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Well, some bad weather at last ..  wind and rain, so we went to see some culture.  Hit the jackpot at Segesta.  Acropolis, amphitheatre, castle, dating from 5^th to the 3^rd century BC (Vth to the IIIrd was the unnecessarily obscure way they described it, on the train it was 2do class not IInd class), making it the oldest stuff I’ve ever seen (I’m sure somebody will correct me, e.g. light from Sirius or some such).

The sun has been warm enough for us to sit outside for breakfast till now, and get onto the beach for a swim.  You have to pick your spot between well insulated fishermen in order to avoid any possibility of entanglement, and criticism.

In between, Feb 15^th, we got the train to Trapani.  Our guide book tells us that Italy has a frequent and efficient train service with some of the most up to date rolling stock in Europe.

Also our guide book told us to buy tickets from the station.  When we got to the semi ruined Alcamo Station there was no ticket office, no underpass, no car park, and only a dead lizard in the bidet.

We went to Trapani, but our intention was to go to Palermo.  We got to the station at about 11 am and the next train to Palermo (or anywhere apart from Trapani) was at 3 pm.

When the train arrived we were asked for tickets by the guard, of which we had none, and so were refused access to board.  Unable to communicate with the guard, we just fell silent, stood still and looked forlorn.  The guard shut the door, the engine rev’d .. but then the door opened and the guard let us on.  In order to be able to live with ourselves for the rest of the visit we bought a return when we got to the other end.

Trapani was interesting, some shops were open, but as usual, closed as soon as I got my wallet out.  Saying that, we did find a fishing tackle shop so I could get a reel, some weights and some hooks after some difficulty with phrase book Italian (bereft of any reference to fishing at all) and my schoolboy French which is equally lacking in that area of vocabulary.  I found out the Rod is cano, ligne seemed to do the trick for reel and line, and plomb didn’t work for lead weights, but he’d got the gist of what I was trying to do by then.  How difficult can it be to buy a reel, some line, some weights and some hooks in a fishing tackle shop?  What did he expect me to want!

Now all I need is some bait, failing that I’ll be trying to coax fish onto my hook with Salami di Milano or anchovies.  I’m not keen on trying unorthodox bait ever since as a lad, with the support of my Mum, I’d  experimented with fishing in the Ouse at York with raisins.  We were informed that this was the Pike’s favourite dish and if we were to catch one to “beware ‘cos they can take yer arm clean off”.  You will be aware from the number of limbs I am currently endowed with that the Pike were not feeding that day.