Killing Catania and Seeing Sicily
Trip Start
Feb 05, 2009
1
34
45
Trip End
Jul 10, 2009
Catania, Sicily, Italy
Saturday, April 25, 2009
We woke up, ate the pancakes I had hurriedly fried up and headed downstairs to Alex's car. Edwin had just woken up and walked out, and asked me who was taking us to the stadium. I told him Alex and walked on. Moments later I heard him shout, "Hey Erioldi, after you take them can you come back and get me?" What a selfish prick. Yes that's exactly what Alex wanted to do, double back to get Edwin with no prior notice. In the car I apologized on behalf of my roommate.
I knocked out on the bus to Verona and found myself along with the rest of the team, at the Verona airport. Traveling with a team half the size of CU's travel squad expedites things dramatically. Or maybe we were just better organized. No matter, we were on the flight in no time. I spent some of the flight reading then maybe 20 minutes milling up and down the isles speaking to various teammates without getting hassled one bit by any plane personnel.
We landed and ate, then I went to the bathroom while everyone else went to the bus unbeknownst to me. I walked up to find the restaurant devoid of Giants and then ran back to where the bus was waiting outside the airport. Apparently when I turned up missing, Lauren got grilled as to where I was, and while everyone panicked and yelled, "where is the quarterback," I assume Lauren yawned a took a nap. We drove 15 minutes to a nice large grass field and carried our gear into the locker room. The kickoff was bumped back a half-hour, so we had plenty of time to get ready. I finally got out of the locker room and then talked to the Americans from Catantia for ten minutes and a couple coaches before Tisma gruffly told me to go warm up.
Mike went through the running plays with Reggie while I threw. Afterward he told me, that he had no legs. It was a tough spot for him to be in, but he was here, getting a chance to play football, and that's all that matters. During stretching I was next to Pasquale who was suited up. He hadn't gotten the shoulder harness yet, and I was sure his shoulder was not ready. I told him he should not be playing but he said that he just wanted to test it out. I wasn't happy about that, but I can't make decisions for him.
We kicked off and on the first play from scrimmage Pasquale flows out from the middle and blasts a receiver trying to cut inside after catching a middle screen and forces a fumble. I'm thinking Pasquale, you idiot great play. The first couple series it seemed if Squale was in on just about every tackle, the guy is a heck of a linebacker.
Our offense came out, and on first down we tried to run right and Mike had nowhere to go and got dropped for a one-yard loss. Welcome to the IFL. We strung together a nice little drive, Mike broke a 20 yard run but got hawked at the two, were ordinarily he would have got in the zone easily. Tisma called a quarterback sneak and I found my way in the end zone.
After a three and out our next series, we had the ball again.
I hit Marco on a 10 yard out that he turned into a 30-yard gain and he probably would have scored if he weren't dealing with hamstring issues, so he slowed up at the 10 and was knocked out at the 5. Next play I handed it to Mike who cut back weaved past a couple defenders and got in the zone. 14-0 Giants on two rushing touchdowns by D-III Chapman alums. Crazy.
Catania scored to make it a game 14-7. They got the ball back and drove to our ten before Juliana forced a fumbled on botched option play and the Federico our free safety scooped it up and took it 90 yards the other way that ultimately sealed the fate of Catania.
What was even crazier than Mike and I playing together in the same backfield was after Pasquale re-separated his shoulder, and had to leave the game, probably for the last time this season, and maybe in his career, and Paulo our defensive lineman got hurt on the same play, suddenly Mike and I were both playing defense together. I was playing right cornerback, while Mike chose to play outside linebacker over safety.
Our next offensive possession I picked apart Catania's defense with some quick passes, a screen to Mike, and finally threw a 4 yard touchdown pass to Beppe.
Later in the quarter we were driving with two minutes left until I missed my chance to hit the slant early and instead tried to loft it deep and late and over the middle. Late and over the middle, two words that you never want describing your pass. The safety drifted back, high pointed the football and intercepted it at the Catania 10 yard line where he was tackled.
The next play for Catania they lined up in trips away from me, we rolled our coverage to the three receivers, leaving me one on one on the backside. The same thing happened a couple series earlier when I jumped in the game for Ciba for a play and they threw a quick hitch.
I had a feeling that they'd try the same thing again, and so I wanted to gamble and jump the 5-yard hitch. I read the quarterbacks quick drop, and broke on the hitch, that did indeed develop in front of me. I didn't get the jump I wanted, but the ball didn't get out as quickly as it should have and was thrown slightly up the field. I brushed past the receiver and started to reach out to catch the ball with my hands then instead just bear hugged it against my chest, and was headed 15 yards back the other way, jubilantly into the end zone.
I kicked the next kickoff into the end zone with the help of a little wind and the adrenaline from my first career interception and first career interception return for a touchdown.
With a minute left in the half Catania was still trying to move the ball. Mike nearly intercepted a pass, but it was knocked out off his hands, then a couple plays later they tried a screen but the quarterback threw it to Edwin who picked up a couple of blocks and rumbled 20 yards into the end zone.
Suddenly we went into halftime up 42-7.
Ciba returned a interception for a touchdown in the third quarter but our offense struggle. Mainly because of the play of our quarterback, with a few contributing factors but for a quarter Catania's heavy blitzing kept us out of the end zone. The fourth quarter was marginally better, but still not great. I managed a late touchdown pass to Mario and Mike broke a nice run after catching a swing pass.
I am still missing 2-5 throws a game that I shouldn't be missing, or rather have to make.
I talked to the American receiver after the game, he asked if I was staying and invited me to his house for a party later that night. We exchanged number then I slowly changed. On the way out to the bus, I stopped by a group of Catania guys and asked what the best way to get to Catania's center was, they were very nice and even offered to drive us. Mike and I threw our bags on the bus and then went to Tisma. A couple days earlier I had tried to explain to him that Mike needed a ticket back Tuesday morning and that I had already purchased my ticket back to Bolzano for Thursday morning. Instead he booked Mike back with the rest of the team and got me a ticket for Tuesday morning. Mike hesitantly said, "well I guess I'm headed back now," but then we decided that we could find a ticket for him Tuesday morning.
We said goodbye to the team and jumped in the car with the Catania players. They stopped off at a bar with a bunch of other Catania players and we ate the local fare, a type of calzone with and arrancinis, which are fried rice balls with meat and cheese inside. They were both delicious. Upon getting to the bar, we also realized that Coach Franco still had our passports and I left my wallet in my football bag though I did have some cash on me. I frantically called guys on the team trying to figure out how to retrieve our passports. We had a beer and then waited for the bill but it never came. Our ride was getting ready to leave, so I asked about the bill a couple players shook their heads, smiled and said welcome to Sicily. They were very nice guys.
Greg, a 26-year-old wide receiver who spoke very good English navigated the city and took us downtown while a teammate fed him directions to our hostel from the passenger seat. Additionally they had a teammate that was taking Pasquale and Paulo to the airport who grabbed our passports and was going to meet up with us. On the drive it was apparent how much more loosely regulated traffic laws were in Sicily in comparison to Bolzano. No one bothered with seatbelts and the scooter drivers rarely wore helmets. Greg parked outside a square by our hostel and said he'd help me find the B&B we were staying at. Lauren had written down the address, so Greg asked a couple officers and we started walking. We talked about the difference in our teams, the practice schedule, as well as why Catania was having such a down year.
We found the street and he pointed to the address of our place, #26 and then we walked back to the car, unloaded our stuff and said goodbye.
Lauren and I walked to check in while Mike waited at the square for the other Catania player to bring our passports.
At building #26 we searched the call list of names for Porto Carlos B&B but found nothing. We check the surrounding buildings, looked for signs but found nothing. We showed the paper with the address and of our B&B to the store next door and they just walked us back to #26 and then found nothing. I called but TIM Mobile told me the number didn't exist. I thought we had been hustled.
Frustrated we walked back and got Mike who had our passports but also realized his phone slipped out of his pocket in Greg's car. These guys were going to think we were the most moronic Americans they'd ever met.
We wandered the streets, very tired and sore from the game, especially Mike who limped slowly after us. Finally as darkness set in we decided to go to an internet café and find a new hostel. Lauren checked the one we'd booked again and gave me an alternative number to call. We were very, very tired and frustrated at this point.
An Italian woman answered the phone and I asked if it was Porto Carlo B&B. She said yes then told me to hold on and handed the phone to an English speaking man. He asked where we were and I told him we'd be downstairs in a couple minutes, and then asked what name we were supposed to buzz. We paid our tab at the café, then walked two blocks back to #26 and a late forty's Italian male with long hair was waiting holding the door open. He welcomed us in, and we slowly and painfully trudged up 5 flights of open-air marble stairs and he welcomed us into a beautiful spacious two-story apartment. His wife ran all over speaking mostly in Italiano making our beds and pulling out an extra bed for Mike. They showed us around the upstairs, told us to make ourselves at home then went to bed.
We walked out onto their unbelievable deck that overlooked the city, had views of the Duomo and in the distance, the Volcano. It was an amazing place. We sat down and discussed our plan when Tavar, the American receiver called me about the party. I told him we'd try and get up to his place and meant it, but really I knew between Mike's state of exhaustion and having to try and catch a bus or a cab we probably would just call it an early night. Greg had told us around our B&B would be cracking to because it was a national holiday, Italy's independence from fascism. But in the end we just knocked out and woke up early the next morning and went upstairs for a very good breakfast that featured and abundance of toast, with numerous pastes, jams, spreads, and cheese to put on top. And we consumed a large quantity of coffee/ café. By the time it was done we were all pretty wired. We got directions to the bus station, asked if we could stay again on Monday night, and then headed up to Toaromino.
First however we tried to get Mike's ticket figured out. We went to the airport and found the Wind Jet counter but my ticket was non transferable and non refundable so Mike had to buy a new ticket for the same flight Tuesday morning, and I had a ticket that would go unused. We bought bus tickets at the airport bus station and took a 90-minute ride up to Toaromino.
The weather had not cooperated with us for the majority of Laurens trip and Sicily was no exception. It was gray and overcast, jean and sweatshirt weather. The only thing hot was the bus ride sans air conditioning out to Toaramino.
Toaramino has two parts, the older town sits high above the beach, and you can take a bus or a quick and scenic cable car down to the newer section of beachfront hotels, restaurants, and shops. We wandered into town, and my calls to our preferred hostel went unanswered. We were on our way to hostel number two when an elderly woman in a red polyester suit jacket thing stopped us and asked if we spoke Italiano. Naturally I said yes, fluently (that wasn't really my response). We talked understanding very little of what each other was saying, but ultimately she was telling me she had rooms for 30 euros a person just around the corner. I wanted 25 a person and we eventually settled on 80 total. She walked us to our quarters and then said a number of things to me in Italian and I understood very little but nodded and said that I understood, frequently. We got all the details of our stay worked out, Lauren and I shared a room with a queen bed, while Mike had a small room across the hall with a single bed. We were just glad to find a place quickly and dump our bags. We headed to a local pizzeria for a fantastic slice of pizza before getting a bottle of wine and heading to the cable car. We timed it perfectly, there were four pods, and we jumped in the last one with no supervision or warning signs anywhere. The cable didn't even come to a stop. Europe blows me away. We eventually found our way to the water, hopped a railing and climbed out on and outcropping of volcanic rock. We drank wine overlooking the water and told stories until the bottle was gone and a sparse rain started falling. Mike being a southern California kid, got a bit panicky and so we climbed back to the beach, making grand plans to go cliff jumping into the Mediterranean assuming the weather was ok the next day.
We ended up at a more famous beach cove, one Lauren recognized from guidebook pictures, hung out and enjoyed some more vino while we watched an Italian couple move in to our right and unabashedly make out.
We started to walk back up a considerably large set of stairs, something Mike was not excited about when we decided to eat at one of the beachside restaurants. We all ordered food and somehow Laurens chicken steak looking piece of fish was set down in front of me and I took a bite. It wasn't bad but it was fish so we quickly exchanged meals. Mike had gotten something similar to flank steak, I had a deep fried steak and the calamari they ordered never came. We polished off some mediocre tiramisu, paid the bill and headed back up the cable to call it a night.
Monday
We woke up to what reminded me of an ugly San Diego morning, everything was gray and cold. We wandered the town looking for a suitable place to get a café. I vetoed the first place disgusted that they were charging 2 euro cafes, Lauren and Mike passed on the next place saying it was too trendy (it was too trendy), and with a caffeine deprive Mike declaring that a café is a café we sat down not far from the viewing ledge in the center of town. We ordered two café's and a hot chocolate and our waiter brought them out with the bill. 8.40 for two café's and 5.60 for my drink. I almost feinted. I called the waiter over asking him if that was right and he said yes. We should have just walked out, but we didn't and I don't know if I'll ever get over my disgust. Ridiculous. We got hustled. Mike and Lauren were talking about getting breakfast there but after seeing the tab; decided we should search for cheaper pastures.
We wandered for a bit then found a place that served 5-euro ham and cheese omelets and ate there. We read for a while then decided the weather made the beach and cliff jumping very unattractive so we might as well head back to Catania. We bought our tickets and were told our bus was the one that was leaving that moment. So we grabbed our bags and ran into the parking lot. I chased after a bus after it pulled out, flagged down the driver but it was empty and he said he wasn't going to Catania. Behind me Mike and Lauren were trying to figure which of the 6 buses that were maneuvering around the bus yard were ours. After a couple frantic minutes and the ticket booth guy looking at like we were morons and point indiscriminately we found our bus, threw our bags on, then it pulled out and promptly had us back in Catania.
We hauled our bags across town to our hostel, stopping for some much need Gelato. We were let into the hostel, and then lounged and napped for a bit before heading out in search of food. We found a suitable place walked in, and were told they didn't start serving until 8. We had two hours. I led us back to a sandwich shop/ pizzeria I'd seen and we got something to hold us over, then went to the bus station to get Mike's ticket for the next morning.
We headed back toward our restaurant but switched to a more authentic looking one. We all ordered pasta dishes that we didn't really know what they contained but it was very good. Lauren and Mike ordered Calimari again, and again it didn't come. My travel partners were quite perturbed about how tough it was to get some calamari in Sicily, so I finally had to remind our waitress. They brought it out and it was almost like stuffed squid, and in Mike and Lauren's opinion not very good. A big bummer, Mike called it. Greg and Claudio, a fellow wide receiver said they come by to have a drink and met us at the restaurant once we finished. They gave Mike his cell phone, then they took us to a cracking nightspot were we had a beer and talked. They are really nice guys. Mike was ready to fall asleep on his feet, so we finally called it a night said our goodbyes and thanked them for their hospitality. They invited us back out the next night for a teammates birthday but Lauren I and are headed to Siricusa if the weather is good. We were in bed before one but poor Mike had to get up and catch his 7am flight. Tisma is going to be pretty confused when I am not on that flight with him.
Tuesday April 28th
We ate our breakfast at Porto Carlos, reserved our hotel in Milano, then caught the bus to Siricusa. The weather was sunny enough for some Sicilian sunbathing so we were anxious to get to Siricusa, unload are bags at a hostel, and hit the beach. We hopped off just north of where we wanted to be and started walking with no bearings. We hit a main piazza and Lauren thought we were going to wrong way, so we doubled back past the train station and then ended up in an industrial area. I took the guidebook and decided that we were going the right way originally and we hoofed it south, stopping for some pasta and pastries at a café.
We found the first hostel easily and I asked the woman for a room. She said they had one, that it would be 75 euros and walked us up. It was brand new, and very nice but 75 euros is more than I wanted to pay. So I told the lady we'd check the other local hostel and then be back in 20 minutes. She dropped the price to 65, and I dropped our bags, deal. At the end of the day I prefer to lockdown my lodging quickly rather than running all over town, trying to barter and find the best deal. I have also noticed whenever you ask for a room, they pretend they aren't sure if they have one, then say oh yes, we do have one left, when in actuality the whole place is unoccupied. It is hardly peak season.
Lauren and I threw on our suits and started walking. We were on a small peninsula so water was everywhere. We picked a direction and walked, only when we got closer to the water, we realized we were 30 feet above it, on a giant fortified wall that encased the city. Below there was a small strip of rocks, but no way down and nowhere to lay a towel. So we check the other side, only to find the same. We walked around the point and back up north finally making it to the harbor. On the other side of the harbor it looked as if there might be some sand. We walked for 15 minutes to get there and found a dirty, oily, pop can, and fish carcass littered strip of gravely sand. Lauren called it a bad joke, we are in Sicily, finally with a sunny day and we find ourselves in a place that DOESN'T HAVE A BEACH! We both imagined spending a great deal of time in the Sicilian sun and after spending 3 ˝ days we'd only managed a couple farmers tans from the game against Catania.
On the other side of the harbor gravel spit, and 80 yard strip of beach was fenced off with wood panels, swept, and kept clean, with wooden lounge chairs dotting it and only one couple patronizing it. After a prolonged inspection we decided that it was some sort of private resort, of course the only beach in the city would be private.
With nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no beach to lie on we wandered the waterfront neighborhoods following alleys and stairwells down onto the volcanic rock the angled into the ocean. Finally we walked back, stopping to read and drink a beer in the falling sun. After 30 minutes we were in shadow, dressed in shorts, sandals, and t-shirts, shivering against the evening wind. Oh Sicily have you no mercy?
I grabbed the last rice, cheese, and meat sauce Arancinni at a local store and then Lauren wanted one so I gave her mine and had to go back in. They were now out of rice, cheese, and meat sauce Arancinni's so I was stuck eating one that was basically deep fried, chopped up spaghetti. "Yesterday's leftovers" as Lauren put it. The things I do for my sister.
Our impromptu beach search/ walking tour had covered the vast majority of the small, quirky, and very cool little city - that is if you're not big into beaches.
We went back up to the room and read and napped for a bit, Lauren woke me up at 8:30, Tisma was calling wondering where I was. The call was short and exasperating. He told me he was trying to set up a practice at 5pm on Wednesday and wanted to know if I would be back. I told him at the earliest I'd be back around midnight on Wednesday and of course that wasn't the answer he wanted. Somehow out of all of our communications before Lauren came out and we traveled to Cantania almost nothing had been correctly communicated or accurately comprehended. It stressed me out. I was considering trying to catch an earlier flight and get up to Bolzano by 5pm. Lauren and I set out on a journey looking for an Internet café. After the Lonely Planets recommendation turned out to have gone out of business, we found one that was open and splurged on two computers, deciding the an hour of access to the internet would be our entertainment for the evening. We checked the flights; the first one into Milano was 10am. I checked the Hawks draft class, read a nauseating article where Steve Kelley drooled over Seahawks GM Tim Ruskell's draft day mettle and execution. Maybe it was good maybe it was bad, but after several bouts of hyperbole such as "TR was in the zone like Tiger on the back nine, etc, etc" I felt so nauseous I almost had to ask where the bathroom was.
We walked back, cracked some, wine, read, and called it a night. I was wresting with whether or not I should wake us up at 6:30, hurry us out the door, and try and catch the 10am flight. I set my alarm just in case, but I decided that the last thing I wanted to do was hustle up to Bolzano and abandon my sister for what I knew would be at best, a glorified throwing session. I also had to figure out how I was going to get out of next Tuesday's practice to go Spain from Monday afternoon to Thursday morning. That was stressing me out pretty good as well.
The first alarm went off, and I silenced it and went back to sleep. We woke up in time to catch the continental breakfast that finished at 10, then found a café drank a beer, a liter of water, then ordered a couple pizzas. Finally we took off and eventually reached the train station at two, just in time to catch the hour and fifteen minute bus back to Catania, then take another short bus to the airport for our 4:40 departure to Milano. While Lauren napped, I was turning the pages of my James Ellroy trilogy. After an hour I realized that we weren't moving very fast and hadn't gotten very far. The clock on the bus read 3:30 and Lauren and I were a bit nervous. Traffic continued to be terrible, and we finally made the station at 4:02 and watched bus 457 (the airport route) pull away for the airport as we jumped off our bus. We were in trouble. We waited anxiously for the next bus to the airport and it came 15 minutes later. We got to the EasyJet check in counter at 3:30 and no one was there. We headed to the ticket counter expecting to get bumped to the next flight and instead had to by tickets for it at 60 euros a pop. That stung.
We sat in a café reading and playing cards, waiting for our flight to Milan at 20:30. 90 minutes before it boarded we were in line, and debating if the arrival time of 23:35 in Milan was accurate. It had taken just over an hour to get to Catania from Verona, how did it take 3 hours to get to Milano? Lauren decided it was a type-o. At the counter, a man processed our tickets and checked our passports then informed us that our plane was delayed three hours. We were dumbfounded.
To make up for it, they gave us 4-euro vouchers each for food. We waited a couple hours then tried to use them at the last place open by are terminal, a wine bar. The woman behind the counter had rang up four pastries and a couple waters. I pulled out the vouchers but she said they didn't take them. Of course not. Exasperated I told Lauren to drop her armful of pastries, and walked out embarrassed. The lady apologized and told Lauren to take the croissants, they were closing up in a minute anyway. They were great croissants. We had to exit the departure area then on our third try found a café that took the vouchers. Lauren accidentally grabbed frizzante water instead of naturale, so we had some bubbly to go along with our calzones.
We waited and waited, people got up several times, they announced we were boarding then didn't board us for another 15 minutes. Finally at midnight we got onto the plane. At 2am we had our bags in Malpensa. Our Hostel was an hour bus ride back into Milano, so we instead elected to sleep on two not so comfortable, steel pipe, and wire mesh benches. They very soft.
I drifted in and out of sleep until 6am, then Lauren and I set off to figure out how to get her to the proper terminal. She had to take the shuttle to terminal 2, and I had to catch a bus to Milano's train station.
We said our goodbyes, both tired, and ready to be back home. It was a great trip, and we had been all over Italy, but it had left us both pretty spent. Additionally our Sicily adventure with the weather, as well as the impromptu travel took it's toll, and of course the final straw was missing our afternoon flight and not getting out of Catania until Sicily. But when it was all said and done, I'd seen more of Italy in 10 days than I had in my previous 3 months, something I suspected would happen on Lauren's visit. And it was great having my sister come out and visit me.
At Milano Central Train Station, I had to wait an hour before my train left, then get off after 2 hours and transfer trains at Verona. I thought it would be about an hour, maybe a little more going North but instead we stopped at every little town along the way, and two hours later I was finally back in Bolzano.
I got home, caught up with Mike and then we hit the gym for a much needed lift. We practiced that night, coach Tisma, was not in a very good mood, and consequently I got chewed out over some pretty petty things. We finally got home at 11pm, and April was over.
