We took this day-trip to a “village on the mountainside”. (Looks like Chris stole photos from under my pillow to make a blog post of his own!) Don’t get me wrong, Italy had been great. Sicily was great. Understand this: That day trip was it. Like the moment you fall in love. That day trip and I are BFF.
First there is this twisty-turny bus ride which takes us past the cyclops rocks and other awesome vistas. Okay, this is beautiful, I start to think. Then we get to this totally picturesque little town with its own greco-roman amphitheater. Quainter than quaint. All right, I think, This is really beautiful. The we climb this crazy hilltop to a church. Okay, it’s getting to be a little too beautiful, I think. At the very peak, some Germans (or Austrians) tell us that, you know, this doesn’t have to be the end. See that hill? Right over there? Even fucking higher than where you are now? You should go there.
That hill is Castel Mola. The Germans (or Austrians) were right.
Like some tenacious heather, Castel Mola grips the side of a cliff at seemingly impossible angles. We wind through the streets and find this church on the very edge of the world. We make it just around the side in time to see the sun setting behind Mount Etna, the active volcano. You’ve gotta be kidding me, my brain screams. It’s like someone was making fun of me things were so scenic.
