Sicily (and Switzerland & Spain): Fall & Winter 2003

The Island That Europe Forgot

I saw Mt. Etna growing through the haze from the plane. So that was it. I made good on the promise to myself and was in Sicily. It was only the second time I had ever been out of the US and the first to be alone, Canada popped my cherry with my family when I was 8. I was fairly nervous, especially when I got there and found my ride: A greasy, coked-up cab driver that looked like he had been awake for more than a few days. After a few minutes on the road from Catania to Siracusa I started getting used to seeing so much trash along the Autostrada and the sweltering heat then a message came over the CB radio, in Italian of course. The cabbie smirked and giggled then translated, “You got here just in time, my friend. Two planes just collided on the tarmac while taxiing.” What had I gotten myself into…..


Siracusa is one of oldest cities in Sicily, if not the oldest. It was founded as a Greek colony and has had permanent residents for around 3000 years. I lived on the fabled island of Ortigia, the birthplace of the original Greek colony and Archimedes. The oldest surviving Greek temple, The Temple of Apollo, and the famed Fountain of Aretusa were each about a 5 minute walk from my apartment. Needless to say, I was living in History.

We arrived at my apartment and I was liking what I was seeing. It was originally several different ones then combined and looked to be around 300 years old in some rooms. I had decided to make my own flight reservations to save money and gotten to Sicily a day before my roommate, and every other student who was enrolled for that matter. The two school counselors showed me around my place and then promptly departed for the air conditioned rooms of the school campus which was a 3 minute walk from my front door. I unpacked my things and surveyed the new pad then tried to go for a stroll… TRIED to go for a stroll. Upon reaching the front door I realized there was no door knob and was instantly dumbfounded. What to do? I fiddled with the lock for a few minutes then panic set in. Hungry, tired, and roasting, I sat down and went over about my options. 1. Wait until tomorrow. OR 2. Jump out of my second story balcony. Seeing as how I had absolutely no food, water, or cell phone I decided to jump. It was only about 12 ft (4m), but I hurt my ankle anyway. I found my way back around to my front door, got in and passed out. When I woke up later that night I heard some punk rock playing and decided I wanted to investigate. I stood up and cracked my head open on the concrete and wood-beamed ceiling. Zzzzzzzzzzz. Note: Mafiosi fire-bombed an Irish pub about 100 yards from my apartment for not ‘paying up’ directly after I arrived.

What a first day. But it got exponentially better.

The next few days were the standard meet & greet and after that things settled into place for the most part. The main characters for the semester were David Tourscher, Tommy D., and Ben J., and it is with them that I spent most of my time. Other friends of mention were were Ramzi, Ben ‘Hub 571’ Huber, Laura ‘Lowwra’ S., Diane N., and Carol D. We did it the ‘Sicilian Way’ with lots of drinking and laziness, and I’ve never seen people more lazy than Sicilians. The two bars we frequented were Buio and The Atrium which was owned by a Tunisian immigrant would hook us up nicely every time. Dave, Tom, and I got memberships to a local gym and worked out there frequently we also formed a school calcetto (mini-soccer) team, but I never actually played. We also invented a new form of being the most drunk at parties: ‘Triple Fisting,’ a notch up from double fisting. This was accomplished due to the fact that you can buy 3-packs of beer in Sicily.

The women, weather, scenery, architecture, friends, lifestyle, etc……. All were ‘meraviglioso.'

We went on several school trips, the first being to Lipari and the Aeolian Islands which are an hour ferry ride north of Milazzo in north eastern Sicily. It was 3 days of absolute paradise in 2 golf cart-like cars the Dave I rented to tour the islands. The memory that sticks out the most from Lipari is being chased out of what we, Dave and I, thought was an abandoned WWII military base by two black SUVs. We almost shit our pants peeling out of there. Our next trip was to Catania and the final was to the infamous Mafia stronghold of Corleone in the northwest mountains south of Palermo. Both of these trips were part of a class that I was surveying (because I actually dropped my classes when I got there) called ‘Mafia: Culture & Politics.’ Both were good, but Corleone was far better. I even stole some official documents from town hall so I could prove I was there.

Switzerland
One of the things on my ‘To Do’ list while I was in Europe was to visit my Swiss friend, Gabriel, which I managed to do at the start of October. I wore a suit for the plane ride there, not realizing how casual and laid-back most Swiss folks are. Well, Alitalia lost my luggage and all I had to wear for 2 days was that suit. The first night we went to a party in a barn where I was the center of attention and gawked at continuously, and I also ruined my gator shoes when slipped in fresh cow pie while urinating in the field. Good vacations start with a bang. We chilled for a few days then my old buddy, Iowa (Brendan), flew in from Spain. It was real treat partying with both him and Gabriel. Oktoberfest was still rocking so we made the drive to Munich with Marcus Steur and Gabriel’s girlfriend, Jena, and stayed with Gabriel’s sister for the night. I really can’t tell you much about what happened there, but man crazy shit happened. We ate then started drinking in the Hofbrau House, a traditional style touristy beer hall, and hooked up with 3 or 4 Korean chicks who were butt ugly but we didn’t care after several liters. As we were leaving Iowa gets busted trying to steal a Mass, what we call a Stein in English, and from what I can piece together from in between brown outs, things went down hill from there. The next things I remember is pissing in some park and then running for the train. At some point on the train Iowa draws attention to the fact that some creepy old dude is staring at me and rubbing his genitals, a.k.a. masturbating. I get pissed and threaten kick his ass, but he was insane and kept on smiling & rubbing, so we just move seats. The next thing I remember is Gabriel puking up his night’s worth of schnitzel and beer on the floor of the train. What a night. And I also lost my cell phone that night which ended up costing more that a thousand euros due to porno calls while roaming. The next day we drove back to Gabriel’s house in Degersheim, Switzerland and both Iowa & I flew out the following day. I landed in Sicily and fell in love with Switzerland. I knew I would be back.

Jimbo, Iowa, Gabriel, Jena

Spain
Dave and I decided to make a week trip to Spain around Halloween to see Iowa, my old buddy from university who came to Switzerland. We flew in to Valencia and took a train to Alicante the next morning. Alicante is a fairly large port city on the southern Mediterranean coast of Spain about 2 or 3 hours train ride from Valencia if my memory serves me correctly. Anyway, we get there and the festivities begin with the obligatory first beer chug then another and another and another……. We went out most nights that week, but the most memorable was probably Halloween. We got fake ‘staches and other bullshit accessories to look more like Spaniards and flaunted our newly acquired apparel around town before some little asshole kids stole Iowa’s sunglasses. I also remember being threatened a lot by people saying, ‘I hate Americans,’ and Iowa falling down on the dance floor at a club on the Explanada because he was so drunk. We also got a pony keg of Grolsch one night and rented ‘The Mothman Prophecy,’ which consequently turned into the ‘Pony Keg Prophecy’ after we finished it in a drunken haze. Good week vacation from my Sicilian vacation.

Iowa, Dave, Jimmy

With the semester winding down and the weather becoming cooler and wetter, we realized it would soon come to time part ways. I was up for about 48 hours prior to my departure spending time with new old friends. Maybe I will some of them again, but not David Tourscher. I recently got word from Laura S. that he passed away in an automobile accident. RIP Dave, you saw me through tough times in ‘Our’ Sicily.

I saw Mt. Etna shrinking beneath the plane and then it was gone. I was back in Florida.