrigento and Sicily had not really won because the real winner is Italy, and to have written and promoted this application in this historic political period, focussing on cultural exchange between peoples and the diverse ethnicities of the Mediterranean, was a great act of courage and sensitivity on behalf of the judges and all the institutions involved. He then issued an invitation to all the mayors who had participated in the competition to help create a tourist network from Aosta (in the Alps) all the way down to Agrigento, uniting all of them by being Italian.

As a lover of Agrigento, I feel very proud of her myself and I have written before on this blog about how I think its Sagra del mandorlo in fiore (Almond Blossom Festival) unites young people in particular and of how, on my first visit to Sicily, I managed to find and visit the birthplace of the writer Luigi Pirandello, which you, too, may like to do if you are interested in literature and find yourself in Agrigento. The city itself is also welcoming and pleasant, and you should not miss an opportunity to visit the 13th century church of Santa Maria dei Greci (built on the site of a Greek temple, hence the name).

However, Agrigento's main attraction for tourists is, of course, its Valle dei Templi and it really does have to be seen to be believed (in a good way). The last time I was there was on a sunny spring day in 2018 and it looked, as it always has, glorious.

The Culture Minister also said that from 2024 there will be, in addition to an Italian Capital of Culture and an Italian Capital of Books, an Italian Capital of Contemporary Art and a European Capital of the Mediterranean.

SICILY SCENE REVISITED - AROUND THE ISLAND

Continuing my nostalgic journey through Sicily Scene's archives, I began to think about the many lovely places I have visited on this ever-fascinating island.  I have no doubt about my favourite - it is the Valley of Temples in Agrigento and I especially enjoyed this visit.  One of the most unusual events I have attended was the annual Easter display of "bread arches" at San Biagio Platani and I hope to get there again one day.  Then there is the Infiorata in Noto [coming up soon], which I try to attend every year and of course I love Catania! These are but a few of the island's treasures and there is always something new, somewhere, to discover.  But I think one of the most interesting trips I have taken was this early one, so I'll repeat the first of a series of posts on it here:

On the Nelson trail - 24th January 2007

About 37 miles northwest of Catania, tucked away in the shadow of Etna, lies the town of Bronte, the dukedom of which was bestowed upon a certain Admiral Horatio Nelson by a grateful King Ferdinando [III of Sicily and IV of Naples] in 1799. A little further on still is Maniace, where the former Benedictine Abbey became known as Il Castello dei Nelson. And that is where I have been today. It is a lovely and impressive place, as I hope the photos will show - much lovelier than I had anticipated. I should like to be able to tell you that England's saviour lingered there in the sun with his Emma - and many Sicilians believe that he did - but, alas, he died without ever having seen it. The first of his descendants to arrive there was his niece Charlotte, who, reaching it after a truly nightmarish journey, decided that it was not to her taste and stayed only three days! [More the fool her!] It was later used by other members of the family but under agrarian reform in Italy in 1961 much of the land was redistributed. The Nelson family sold the castle and park to the Comune of Bronte in 1981.

There may, however, be another British connection: the Rev. Patrick Prunty or Brunty, father of another Charlotte plus Emily, Anne and Branwell, changed his name to Brontë in 1802. I like to think that he did it as a homage to Nelson then added the diaeresis for effect and the dates do tally. By the way, I am not of the Mrs. Gaskell school of thought with regard to Patrick Brontë for I do not believe that he was a monster: he saw that his children were educated, encouraged them to write and cared for Branwell tenderly during the latter's last illness. I am also of the opinion that the main reason for his opposition to the Bell Nicholls marriage was concern for Charlotte's health, and in this he was, tragically, proved right. But I digress. Let us at least hope that poor, bereaved Mr. Brontë found some comfort in his name in the winter of his life. I wonder what, if anything, he knew of the little town in faraway, sunny Sicily? He was a well-read man, so it is possible that he knew something....

I now have to confess that I made this trip the lazy way. It would not be possible to get to Bronte and back in a day using public transport, so I hired a car and a driver. This is not a particularly cheap thing to do in Sicily but it was cheaper than staying in a Catania hotel overnight and, more importantly, saved me kennelling Simi for a night. ["And I should think so, too!" she is saying as she sits beside me, waiting for her walk.] This, again, is something the Sicilians need to sort out: no one will use Modica or anywhere else as a base if they can't get around. Not everyone wants to hire a car, as even if you are used to driving in Italy, to do so here is, at the very least, challenging! The best thing that towns of Modica's size could do to encourage tourism would be to organise escorted trips to places of interest such as Bronte.

But let us return to our hero. Nelson, me old hearty, I've always thought you looked terribly lonely all the way up there on that column. So next time I'm in London, I'll sit in the National Gallery's restaurant, gaze across at you and tell you all about your Duchy of Bronte today. How's that?

More photos - and more, and more - in a minute!

Here are links to the other posts about this visit:

On the Nelson trail - 2
On the Nelson trail - 3
On the Nelson trail - 4
On the Nelson trail - 5
On the Nelson trail - 6
On the Nelson trail - 7


I hope you enjoy them.

MUST BE SPRING

CAN SPRING BE FAR BEHIND?

A SAGRA FOR ALL

My friend Carol King and I nearly backed out of a coach trip to Agrigento on Sunday when an 05.30 departure was announced but we decided that we really did want to attend the 67th Sagra del Mandorlo in Fiore [Almond Blossom Festival] so up we got and off we went.

When the coaches arrived at our boarding point we were both somewhat disconcerted to see people loading enormous bags and even suitcases into the luggage compartment and wondered what could be in them as this wasn't a trip with an overnight stay.  Then we saw some familiar shapes covered in special waxed paper being carefully placed on top of the bags and we understood:  our travelling companions had been loading their packed lunches!  Every Sunday they go to the pasticceria to buy trays of pastries and why should this Sunday have been any different just because they were going on a trip?

To be honest, I had been hoping for a good nap on the four-hour journey and had thought my fellow-passengers would be feeling the same.  However, they were all remarkably chirpy.  By 8 am an animated discussion about how to make the best pane di casa [homemade bread] was in full swing with the men confidently contributing what they assured us were the most reliable cooking tips.

Luck was with us weather-wise and the sun was shining on Agrigento's honey-coloured temples as we approached the Valle dei Templi.  When I saw Concordia in all its breathtaking glory I felt as I always do in Akrigas - as though I have finally come home.

Once we had disembarked Carol firmly steered me past the market traders with their tempting trinkets and on we walked to the town centre where the processions would shortly be taking place.  Everything had been well organised and the parade began only half an hour late, which is excellent in these parts.

First came the bersaglieri, playing a fanfare.  One cannot, of course, take photos of the bersaglieri for public display but I thought you would like to admire the magnificent hat worn by this fine gentleman from one of their benevolent associations:

Then came these jolly folk:

Band after band appeared:

There were knights aplenty

and who needs to go to London for the Jubilee?

Our friends from across the pond were not forgotten

and folk groups from all over the world joined the procession.

The flag-throwers performed amazing feats:  up and up went the flags, time after time, and time after time they were expertly caught:

Suddenly it was time for lunch by a shimmering sea:

Afterwards, on the coach, everyone was offered a glass of Limoncello by the tour organisers.

And so to the highlight of the day - the performances by international folk groups and prize-giving ceremony in the Valle dei Templi with the Temple of Concordia as the backdrop.  Now my days of clambering up Sicilian hillsides like a mountain goat are over so I couldn't get high enough or close enough to get good shots of the performers but I hope at least to give you a flavour of the multicultural nature of the event:

As I watched both performers and spectators from my perch atop a stone, I realised that here was Italy at its greatest: there has to be hope for a country where so many young people can gather peacefully and joyfully to watch such an event taking place in front of a building which has stood for 2,500 years.  It didn't matter that they weren't always listening; what mattered was that they had come. There were also elderly folk like me, people nel mezzo del cammin della vita, babies and dogs.  Everyone was welcome at Agrigento yesterday.

The Agrigento Almond Blossom Festival began in 1934 in the town of Naro, where its aim was to celebrate spring by giving farm workers a day off and some fun.  Later the Festival was moved to Agrigento and over the years, the word spread, not only in the rest of Italy but around the world.  The white almond blossom represents peace and friendship and it is in this spirit that people from many countries meet and find "concord".

An added attraction this year has been a collection of sculptures by Igor Mitoraj.  These bronze "giants of mythology" have been placed around the temples and are on display until 20th February.

We left the lovely Valle at sunset, having enjoyed a truly international festival in the most beautiful of settings.

Everyone has their own vision of eternity.  This is mine:

Agrigento - Tempio di Concordia

Agrigento - Tempio di Ercole

SURPRISED BY BEAUTY

Grumpily grappling with the difficulties of small town life this morning, chief among these being poorly -routed public transport, I was uttering some choice expressions under my breath as I trudged back from the supermarket and was beeped at every two minutes: "Where do you bloody well expect me to walk when there's no goddamn pavement?!" I wanted to yell. Then I just gasped in amazement at the sight of this precocious almond blossom. It was almost worth nearly getting run over and being beeped at again as I took the photo!

UN PAIO DI FOTO

Just a couple of photos for you this afternoon; we have got our blue sky back and so I went around snapping what took my fancy. The juxtaposition of the almond tree among the palms struck me in this garden as I passed and I have always liked the statue of Christ looking out over the town and, hopefully, protecting it, from the other side of the Sacro Cuore Church.