MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR APRIL 1998

ITALY

Barry and Margaret Williamson 

01 APRIL 1998 I CAMPING BAIA DE SOLE, MARINA RAGUSA

Our first Valentzas+Sally family picnic, when Audrey very kindly asked us to join their expedition to the Cava d'Ispaca, not a cave but a gorge in a limestone plateau. Dick drove us all there in his nimble Hymer, through the Baroque town of Modica, and parked near the entrance to the valley. An aged local character/ custodian appeared and showed us his old photographs and local history books, unlocked a nearby cave church (St Nicholas) with early Christian frescoes, and finally showed us his collection of old farm implements and a painted Sicilian cart. His eyes were dim with cataracts, his hands hard with callouses, but he had so much to tell us if only we could understand Italian better. He even showed us which flowers to suck for a taste of nectar. Then we walked a short way along the valley to see the traces of early occupation, from Bronze Age troglodyte dwellings and tombs to palaeo-Christian catacombs, with free entry since it is still National Culture Week.

We ambled further on the opposite bank, through tasty orange groves and along an overgrown path to a meadow, an excellent place for a substantial picnic, complete with wine. Back at the campsite we finished the day over coffee and Margaret's lemon curd cake, (which we'd figured would not travel).

We said goodbye again to our American friends, the Valentzas+Sally, and travelled along the country lanes following the coast to Gela, then on better quieter roads climbing inland through pleasant green hills to visit the Roman villa of Casale and its famous mosaic floors. Although just off a main road 4 miles from Piazza Armerina, the only access was on narrow twisting roads through the centre of this busy town. A tight hairpin turn dropping into the unknown was approached twice, from opposing sides, before it was finally taken.

Once there, we found a large car park and an immense 4thC AD villa with baths and massage rooms, probably a hunting lodge of Diocletian's co-emperor, Maximianus Herculeus. The whole thing is protected by a transparent plastic roof and good walls, giving the original size and shape of the rooms, with walkways which lead through to give excellent views of the mosaics from above. Very well done, though it must be hot in summer - today is cool and showery and just perfect for it. Almost all the floors still have colourful mosaic pavements, 40 in all covering over 37,000 sq ft, and the best preserved we've ever seen. They are described as unique in the Roman world for their extent and their quality. The baths had marine decorations, illustrations of people and servants on their way to bathe and massage scenes. The entry hall showed guests being welcomed and a long corridor had lovely medallions of animal heads. Another room showed a chariot race with 4 teams in different colours.

The floor shown on all the postcards is of young bikini-clad female athletes playing ball, a late mosaic overlying an earlier pattern which showed through in one corner. We thought the most impressive was a 200 ft long corridor showing the Great Hunting Scene: the trapping, shipping and selling of exotic wild animals for the circus games in Rome, with tigers, elephants, ostriches and even a rhino. The room with the Small Hunt is also very detailed, with stags, boar, hares and birds being pursued by hunters and dogs, while some make sacrifices to Diana in the centre and others are eating under an awning. Such was life! The huge dining room had some of the Labours of Hercules, while the children's rooms, next to those of the mistress of the house, were paved with scenes of a children's hunt and circus (tiny chariots pulled by peacocks), like a nursery carpet! The villa was in use until the 12thC AD, so the mosaics were no doubt repaired and maintained until then, when they disappeared under mud for 700 years until they were found and uncovered since the 1950's.

Rosie wove her way back through Piazza Armerina and north to join the Catania-Palermo motorway near Enna. The service station provided a good overnight stop and was very quiet once a series of school bus trips had passed through.

It's interesting that the Sicilians do visit the ancient sites and museums themselves, individual families as well as coach parties, in contrast with Greece, where they are almost exclusively the preserve of foreigners.

100 miles. Free night.

A short stretch of motorway past Enna and then a good main road took us to Agrigento, then on to the nearby coast at San Leone, where 2 campsites were open. Looking on the first we recognised the Valentzas+Sally's pitch (they were out) so settled Rosie alongside. After lunch we went into Agrigento, famous for its line of Doric temples on a ridge overlooking the sea below the acropolis. However, we had other priorities and headed for the market, where we got our first strawberries of the year from a lovely man who threw in some tangerines because he liked England! Dick & Co were delighted to see us again and we joined them at cocktail time, with some pop-corn we cooked specially for Audrey.

60 miles. £10.86 inc elec.

Another delightful picnic in the sunshine, this time among the Greek temples. Dick, Audrey and Sally drove to the car park while we followed on Alf, so that we could go on to see the town later. We all walked through the misnamed Valley of the Temples (it's a ridge), the sacred zone of the 5thC BC town of Akragas, whose acropolis is now buried beneath the medieval heart of the modern city of Agrigento. There were originally 10 temples, variously destroyed by earthquakes, the Carthaginians and anti-pagan Christian activity. The east zone is freely open and the path leads past the partly re-erected Temple of Hercules to the glorious Temple of Concord. This was converted into a Christian church in the 6th century and then restored in the 18thC, so looks more or less complete, reminding us of Paestum. Following the ancient city walls, flanking an early Christian necropolis, we finally reached the Temple of Juno/Hera, a half-ruin on the edge of the ridge with sea views, making a perfect picnic site. Some of the fallen masonry showed fire damage from the Carthaginian conquest of Akragas. What the Japanese visitors made of all this, peering nervously from under their sun-bonnets and large black umbrellas, lest they get brown, we'll never know. We can no longer capture the feeling of romantic solitude which Goethe (among other poets) must have found here a century ago.

Refreshed, we returned to leave our bags in the Hymer at the car park and entered the western zone (free this week only). The Temple of Jupiter/Jove, whose massive ruins show it was one of the largest in the Greek world, was probably never finished. A revolutionary design, the columns did not form an external colonnade but were integrated in the outside wall. Between these 66 ft high columns stood Telemones (columns in the form of 25 ft tall male figures) which helped carry the weight of the entablature as well as ornamenting the building. One has been reconstructed in the nearby museum, with a reproduction lying among the temple remains on the ground. Lower down the hill stood the Temple of the Dioscuri (Castor and Pollux), with 4 columns and a corner of the entablature re-erected in 1896 - a very familiar image of Greek Sicily, as it features on many posters and guidebooks.

Leaving the Valentzas+Sally, we rode up into the heart of medieval Agrigento, a maze of narrow stepped streets and ramshackle palazzi and churches, with occasional views over the temples and sea below. The narrow streets were so steep that the pavements were staircases and sometimes the street itself turned into steps, to Alf's alarm.

We returned to the busy little resort of San Leone, pausing for our first Italian ice cream of the season, with the usual bewildering range of flavours. We usually have 2 different balls each and taste them all!

We went to see the giant Telemon in the museum, where there were also excellent models and drawings of the temples and plenty of Greek finds, especially a collection of vases. Outside in the old church of St Nicholas a service for Palm Sunday had just ended and the well heeled and well dressed crowds were heading for lunch in San Leone. The traffic was at a standstill along the promenade and we stopped to ring mum (returned yesterday from her week in the Lakes).

The rest of the day we pottered and talked to the Valentzas+Sally.

A short drive along the main road, following the coast westwards and turning off to the sea for Eraclea Minoa, an ancient Greek site named Minoa after the King of Crete who chased Daedalus to Sicily and is said to have landed here! The city came later, 6thC BC, and has a lovely site above the sea on white cliff-tops. We saw a small theatre carved from the sandstone, the foundations of a group of houses and a tiny museum, as well as a sign warning of snakes in the grass! Undaunted, we walked a couple of miles along the cliffs to see a section of the town's walls and a look-out tower. The campsite below being closed, we spent the night on the car park in wonderful solitude.

44 miles. Free night.

Along the main coast road again, through Sciacca, home of the world's oldest known spa (the sulphur baths already famous by Roman times). After making coffee and shopping at the SMA Supermarket in Sciacca, we turned off to the sea again for Selinunte, or Ancient Selinus, the most westerly of the Greek colonies.

We had just settled in and made lunch when our ever-welcome American neighbours appeared and parked alongside. More drinks and conversation - they are all good company and our accents are starting to meet somewhere off the east coast of America. Dick is part-Greek, Audrey part-Norwegian (they are from Florida) and Sally (she is a San Franciscan) part-English, claiming descent from Jane Seymour, but there is no doubt that they are all 100% US of A.

41 miles. £8.28 inc elec & showers, with Carnet discount.

Only a mile from the campsite, behind the seaside village of Marinella, are the remains of a mighty Greek settlement founded in 628 BC and named after selinon, the wild celery plant growing all around, which was the city's emblem stamped on its coins. This was a perfect day to visit, the sun warm enough for shorts and the site a riot of colourful wild flowers, with carpets of yellow and blue splashed with patches of crimson poppies. Their scent filled the air and the birds living among the temple columns wheeled overhead. The east group of temples are in various stages of ruin, the most complete one (Temple E), with mighty columns which Sally was later to capture in sketches and watercolours, was reconstructed in 1958. There was little to see of Temple F, but nearby Temple G was a tangle of wrecked columns and we climbed among them with difficulty. The column drums, from the quarry at Cusa over 10 miles away, weighed about 100 tons each and many were unfluted, so the temple was probably destroyed by the Carthaginians before it was completed. Hannibal himself laid siege to the city in 409 BC and it only held out for 9 days, leaving 16000 dead and 5000 taken prisoner. It was rebuilt by settlers from Syracuse but fell again to the Carthaginians in the First Punic War of 250 BC. The once mighty city was reduced to a miserable village and an earthquake knocked down any remaining temples. Sic transit gloria mundi.

The Via dei Templi wound down past the buried site of the old harbour, then climbed to the main acropolis on a low spur between 2 rivers. Here were the confused remains of another 5 temples, one of which had apparently contained 2 spiral staircases - the earliest example known in the world. The metopes which survive are in Palermo museum The city streets and foundations of other buildings are extensive and good lengths of the massive, stepped walls and the north gate remain. The fortifications were built after the first destruction of the city, using stone from the wreckage, including columns, architraves, etc, and some columns had been sliced in half vertically and used to make fireproof roofs.

A kilometre further, across the little Selinus River past the site of the city's second port, were the remains of a sanctuary to Demeter Malophorus, used by funerals on their way to the necropolis. It was a hot walk in the noonday sun across sand dunes, during which we met a leathery little shepherd with his flock who presented us with a small bunch of wild asparagus. We reciprocated inadequately with Marlboro cigarettes.

Margaret cooked the asparagus with scrambled eggs for lunch while Barry and Alf shuttled Audrey and Sally to the archaeological site, Dick following on his bike.

Reading, writing and resting filled our afternoon until they returned for the ritual of 'cocktail hour' - Dick and Sally mix martinis and we take mugs of tea along! Then we'd arranged to have a meal of swordfish with spaghetti and salad cooked by Marcello (the campsite or campground owner) and his mother. Unfortunately we were joined by a boorish American pair, arrived on bicycles this morning, whom we'd spent the rest of the day trying to avoid. They destroyed the atmosphere and Sally withdrew early, but Dick finally drove them away by lighting one of his 1- hour cigars.

We used Alf to explore inland, first to Menfi which calls itself the town of wine, and we did buy some in the supermarket. It was a plain, depressing place, obviously rebuilt in haste without much charm after earthquake damage. Further up the Belice river was the far more interesting town of Santa Margherita di Belice, where 300 people were killed, when an earthquake along the river valley during the night of 15 January 1968 left hundreds more injured and thousands homeless. In the main square the Palazzo Gattopardo, famous from Lampadusa's novel 'The Leopard' (which Audrey had lent us to read), had been reduced to ruins and restoration work was still in progress. Only a corner of the adjoining Chiesa Matrice remained, the frescoes open to the elements and weeds growing from the marble niches. We drank our coffee, thinking we had seen the extent of the damage, then turned a corner to find the rubble of the old town right opposite the modern blocks of flats. The streets and houses had been left tumbling down, perhaps as a tribute to those who died? Another ruined church, split open and roofless, had been covered with a new wooden ceiling and glass walls to preserve it as a monument.

We got home in time to take a picnic lunch back to the Selinunte temples and found Sally sketching, Audrey keen to wander and Dick ready to relax. We walked with Audrey up to the acropolis via the North Gate and walls and then back along the beach, clambering over rocks round the headland and marvelling at her stamina and agility (though Dick, considering he has had 2 hip replacment operations, is also a very impressive walker and scrambler).

They had invited us to dinner tomorrow evening, which was brought forward to tonight as we'd all decided to go to the Good Friday procession. They made an excellent meal with veal escalopes, salad and spaghetti, then surprised Margaret with strawberries and a huge cake complete with candles and Audrey singing 'Happy Birthday ....' in Norwegian. Delicious almond liqueur followed and presents (a jigsaw, a painted egg, an audio-novel set in the Civil War, and a card Sally had painted of poppies). What wonderful people, we were very touched, the food and the friendship were so warm and genuine.

It's Margaret's birthday and Good Friday. We had a lazy morning and ate lunch outside in the sunshine with the Valentzas+Sally, sharing some of our Menfi wine, the jar of French pâté which Stan and Celia had given us back in Greece, toast, salad, cheeses and some more of the birthday cake spread with our lemon curd.

Then we used Alf to visit the ancient stone quarry at Rocche di Cusa, near the town of Campobello di Mazara. The only group walking there were on a botanical tour, as the area was full of wild flowers and grasses. The stones for building Selinunte were quarried here and dragged about 10 miles by slaves and oxen. It was fascinating to see some rough circular drums left scattered when the town was abandoned and there were two standing, actually cut vertically out of the rock with a circular passage just wide enough to walk and work round each. How did they slice underneath them when they were ready?

We continued into the main town of the region, Castelvetrano, to meet the Valentzas+Sally. Audrey was outside the museum, the Good Friday procession did not start till 6.30 pm, an hour later than we'd expected, and Dick and Sally were waiting in the King's Bar. We went into the little museum, with a few finds from Selinunte including a bronze statue of a boy, and also looked in the town's 19th century theatre, which had a plaque saying it was on the site of an inn where Goethe once stayed. Externally it resembled a Greek temple, inside a cosy Victorian theatre, with plush red velvet and private boxes. It made us long to go to a performance. We found the others and bought cappucinos before taking our places to witness the Good Friday Misteri procession. In Piazza Garibaldi, the handsome medieval square outside the 16th century church, 3 crosses had been erected with an effigy of Christ in the centre, guarded by men in Roman solider outfits. The square was packed for the service, which began with a figure of Mary being carried in on a platform, swaying to the rhythm of the bearers and the band. She was cloaked in black, a sword piercing her heart, and was stood at the foot of the crosses.

Then a succession of priests spoke for a total of an hour, as the sun began to set and the swallows circled overhead. The whole thing was very atmospheric and genuine - we were probably the only foreigners there. After the addresses, Christ was lifted down from the cross (the statue's arms were ingeniously hinged) and laid on white cloths in a glass-topped flower-decked coffin. Preceded by a brass band playing a dirge, the town worthies and the faithful carrying candles (some in stockinged feet), he was carried down the Via Umberto, followed by Mary borne aloft, now with tears on her cheeks. The timing was superb, as darkness fell and the wind turned chill. We didn't therefore follow the procession round the town for an eventual service in the church but headed home in the dark for some hot soup.

This was a birthday to remember, Margaret's last 40th, the celebrations completed by watching part of Alan's Elvis video showing 'Jailhouse Rock'.

In the morning we rang Alan and returned to Castelvetrano for a bank and supermarket. The crosses had been taken down and the town was bustling with shoppers in quite a different mood. At 9 am tomorrow they will all be out for the Aurora Service to celebrate the meeting of Christ Risen and Mary, with another procession, but without us.

We had a quiet afternoon (the Valentzas+Sally having gone off to see the Cusa quarry and the earthquake towns) and did some writing and dhobi (our first washing machine in Sicily!) The campsite has become quite busy, with French, Swiss and Germans out for Easter. A German pair had unusually come anti-clockwise round the island so we had a good information exchange on which campsites are open - many stay closed till May or June.

In the evening Marcello, our host, musician and radio ham, lit a bonfire of vine-wood and cooked a pile of globe artichokes which had been marinated in olive oil and salt, spreading them out on the embers until the outer leaves were burnt and the hearts tender. It was a fine night with a full moon and we sat round nibbling them with bread (bring or buy your own wine), then went inside as the fire died to watch Marcello perform on the keyboard and guitar. His friend, who strongly resembled Fidel Castro (beard and all), played drums. It carried on past midnight, when we slipped away to bed.

Rain showers deterred us from moving on and we had a day on the site. Marcello had a hard-boiled egg for each camper, with a greeting written on in the appropriate language (ours said 'Good Easter'). We watched the Pope blessing the crowds in St Peter's Square and other Easter Sunday ceremonies on the TV, then had the Valentzas+Sally in for an afternoon of videos, tea and bran loaf. (The film about New York cycle messengers followed by Elvis in 'Love Me Tender'.)

Marcello's mama came round with an Easter gift for each of us: a small basket of fruit from the garden (lemons, tangerines and loquats - small Chinese fruit with pretty pearly brown stones inside which are common trees here). Before leaving the town we ran the Valentzas+Sally down to the Selinunte temples and were surprised at how busy it was - it is, of course, Easter Monday and a fine day.

We drove the short length of motorway from Castelvetrano to Mazara, then on the main Trapani road. We needed diesel and the only station open was an unstaffed self-service one with a machine for bank notes (often called 'Self-Center' after Italian motorists). We persuaded it to work on a 50,000 lire note (3,000 = £1) but then had difficulty getting the diesel into the tank as it kept foaming back, a problem we'd had once before in Greece. Barry filled our 10 litre can and was still trying to get some into Rosie's tank when the pump cut off (there's a 6 minute time limit for safety). With only 18 litres in the tank and 10 in the can, we lost nearly half the money. We were annoyed and concerned as to whether the problem lay with Rosie or the pump. We were to find out.

The main road bypassed Marsala, then rejoined the Palermo motorway. We turned off for ancient Segesta, but the small car park near the temple was too full to consider getting in, let alone camping there. After a lunch break we continued with a back wind and a light right foot, still short of diesel, to the north coast at Castellammare and then a few miles west to Scopello, on a bay near the entrance to the Zingaro Nature Reserve, Sicily's earliest national park. The road, beach and campsite were busy with Easter holiday-makers but we hoped (correctly) that most would be gone tomorrow.

96 miles. £10.00 inc elec & showers, with Carnet discount.

We cycled to the entrance to the Zingaro Park, 4 miles away, and bought a map from the warden. We found that it's not possible to cycle in the reserve, where there is a 4-mile clifftop path or mountain hikes, so, as we weren't shod for walking, we returned via the little cobbled village of Scopello.

After lunch we rode into Castellammare, a fishing harbour, to shop. Then Barry worked on the diesel tank and found the breather pipe full of diesel. Was this the problem? Time will tell. The investigations involved crawling underneath, disconnecting pipes and getting splattered with diesel including a mouthful. Margaret tried to take the taste away by making a trifle, using the remnants of the birthday cake.

The day opened fine and warm but very windy. Saving the Zingaro walk for a calmer day, we rode Alf to the medieval citadel of Erice, set on a 2500 ft hill-top above the sea, on the site of the ancient city of Eryx, claiming Trojan descent. It was mentioned by both Homer and Virgil (who writes that Aeneas, Trojan leader and son of Aphrodite, founded the temple of Aphrodite/Venus here) and visited by Daedelus and Hercules - like a Who's Who of Greek mythology. Within the town walls the tortuous narrow cobbled alleys led to inward-facing courtyards, protecting the inhabitants from the wind but not from their enemies - Carthaginian, Roman, Arab and Norman forces all took the town. We looked in the 13thC cathedral, impressively marble-cold, with a separate campanile/look-out tower, and walked up to the ruins of the Norman Castle, on the site of the early shrine of Venus Ericina, whose temple was rebuilt by the Romans. The stone was later used in both castle and cathedral. The views from the ramparts extended over Trapani and the Egadi Islands but it wasn't clear enough to see Tunisia today. We did see the Valentzas' Hymer in the carpark, but there was no sign of them, so we hoped to meet eventually on the campsite.

We descended and found a windy cross-country route to Segesta, since Alf is too small to be allowed on Italian motorways. Pausing for a picnic lunch, we arrived at the temple car park just in time to meet the Valentzas+Sally about to buy their tickets! So we had their company again while we surveyed the glorious temple, set in splendid isolation on a green hillside outside the barely uncovered Greek city of Egesta (sic). The perfect Doric temple, shown on Sicilian ancient site entrance tickets, looks complete from a distance, all its 36 white columns in place with no signs of earthquake damage, entablature and pediment intact, but it is in fact roofless and empty. It was never finished, the columns are not fluted and the stones of the pediment still have their stone studs (used in building and only removed when the temple is complete). Started in 424 BC, it was abandoned 8 years later after disputes with Selinus. The other excavated remains, including a small 3rdC BC theatre, were on the top of a higher hill, Monte Barbaro, and we took a minibus up. It lurched its way for a mile round the bends to the theatre and some medieval ruins, with a good view of the temple below and across to the Gulf of Castellammare. It was an easy walk down, stopping to look at the excavations of the city walls and gates, with short cuts through the swathes of wild fennel, marigolds and other flowers.

By the time we reached the bottom Audrey had persuaded Dick to join us at Scopello for the 'nature walk' tomorrow, so we had American neighbours on the campsite again and enjoyed good conversation during and beyond another 'cocktail hour'.

The wind has dropped, the night's rain has ceased, and Dick drove all of us to the entrance to the Riserva Naturale dello Zingaro to walk and picnic. We followed the beautiful cliff-top path, which had occasional tracks down to a rocky beach or leading off high into the hills. In the early 1980's local protest had prevented the completion of a road round the headland and for a stretch of almost 5 miles there is just this footpath, with a car park at each end and no development. There was plenty of colour for the botanist, though the only animal life we saw was seagulls and little bright green lizards which sunbathe on the rocks and dart away as you approach. We stopped for lunch shortly before the Great Cave, about 2 miles from the end of the route. Dick and Sally turned back at the cave while Audrey continued with us to the end. The return walk passed quickly, the sun kept shining and by 5 pm we were all in the Hymer enjoying coffee and a box of cakes which Dick had bought in Erice. What more can life offer?

Back at the campsite, we rounded off a splendid day by introducing Audrey to John Lennon's 'Imagine', the subject of a small part of our long ambulatory discussions (Aristotle would have approved). After the song Dick asked 'Who was that?' - 'John Lennon' - 'Oh really'! What a wonderful guy; no-one can say 'Oh really' the way he does!

The wind is strong again, causing all kinds of electrical problems. Barry had to fix the video recorder, which had blown a fuse due to a surge of current, and the microwave clock, which had continued to work after the oven ceased functioning, has finally stopped. Dick also has problems with his fridge and the campsite showers are no longer hot. But we are getting away lightly, as we hear of serious floods in central and southern England and heavy snow in northern Italy. The TV news showed the traffic returning to Milan after the Easter break driving through snow drifts and it was even falling in Venice.

The Valentzas+Sally left for Palermo, where we may join them tomorrow, but first we wanted to cycle in the hills behind Scopello. We climbed 5 hard miles into the wind to the tiny village of Castello di Baida, whose 12th century castle walls now enclose a farmyard, then returned via Balata di Baida. The wind was too much to go further, but we enjoyed the ride in this quiet north-western corner of Sicily.

We had an afternoon of reading and writing and this diary is at last up to date!

An easy drive along the motorway, taking the last turnoff before Palermo to this seaside resort. We stopped for more diesel but had the same problem with the tank, despite all B's work clearing the breather pipe. Barry took over the pump and managed to get 25 litres in, very very slowly. The Valentzas+Sally, who were out seeing Palermo, had reserved us a pitch next to them and we settled onto a friendly well-kept site, which gave a 10% discount for the Camping Carnet and another 10% for the Network Italian scheme, making this our best price on Siclly, though it doesn't include hot showers.

After lunch we did some cleaning and dhobi and talked to a German who was in a 'Flair' motorhome with a dozen satellite dishes arranged outside. He had the splendid job of working for 'Promobil', the German monthly motorhome magazine, and the 'Flair' was one of their test fleet. He and his colleague were reporting on satellite reception around Europe. He gave us 3 magazines, satellite advice and a tour of the 'Flair' before leaving for tonight's ferry to Genoa and on to Spain.

At this point Dick returned complete with lamb chops he wanted to cook for us all this evening. Margaret did some popcorn ready for cocktail hour and cooked jacket potatoes and lemony pudding. Dick bought a bag of charcoal and used the campsite barbecue for the lamb and produced an excellent Caesar salad. What a feast, taken inside Rosie with plenty of wine. We all enjoy our food!

40 miles. £8.27 inc elec, with discounts.

We cycled along the seafront, high waves splashing over, and round the town, getting our bearings and a little exercise. The sun is bright and warm out of the wind but we're glad we're not on a ferry.

After lunch Barry made another attempt on the diesel filling problem and fitted an extra bolt on Alf's rear box (hoping to deter the thieves we've been warned of in Palermo). Buying the first of several 10 litre cans of diesel, B tried and failed to get the liquid to do more than creep into the tank. Margaret was reading, writing, mending and cooking.

The Valentzas+Sally joined us in the evening to watch 'Forest Gump', one of mum's Christmas videos, starring Tom Hanks. We all enjoyed it immensely, the story was funny and moving and surprisingly topical, reflecting the recent decades of American history, with its changing presidents, assassinations and popular music.

Alf braved the 10 mile run into and around Palermo. First we had to find 2 places which the campsite owner suggested might help with our diesel tank problem. A caravan and campervan centre, which Dick also visited to look at his fridge, .was no help to either of us, and the Ford agent was just a small place for servicing cars. We got glimpses of historic Palermo's walls, gates and cathedrals in a swirl of traffic, but its charms were not immediately apparent.

It was less congested on the waterfront where we found the ferry terminal, checked the times and prices for Sardinia and the mainland and had our flask of coffee. Then Barry negotiated the one-way system again to find the central post office (an overwhelming building from Mussolini's time), where all our mail from mum and Alan awaited, free of charge - a nice surprise.

Back to the campsite for a late lunch, after which Margaret went through all the post and had a second birthday with cards and mum's presents. The ink for the printer was in Alan's packet but no credit or bank cards, which meant phone calls to the Huddersfield and Jersey branches, as well as to mum, all using the BT chargecard. Barry used it too to talk to 3 workshops in the UK specialising in US motorhomes to get advice on Rosie's diesel problem. 2 said the problem couldn't happen; the 3rd suggested a line of enquiry. Following this line, Barry finally discovered what the problem was: a one-way anti-siphoning valve inside the tank is sticking, perhaps through standing still with a low fuel level for too long, and he managed to poke it free with a length of hose. Good work.

We were about to order a campsite chicken and chips for supper when the Valentzas+Sally arrived back from their day at Monreale with a parcel of swordfish they'd bought at the market and asked if we'd like to share another barbecue. The fish was expensive (£16 for the amount they'd got for us all) but was certainly thick and succulent, much better than the slices we'd eaten at Selinunte. Dick marinated it in olive oil, white wine and garlic and cooked it to perfection on the char-grill. We did rice, carrots and broccoli and Rosie hosted the feast, with chocolate cornflake crispies to follow.

The Valentzas+Sally went back into Palermo, using the buses, while we spent a warm sunny day on the campsite. We wrote to Midland Huddersfield about the credit cards, and to Jersey about PEPS, and read and filed all the mail. MMM would like to make a series from 'A Full-time Life at Home on the Road' so it will need more work and photographs. We printed and photocopied the March diary to send to mum. Later we had campsite chicken and chips (we appeared to be sharing 2 chickens with 5 legs) in Rosie's Diner and watched another video from our collection: 'Go Tell the Spartans', set in Vietnam, starring Burt Lancaster.

Alf found his way into Palermo again and we worked our way through a shopping list. Barry needed one or two tools, electrical bits and some flexible wire to poke down Rosie's diesel filler, some of which we managed to track down before everything closed for lunch. Margaret's items were easier to find and we had fun buying fruit and vegetables at the end of a street market stretching for a couple of miles along the narrow Via Bandiera, its atmosphere half-way to an Arab bazaar.

Back home Barry fetched more diesel from the nearby filling station, where the guy now knows him well enough to include Italian lessons, and poured it into Rosie's tank without difficulty. The new length of wire, bought today, should solve the problem of the sticking valve if it recurs, so we hope to have no more trouble getting fuel in. We felt confident enough to book ferry tickets to Sardinia for Saturday week (Tirrenia Line, 13 hours overnight Palermo-Cagliari, at £166), via the campsite receptionist with a travel agent in nearby Capaci. We were lucky to get the last 1st class cabin (2nd class sold out).

Later we enjoyed the company of Dick, Audrey and Sally for another video, this time a full length 'Inspector Morse'. They did know him from TV in the States but were surprised by the commercials - both that they interrupt the programmes and that 'hard liquor' is advertised, as only wine and beer ads are allowed in the US.

We had to collect the ferry tickets by noon and get supplies at the local supermarket. After lunch Margaret wrote to mum and we went on the beach with Dick in search of driftwood for tonight's fire. We were glad he'd bought some tuna fish at the quayside and wasn't planning on cooking octopus, squid or cuttlefish, which we saw the local lads catching!

The char-grilled tuna was delicious, with rice, courgettes and salad, followed by Margaret's apple sponge meringue. What a wonderful way to cook - we are becoming barbecue converts, especially as we don't have a grill.

Barry did some good work repairing the shower rooflight cover, a victim of a low branch on the campsite back at Agrigento. He also made a new cover for the outside light (blown away in a gale) and serviced all the rooflights. Margaret gave the cooker its annual clean and overhaul.

After lunch we worked on the April diary and relaxed. Dick did a magnificent job of cooking the rack of lamb over the barbecue, well marinated with plenty of garlic and fresh rosemary we'd picked. We hosted another feast, complete with Margaret's roast potatoes, Sally's ratatouille, Audrey's salad, the rest of the apple sponge meringue and, of course, plenty of local red wine. How we shall miss these American friends with their meals, their company and their conversation.

In which we visit Palermo Museum and enjoy our last evening with the Valentzas

Today is a public holiday - Liberazione di 1945 - with some shops closed. We were in Palermo before the photographer's opened at 10 am, to collect a film and make some photocopies (we wanted extracts from our recent diary to give to Dick/Audrey and to Sally when they leave tomorrow). We rode on to the docks, where the Stazione Marittima has the best (if not the only) public toilets we know in Palermo, and a nice place to sit with a flask of coffee looking at the ferries. Then to the Archaeological Museum, housed in a 16thC 3-storey convent tucked behind the main post office. Our leaflet claimed it was open till 2 pm Saturdays, the brass plate said 1.30 pm and the man selling tickets displayed a handwritten sign insisting on 1.15 pm, which was just long enough. This museum was not up to the standard of the others we'd visited in Sicily, the exhibits poorly labelled in Italian and arranged in glass cases, devoid of context. The main attraction, the metopes (sculpted frieze panels) from the 6th and 5thC BC Greek temples at Selinunte, were superb and housed in a room of their own. Those from Temple C were the most complete, showing mythological scenes like Athene protecting Perseus as he beheads the Gorgon Medusa with his sword, and Herakles punishing the Cercopes dwarves (holding one in each hand, upside down). Those from Temple E showed Herakles fighting an Amazon and the wedding of Zeus and Hera.

They were displayed without any imagination, though, devoid of photographs, maps or plans of the splendid site to inspire those who had not seen it. The other finds of interest were Phoenician sarcophagi (very Egyptian-looking) and a black slab inscribed with Phoenician hieroglyphics known as the Palermo Stone. On the first floor the famous bronze ram from Syracuse was out on loan; on the second the plaster casts of neolithic cave drawings from Mount Pellegrino were surreal.

Back to the campsite for a late lunch, then Margaret rang to ask Alan to look out for our new credit cards in the post and to send them to Olbia, Sardinia. She also rang Brownhills to order some water purifying tablets, since they cost 3 or 4 times as much here (where they are needed)! Dick was sending and collecting his E-mail messages through the helpful quadrilingual receptionist, the amazing Daniella, and Barry took photographs of the procedure to illustrate the point for his 'Full Time Life: At Home on the Road' articles.

Sadly, we had our final meal with the Valentzas+Sally in Rosie's Diner. Tonight the chef's special was pork chops with mixed vegetables and sauerkraut, while Margaret (queen of puddings) served pineapple upside down cake with custard, specially for Sally who had no idea what we meant by an English sponge-&-custard type pudding. She was not disappointed, though Dick was by Audrey's firm refusal to take the recipe on the grounds of keeping their weight within limits! Tomorrow they must head towards Messina, where Sally will catch a train to Rome for her plane home. The Valentzas plan to leave the Hymer at our Pineta al Mare site near Brindisi and go Greek Island Hopping for a month. We do hope to meet again, if not in September (when they promise to be at the Bois de Boulogne Paris site) then some day down the road in the US of A!

After the farewells to our American friends, which left Sally in tears, we felt lonely and went for a walk round the little town and seafront. We discovered a medieval tower being reconstructed opposite another on the tiny offshore island, and found the railway station. We investigated the possibility of taking the bicycles on the train to Milazzo, to spend a couple of days cycling on the volcanic Aeolian Islands, but decided against the expedition as the timing and cost were not encouraging and the weather is still unsettled and windy.

After lunch we did a few jobs, dhobi, etc and looked fondly at the mementoes of our recent friendship - the driftwood chopped ready by the barbecue, the broken camp chair by the bins (Barry had mended a lounger for them, but this was beyond repair), and Dick's last cigar end (or 'old stogey'). Sally and Audrey had vowed to give up cigarettes from today, again ...?

Alf is getting used to the Palermo traffic and found his way for 10 busy miles into the centre, emerging from Via Goethe onto the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, the main thoroughfare running straight from the waterfront to the Porta Nuova, the triumphal arch built in 1533 by Charles V to commemorate his victory over the Infidels (4 Saracens bearing the transept). Another 5 miles inland lies Monreale, on the slopes of Mount Caputo looking across the Conca d'Oro Plain to Palermo and the sea. The town grew up round the Benedictine Abbey built in just 12 years from 1174-86 for the Norman King, William II, which surpassed the splendour of the Palatine Chapel in Palermo and the Cathedral at Cefalu, built by his predecessors Roger II and William I. He died young in 1189, the last of his dynasty, and rests in a white marble sarcophagus in the apse, along with his father William I, brought here from Cefalu. The complex of Cathedral, Cloisters and Terrace Gardens is superb, if less than peaceful today.

The Duomo, with twin square towers, looks severe from the outside but the interior is rich in multi-coloured marble and paintings and, above all, its famous mosaics, beautifully coloured and gleaming with gold: 'the most impressive and extensive Christian medieval mosaics in the world, a magnificent fusion of Byzantine culture, Arabian architecture and Norman synergy', to quote the guidebooks. There are over 130 panels of mosaics covering the vaults and walls, the light from the many windows playing on the sumptuous gold background to dazzling effect. Two tiers of pictures run above the Roman granite columns of the nave, illustrating the Old Testament from the creation to Abraham; the transept has 18 scenes showing the cycle of Christ's birth, miracles and crucifixion from the New Testament. Most striking of all is the traditional Byzantine mosaic of Christ Pantocrator above the central apse, a colossal half-length figure, giving the blessing with his right hand and holding an open book in his left, with the text in both Greek and Latin - 'I am the light of the world, who follows me does not walk in darkness'. Below him is Mary, flanked by the archangels, apostles and evangelists.

We took a coffee break in the terrace gardens, planted with exotic trees and looking out over the plain, then looked at the adjoining cloisters (for which Margaret had to pay, though the cathedral, as a working church, was free). The cloisters are noted for the 228 twin columns supporting pointed Gothic arches, forming an arcade round a quadrangle garden. Many of the columns are inlaid with multi-coloured marquetry in a variety of patterns and with remarkable carved capitals, all different. An ornate fountain in a corner was used as a lavabo by the monks.

After a late lunch back at the campsite we cycled out to do some shopping though the 2 local stores stock only basic Italian needs (ie more varieties of pasta than we knew existed, but neither porridge oats nor brown bread).

A domestic morning of dhobi and jobs, especially removing and re-sealing the air-con unit on the roof, which was leaking after last night's heavy rain. Daniella warned us that 24 German outfits would arrive this evening.

After lunch we made a shopping expedition to a hypermarket, on the Palermo road beyond the next village of Sferracavallo, which had everything we need except oats. Sunday mornings will not be the same without porridge! On the way back we checked Camping degli Ulivi at Sferracavallo, in case the German invasion proved too intrusive, but access to the site through the town centre looked awkward. The Germans were in fact pitched in the upper field, where another toilet block was opened for them, so we chose to stay, but it's a sign of things to come. We hope Sardinia/Corsica will be quieter, or we'll be tempted to retreat to Greece.

A 150-mile day out on Alf, exploring eastwards along the coast as far as Cefalu. We took a quieter route into Palermo, keeping to the coast through Mondello, then out round Cape Zafferano and up to ancient Soluntum, on a promontory 700 ft above the sea, 12 miles from Palermo at Porticello. It was a stiff climb on foot, past the brand new museum, its cases still waiting to be filled, to the site of a Phoenician/Roman city complete with streets and the foundations of a forum, shops, houses, cisterns, and a small crumbling theatre.

About 10 miles further at Termini Imerese we had our picnic lunch, sitting on the clifftops with a view of the curving coastline as far as the headland at Cefalu. Termini was a Graeco-Roman spa but the ancient baths lie under a modern hotel and there was only a fragmentary amphitheatre to be seen. After another 10 miles we turned down a lane to the shore to check out a campsite which had been recommended to us as an overwintering hole, but it was locked and abandoned.

We continued past the site of the Greek Victory temple at Himera, whose 56 lion's head water spouts have been reconstructed in Palermo museum, adjoining the Selinunte room. The Victory was that of 480 BC over the Carthaginians but Hannibal took revenge 70 years later, destroying the town for all time.

It was still warm and sunny when we reached Cefalu, once a small fishing port wedged steeply betwen the sea and the rocky promontory behind, now a major tourist attraction with its Norman cathedral and Club Med complex! We wound our way down the maze of narrow alleyways to the harbour and sat soaking up the sun and eating icecream, watching a young man catch a small octopus off the quayside. He even asked us for a plastic bag to put it in as it kept trying pitifully to sidle off. We walked part-way up the limestone Rocca for a view over the town and paid the obligatory visit to the cathedral, founded by Roger II on the site of an earlier Paleo-christian basilica, and continued under William I, taking nearly a century to complete (1131-1240). Again a mighty mosaic of Christ Pantocrator dominates the central apse, 40 years earlier than that at Monreale and truly Byzantine in style, the vaulting below covered with beautiful mosaics on a gilded background of Mary, archangels, prophets and apostles. Probably Roger intended to decorate the entire interior with mosaics but he died in 1154. An adjoining Augustinian Convent was burnt down in the 14thC and the cloisters still await restoration.

The ride back took over 2 hours, with one petrol stop, and we were satisfied that we'd seen the best of Sicily's north coast.

While Barry did some external maintenance and window cleaning, Margaret walked to the local street market, buying a kilo of strawberries for jam and a pair of pyjamas decorated with teddy bears! 'Per bambini?' 'No, per me!'

After lunch we boiled the fruit and sugar into submission and got 3½ lb of jam which did its best to set without Certo. The strawberries cost 4000 per kilo (£1.38), making the jam more economical, and infinitely tastier, than the stuff we bought at a Greek Eurospar when our excellent Turkish plum jam ran out.

We ordered another campsite chicken & chips for supper (good value, giving us 2 dinners plus a sandwich lunch) and made an apple and raisin crumble pie. On TV Raiuno showed 'Schindler's List', which kept us enthralled until midnight. We were able to follow it, despite the Italian dubbing, as Barry knew the book. We must re-visit Cracow later this summer.