Nebrodi Hike with Waterfall and Cows

We awoke to a beautiful day and another pretty vista from our BnB. Throwing on some clothes, we headed to breakfast, knowing showers and a more bella figura were pointless before our hike today.

At breakfast, oddly, we met a couple from Virginia, who remind me of some of Joe’s friends, with gender-reverse personalities. “Oddly,” because they’re the first gringos we’ve seen in Sicily for quite some time (probably since Taormina).

Off to the Nebrodi! Let’s just say the path is not an autostrada—but at least it’s paved. Here’s a clip of us driving down a 2-way mountain road, which is not only shared with vehicles, but also horses, donkeys, and the wild suino nero, the Nebrodi’s famous black pig. I also saw what looked to be guinea hens, but I’m sure I’m wrong. I was busy drowning in cold sweat:

I had always imagined that, in my impending final moments, my life would flash before my eyes, in sweet memories of my kids, my grandparents, my birth family, of Ettore, of Joe, of Italy. But I came close to the test of truth, when I thought we were going over the cliff, and all I could think of was, “Well f@#!—this is how I’m gonna die”.

But Joe, ever calm, ever cool, handled things splendidly. We survived. Later he confessed,”I was worried for a minute, because sometimes the car will lurch forward an inch or two when shifting gears, and there was no room for that to happen without going over the edge.” I’m glad he was the one driving.

On to the trail, via the small village of San Basilio. We turned the wrong way down a one-way street; some friendly elderly gentlemen helped us out. We then missed a turn and had to double back, but finally got on track to the waterfall trail.

The Cascate Catafurco, touted to be “The Niagara Falls of Sicily,” was our destination goal. But (aside from the harrowing drive there), the journey was beautiful. Lots of photos ensue.

Bee hives and donkey. The farmer let us pet his dogs.

San Basilio river

Farm structure, Molise style 

Ass

One breathtaking view after another

We don’t know Petagno. Did we see it?

Stunning ochre rock

A tucked-away picnic spot

I took this photo for my mom—Tears of Mary

Another farm structure

If my sister Lori sees this—what here reminds you of grandpa’s garden?

Moliso

Stone Moliso buildings

Tears of Mary

Getting close

Sorgente Cannula

Do something fun with your hat, since you just took it off. Ok; yeah, that’s fine, gorgeous.

Guardians of the road.

Sorgente Sperlinga

We had to cross slippery rocks and rushing water for this view. Not Niagara Falls, but beautiful nonetheless.

Just chillin’

The gated entry. I had to pay the gatekeeper with a kiss (it was Joe who opened/closed it—

after I showed him how)

I like cows

Cow rest stop, evidently 

Waterfall and stream

Ascent to the Cascate

So happy to be here

Olive grove

Thatched animal shed

So serious(ly bowlegged)

Alas; no wine, no snacks 

The travel/trail tourist websites suggested that our skeletal remains would be all that’s left of us if we didn’t hire a Jeep tour. Honestly, the hardest part (again—besides the drive) was crossing the river to see the waterfall.

We saw sheep, cows, what looked to be guinea hens(?), and dogs, but nary a suino nero, which I had hoped to come across. Thankfully, we were spared seeing any snakes.

On the return to our car, Joe asked if my expectations were met.

“Not at all a Niagara Falls waterfall, so it was a little less than expected, but I loved it anyway. The hike in, and the Nebrodi mountains, far exceeded my dreamiest expectations. What a mystical, magical place!”

And, except for the cows, the dogs, some hens, and the lowing sheep across the river, we had the place entirely to ourselves.

It was pure bliss. This is my “church”.

We decided to save another adventure for tomorrow, and to stick around Capo d’Orlando the rest of the day. I couldn’t resist taking more pictures of the same spots as yesterday; the reflection of the water in sunlight is so different from those at dusk.

Messinese pizza

I told Joe I thought daughter Sarah would love this beer

Horses running wild near the bridge

Yachts in background 

Lipari on horizon 

After a light lunch and a walk along the sea, we needed a shower. Back to the B&B to clean up, relax a little, and get dressed for the evening. I found a spot recommended by a local, and suggested we go there for an aperitivo. GPS took us to a swanky complex for yachters, where an employee at a restaurant with a full bar told us it’s a Ristorante—diners only. Go to the end of the complex for a drink. It was the most we’ve spent on drinks in a long time, but the bill still came to just 15€, and the setting was stunning. We sat next to a Sicilian version of my Napoletano friend, Davide. This guy was a cheerful sort, and seemed to speak many languages. A sliver moon and Venus held company with stars above us, as we sat outdoors near the docked vessels.

Our farewell dinner at Ristorante Pippo Anzà was another win. Joe had spaghetti with clams for the second time in two days; I had the mixed seafood grill, which was WOW. We shared a zabaione-chocolate semifreddo, with Joe having a grappa while I had another one of the best caffe around. Maria, the owner, and Pippo, the chef, came and chatted with us a couple of times. We swore we’d return. The server gave Joe another (gratis) grappa, as if one weren’t plenty! Joe really liked their grappa and had asked to see the label.

Joe likes this grappa.

Orata, prawns, triglie, calamaro, and salmon. 

We split a very tasty salad.

Semifreddo 

With putting on a bunch of miles (on foot) today, along with full stomachs, grappa, and pleasant sleepiness, it’s nearly 1:00 am. Joe’s snoring. And I’m groping in the dark for my earplugs.

It was a great day.