The Gangster Cat in Siracusa

 What is Italy really like? How are Italian cities different from American or European cities? The answer can be as varied as the cities in Italy. But one thing is for sure--Italians are good at using what they have to survive. They host open air markets where many locals (and tourists) shop. They offer loads of old churches. The new Italy is built around the old. In every town there is a square and a fountain.

We arrive in Siracusa, a city that has done its best to utilize the lava that over the years flowed down too regularly from Mt. Etna. The streets of this old Sicilian town are black because they were paved in lava. They are narrow and quaint, engulfed on both sides by old structures. 

The open air market is stupendous. They not only display spices, fruits, veggies, fish and meat and many other local products--dishes, for example. You can literally wander around this market for hours.

Theo is in his element. He loves to sniff everything. We hold tight to him so he isn't trampled to death with all the people milling about, but he is leaning over at each stall, trying to figure out what is there and if it is anything he'll like. To eat. 

 

Theo has no interest in fruits or veggies, but when we reach the fish stand, he starts to wiggle. The nice Italian guy working the stand doesn't help.

"Who are you," he asks in English. "Ah, you like the fish, no?" He picks up a filet and waves it in front of Theo's nose.

This is not a good idea. I don't know what the gangster cat would do to get at the raw fish, but I don't want to take any chances. We take a step backward, then smile and wave goodbye.

The market also offers a "how to make fresh mozzarella" demonstration. This is the local specialty and the core of Sicilian cooking. 

 

We step closer to see the process in action. The mozzarella maker is swishing the newly formed mozzarella in its own liquid. He lifts the delicious Italian cheese up and stretches it. 

Theo spots the mozzarella. He can smell it. He is safely ensconced in Dan's backpack, but he is a young, strong cat, and he wants out. Or more correctly speaking, he wants at the mozzarella. 

"Hold tight," I scream.

Dan, as always, is one step ahead of me. He's already anticipated the possible tragedy. He is holding onto Theo with all his might. Theo struggles valiantly. Is it the slightly milky smell? 

Together we realize that if we weren't more alert, Theo would have jumped into the mozzarella basin. And drowned? At the very least it could have caused an unforgivable international scandal:

Cat absconds with fresh mozzarella. Cat swims in mozzarella basin. 

"You are acting like an ugly American cat," I whisper to him as we leave the market. "We raised you better than that."

Later when we're in our hotel, relaxing, we talk about the market.

"Best day ever," Theo says with a big cat smile.  

Really? 

Chuck Visits Sacrificial Altar in Siracusa

           While we were touring Sicily on the Taormina side, I had a brainstorm.

Teatro Greco, one of the great theatres of the Classical Period--dating back to 5th century B.C.--was nearby. The theatre was in ruins, yes, but the ruins were magnificent. 

Because the ruins were carved out of rock, I thought that Chuck, my rascal cat, would appreciate the stop. 

After all, what cat wouldn’t want to see the ruins of an ancient theatre where the plays of Euripedes were once shown?  Where you could sit anywhere in the immense outdoor theatre on the ancient stones and hear what was being said on the stage below (without the benefit of microphones or speakers) because of the marvels of the ancient acoustic system. Where you could feel the cooling breezes from the nearby Ionian Sea in the stands because of the foresight of the planners, who chose to build the theatre near the water and take advantage of the geography.

Well, unfortunately, Chuck is not a fan of history or geography.

Usually, you have to entice him with a good story.

Ruins are ruins after all.

So I dragged my Chuck to Teatro Greco, sat him down with a SNACK, and tried to explain:

These ancient stones are not just stones . . .

Look around you . . . 

(I tried to impress him with the immense size.) This theatre was the largest ever built by the Greeks.  It had 67 rows, divided into nine sections with eight aisles.  It was eventually modified by the Romans who adapted the theatre to show different kinds of spectacles, including circus games. 

Over here is the Roman Amphitheatre, one of the top five amphitheatres left by the Romans.  Here gladiators fought and slaves were whipped into the center of a battle between wild beasts.  

For entertainment, I added.

Chuck looked mildly interested.

And here, is the Altar of Heron, the longest altar ever built: 75 feet wide by 653 feet long.  It was used by the Greeks to sacrifice hundreds of animals at once.  

But probably not cats, I added. 

Chuck scooted over.  I had caught his attention.  He stared at the altar.  What was he thinking? That how could such a terrible thing have happened?  

       Of course, I wasn’t finished.  I wanted to show him the stone quarries nearby, which were used as prisons in ancient times, but Chuck had had enough. 

Sure, he was sort of impressed by the ancient stones of Teatro Greco.  He scooted up and down the steps, sniffing, his way of discovering the past.  

And I let him. Finally, when it was time to go, I said:

Just think, Chuckie, if you lived back in the 5th century B.C., and were a Sicilian cat, this might have been your playground . . . and you’d be saying Ciao rather than Meow.

         My paranormal romance, Wild Point Island, is now available in mass market paperback and e book from Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.