Erice: Too bad the view was shit.

This October, our lab took a trip to a workshop on "Genomic Imprinting, Epigenetics, and Physiological Functions" in Erice, Sicily. This gave me a sneaky way visit Sicily by taking advantage of covered airfare. It's bunches of fun to be the only non-EU traveler in your group when there's limited layover between your connecting flights with separate airlines.

Of course, I set myself up to do this in the most difficult way possible–by pre-loading my jet lag with a week trip back home to California. Go me! This of course landed me a sore throat that made me feel like a bullfrog most of the time and like someone was carving me a Chilean necktie when I swallowed. Sicily itself turned out spectacularly, but one of the lessons I learned (and looking back can apply here) was the phrase our friend Francesco gave us: "In Sicily....maaaybe." Maybe the pharmacy would be open.... maybe it wouldn't. Most of the time it wasn't. Especially when we were on a cliff 750 feet above sea level and still right next to the coast line.

View from the furthest edge of the cliff on which Erice is perched

It turns out this coastline of Sicily (we flew into Palermo and drove to Erice) is characterized by a lot of abrupt cliffs– they appear very suddenly compared to the rest of the landscape, making you wonder what sort of geological magic brought them into being. As you're climbing the clifftop on which the historic city of Erice is perched, weaving back and forth on tight turns, you simultaneously get a sense of how high these mountains are and of the surrounding landscape.

The view of Trapani as we climbed to Erice

The air was hazy, which made long distances difficult to pick out, instead fading them into the sky as if there was no true horizon. This was particularly prominent when you looked out to sea. In once instance, while at the conference, we trekked out to one edge of the cliff (I could run around the cliff edge and the historic city center in about 10-15 minutes) to watch the sunset. The water ran into the sky as if there were no horizon, and the clouds in the distance cut across the sun very like the rings of Saturn, giving me the impression that we were on some alien vivi-sphere, encased in blue but absent of any boundaries or landscape beyond what we could see.

A panorama of the unfortunate view we had EVERY COFFEE BREAK.

Morning run around Erice, view over the wall

A view of the coast through an alley

Castles

Matt and me, wondering why we ever got into science.

Another view of the castles at sunset. We're looking the wrong way to see the sunset though...

It's hard to capture sunsets on your phone.

A ring around the sun, like Saturn

Inland, Sicily looks brown like California, with dry orchards and many, many olive orchards perched on rocky mountainsides. These orchards often have deteriorating rock shanties with low, small doors–sheds perhaps? They have no road leading to them, suggesting they serve people who tend the orchards on foot.

Vineyards on the way to Erice 

It seems Sicilians spend a lot of time on their doorstep, watching the world go by and smoking. It's so central to the culture, even the stray dogs do it:

These dogs were hanging about the streets most of the time. It's a small city center, so you run into them a lot.

Even in this isolated city center on top of a mountain, there were a lot of dogs around Sicily. Some of them are strays, some are not. It's hard to tell at times. I suppose we must have more programs to pick up stray dogs in the UK and the US? I could tell people really loved their dogs, but they must have focused on their dogs particularly, rather than dogs in general.

Next up: The history city of Erice (which is small and whose economy seems to run mostly on hosting science conferences and tourism!)