We've been here for about two weeks, and are just starting to adjust to life on Palermo's streets. On the chaotic alleyways of this city, scenes of striking beauty are almost as common as mountains of trash. But somehow, ancient elegance and modern grime work together well, giving Palermo an authentic feeling of life. If it all were clean and sparkly, the city wouldn't be nearly as captivating.
On the streets of Palermo, the only things which stick out more than the ancient palaces are big Sicilian bellies. The sight of obese men puttering around on Vespas is a daily amusement, and even many of the toddlers have a few pounds on me. Of course, it's all perfectly understandable. Along with pizza, pasta and ice cream, Sicilians turn out to be masters of fried food.
Stepping into the neighborhood just behind the somber bulk of Palermo's Cathedral feels like entering another country. An Arabic one, to be precise. Il Capo is one of the city's oldest neighborhoods, and has managed to retain a distinctly Moorish influence in its streets and market.
Near Palermo's Quattro Canti is the Church of Santa Caterina, whose modest exterior belies the Baroque magnificence waiting inside. Construction on the church began in 1566, but the interior decoration dates from the 17th and 18th centuries, when Baroque was at its height, and the Catholic church was encouraging intricate detail and emotional themes.
Palermo, at least the port-side Vucciria where we lived, is loud. There were times I couldn't believe the noise. Music was played at incredible volumes by our neighbors, including the 6-year-old below us who danced every night on his balcony in his underwear. People, standing close enough to kiss, shout at each other, because that's just the way they talk. Perhaps they're going deaf. That's it, first impression #1: People in Palermo are going deaf.
The uneven, twisting alleyways which dominate the ancient center of Palermo are charming, but a navigational nightmare. Funny, then, that the dead center of the historic district is an impeccably laid-out intersection, and one of Europe's earliest examples of urban planning.
Jürgen and I pulled into Palermo at 6pm on a balmy Saturday evening in September, and were at a pizzeria exactly seventeen minutes later, forks in hand, napkins tucked carelessly into collars. Suitcases could be unpacked later; sitting down to an authentic Sicilian pizza was something we'd been looking forward to for too long.
