Theo and the Infamous Caravaggio

 Theo is a wonder. On one hand, he grows impatient as we roam through cities. He ignores the wondrous architecture. He is an over sniffer, like some people are over thinkers--he sniffs everything from horses to mozzarella cheese. 

On the other hand, if something catches his interest, he is all in. But how can I begin to explain that it was Theo's idea to visit another church. Yes. It sounds unbelievable. But this is not just any church.

Theo heard about St. John's Co-Cathedral in Valletta, Malta. The outside, built from limestone, is not remarkable. The inside, however, is described as the finest example of high Baroque architecture in Europe. Which means as we enter, we see a dizzying array of gold, tapestries, statues, paintings and all kinds of ornate decoration on the walls and floors. 

The floor is composed of nearly 400 tombstones of knights--each tomb represented by a colored marble slab bearing the crest, coat-of-arms, and epitaph for each knight buried there.

Who's looking at the floor? This place is magnificent. I feel like Alice in Wonderland. 

But Theo is not interested in the architecture per se--no surprise there. He's heard through the cat vine that there are two Caravaggio masterpieces in the church. Who is Caravaggio? 

If you're not into art, you probably never heard of him. If you are into art, you know he is considered as influential as Michelangelo. He's been called an infamous Italian scoundrel, controversial yet renowned, and known for painting everyday people, not just the rich and famous.

His life reads like a novel. While working as an artist in Rome, he killed a man in a brawl and was given the death sentence. He was forced to flee to Naples, then traveled to Sicily and Malta seeking and getting a papal pardon, returned to Milan, then almost died in another fight which left his face disfigured. When he did eventually die, no one knows if he died of a fever or lead poisoning or murder? 

His paintings reflect an intense realism and dramatic lighting. 

One is the "Beheading of St. John." It is one of Caravaggio's biggest works and one of the few he signed. It is estimated to be worth millions of dollars, but impossible to put a price tag on. The exhibit wing is crowded.

Sometimes we go places with Theo and no one is there. Sometimes it's crowded and no one cares. But this time we're wary. We figure he can see the painting, but he should stay in the backpack until the coast is clear. Our plan is that as we face the painting, we'll unzip and Theo can peek out. I'll stand on one side and block the side views. We hope everyone's eyes will be on the painting and not looking around.

Theo doesn't like the plan. He would rather scamper off and sniff the painting.

No way. That is not going to happen. 

He pouts and makes us feel incredibly guilty, citing prejudice against felines. "If I were a dog . . . " Theo is convinced dogs get better treatment than cats. "In France . . ."

We've heard his arguments before. 

"If Chuck were here . . . " That's another one of his favorite arguments. He heard too many stories from Chuck, some true, some exaggerated. 

Caravaggio's "Beheading of St. John" is before us. 

We move in closer. Theo is straining to see. To his credit, he doesn't meow or whimper, but stares at the painting with rapt attention, the way he watches TV sometimes or, I admit, the birds on the patio.

I point out the obvious things--the realistic depiction of the slayer, the lighting on St. John, the use of color, but Theo seems to be oblivious to all those details.

"Well, do you like it?"

He nods. 

Theo likes it. I feel good. As we walk through the church to the outside, I feel on top of the world. "Theo actually appreciates art."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Dan says.

I'm confused. "You saw his reaction."

"Kate, he has that exact look on his face when he's watching the birds on our patio."

He's right. I'm forced to reconsider. Is Theo a Caravaggio enthusiast or bird watcher? A little of both, I think.

Theo Behaves Badly in Valletta

 At first, Theo does not want to go to Malta. He wants to stay in Sicily.  It's the food, of course. He likes fish . . . fish . . . and more fish. He wants to go back to that open air market and smell the fish. He likes the heat of the summer.

What can Malta offer? He wants to know.

We are sailing on the Mediterranean Sea to Malta, an island country between Sicily and North Africa. The natives speak Maltese (98%), English (88%) and Italian (66%). We figure we'll fit right in. Theo is unsure. His Italian is a little shaky,

"Well, Malta is known for lampuki," I explain. "Fried mahi-mahi." Theo squints at me. He likes tuna and mackerel. Mahi mahi? He's not sure. 

Dan and I are excited. We know that Malta has had a long and turbulent history. When other countries tried to dominate the Mediterranean Sea, when Europe clashed with Africa and the Middle East, Malta fought back. Like Sicily, Malta was ruled by Phoenicians, Romans, Greeks, Arabs, Normans, Sicilians, French and the British (in short, practically everyone.) 

During WWII Malta was a base for the Allies. It was heavily bombed by Germany and Italy. Finally in 1964, Malta achieved its independence. In 1980 it was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site. That's the short version, but it explains why walking around Valletta, the capital city, is like traveling back in time. We don't tell Theo any of this. To understand Malta's backstory, you have to understand the ancient world. 

We do a walking tour and are in awe. It is hot--hotter even than Sicily in summer. You need sunglasses and a hat. Our strategy is to suffer less and walk early in the morning, swim in the afternoon, and party at night. But Theo loves the heat. We can hear him softly purring as we trudge through the streets. 

Valletta is a walled city, founded in the 1500's by the Knights of St. John, a Roman Catholic order. Still today you can admire the historic cannons that sat ready and waiting at the port, ready to protect the city from siege. A glimpse of life back then.

Theo doesn't care about the guns. He notices a horse with a carriage. For tourists. Theo insists on making friends. We don't have time. He wants to go over and sniff. Of course. Okay. One sniff, but that's it. Theo then refuses to leave. This has happened before--he's thinking he wants to make a friend. We're thinking--we don't have time.   

The horse snorts. He stamps his foot. Once. Twice. This horse doesn't want to make friends. Theo is insistent. Luckily the driver of the carriage is taking siesta and doesn't care what's happening, but I care. 

"You are behaving badly," I tell him. 

He shrugs.

The only option left is to scoop up Theo and carry him off. He gives us the stink eye.

We ignore his pouting and walk through the town, which is one of the smallest capital cities in Europe, admiring the historic limestone buildings, decorated in the high baroque style. (Who can believe the intricate details?) We navigate through narrow streets. We even spot a lion statue as we mosey along. 

 We enter the section of Valletta called the Upper Barrakka, known for their gardens. Finally, we release Theo. He gives us a withering glance as he scampers among the flowers. 

"You can sniff to your heart's content. Be happy."

 If we served him some lampuki, he would be over the moon. His dried cat food will have to do.

 

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? 

Theo and Mt. Etna

 Years ago I saw one of Mt. Etna's many eruptions. From a distance it looked like the lava was spilling into the blackened sky. Some of the eruptions are harmless, some are not. It is wise not to get too close to where the lava is spilling out. 

Earlier that day, while it was erupting, I was lucky enough to take three different forms of transportation to get up the mountain. I then walked across what looked like a moonscape. The ground was still covered in black shiny glass-like lava from centuries before. 

Finally, I reached my destination. A crack in the earth on the other side of the mountain. I had to climb up a small incline before I had the chance to look down and watch lava flowing by inside the earth. The heat rising up from the crack melted the make-up off my face. It was a moment I would never forget. 

This is not the usual experience you have in other places. It would be considered too dangerous. I learned later the Sicilian Mafia was in charge of this operation. 

Now I am back in Sicily with Dan and Theo to see this notorious volcano. I want to see and show the boys that crack in the earth so they can see the flowing lava. 

We must ride part way up the mountain by car. The road winds its way up the mountain. Then at a certain point we'll meet our guide and walk the rest of the way up. This is not the way I went up the mountain the first time. Clue #1

The scenery is spectacular as we wind our way up the mountain. Everything looks lush, alive. 

We pass stands and stands of white birch trees. I don't remember them from the last time. Clue# 2

The higher we travel up Mt. Etna, the more spectacular the views. We can see the top of the mountain in the distance, where four or five craters exist. Now it's only spewing steam, but it still looks impressive. Again, there were few spectacular views the last time. Clue# 3

Then we begin to see the evidence of the many prior volcanic explosions. The black lava shows how far it has come down the mountain in previous eruptions. 

We have plans to meet our guide at a rest stop. We arrive and get out. Theo is itching to get out and run around and sniff. I feel that he'll have a much better experience if he knows something about Mt. Etna. 

"Theo, Etna is a very special volcano." 

We tell him everything we know: 

Mt. Etna is an active stratovolcano on the east coast of Sicily. It is one of the tallest, active volcanoes in Europe. It covers an area of 459 square miles. It is also one of the world's most active volcanoes and is in an almost constant state of activity. In 2013 it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Most eruptions occur at the summit. Some occur on the flanks of Etna, where there are over 300 vents ranging in size from small holes that emit steam to large craters hundreds of feet across. The flank eruptions are more dangerous. Since 1600 AD there have been 60 flank eruptions. Interestingly, the first recorded eruption of Etna was 396 BC. The historic record is filled with accounts of eruptions by scholars, writers, soldiers, and historians.

You never know if Theo is really listening. We watch him roam around and make a beeline for the lava on the ground. 

"Theo, we are in a magical place." 

That is true, but it is also a place of danger. I think about the crack in the earth. And I worry. Is this such a good idea?

We meet our guide and begin our trek up the mountain. She poses near a boulder that was kicked out of the mountain during an eruption. 

As we get higher and higher up, the path narrows in places and becomes quite slippery. Dan grabs hold of Theo, just in case. If you slip, you can literally fall off the mountain. 

All our hearts beat a little faster.

I say to our guide, "Does the mafia still run things around here?"

She looks confused, even a bit shocked. Clue #4

I then mention to the guide what I want to see. Now she looks at me as if I'm crazy. "That is no longer a possibility for tourists. You have to be a trained professional to get anywhere near that close."

I feel a mixture of disappointment, but some relief. 

"Don't worry. There are some great views on top," she assures me. 

After all the bragging I did, I know Dan and Theo will be disappointed, too. I couldn't be more wrong.

Dan, who is afraid of heights, is doing everything he can to stay on the mountain. He is not a fan of narrow slippery trails. Theo is happy just sniffing his way up the mountain. How many cats can brag that they've sniffed the actual Sicilian lava?

Our guide is right. The views are spectacular. The lava is everywhere.

When we reach the top, we see the crater in the distance. 

All in all, we are satisfied. I have my memory of the flowing lava, Dan made it down the mountain alive, and Theo is gobbling up snacks in the back seat of the car.  Another sort of perfect day.

Theo and the Sputtering Volcano

 I am not an expert on volcanoes. I don't know why they erupt sometimes and not at other times. I don't know how to tell if an erupting volcano is dangerous or just a sight to behold.

In the United States, there are only a few active volcanoes--Kilauea in Hawaii, Mount Rainier and Mount St. Helens in Washington state, Mount Hood in Oregon, Redoubt Volcano in Alaska, and then there's Yellowstone National Park.

Volcanoes that sputter and spit lava and steam are not easy to spot in the United States. The last volcano that erupted in the US was Kilauea in September 2024. The last dangerous eruption in the US occurred when Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980 and killed 60 people.

Maybe that is why volcanoes are so fascinating. There is that element of danger which warns you not to get too close. 

We are cruising to Siracusa in Sicily when we pass Stromboli, an active volcano in Sicily that erupts quite often. It is near sunset. A 3/4 moon hangs in the sky. 

We see the first fiery sparks every 10 minutes or so, and that gives me plenty of time to run and get Theo. He is napping, of course, but I shake him awake and explain the situation.

"Theo, this is a sight to see. I want you to come out with me. You'll probably never get to see a volcano erupting again."

Theo yawns.

"I'm serious. I wouldn't be so dismissive. Trust me on this."

When Theo is thinking or considering an idea, he usually gets up and stretches. He arches his back. He pretends not to be listening.

I wait. "Well?"

It would be nice if Theo says something like "No, mom, I'd rather not" or even "Just forget it."

But he doesn't. He relaxes and closes his eyes. 

"Theo."

Volcanos are not his thing. Obviously.

I'm back outside on the deck. The sparks from the volcano get bigger and bigger.

Then two lava sparks appear, and the lava begins to flow. You can see it begin to wind its way down the mountain. We're assured there is no danger. It is far enough away from civilization to hurt anyone. 

An erupting volcano is a mesmerizing event. You have a hard time pulling away. We blithely walk around on the earth, seldom thinking about what lies underneath. Until we have an earthquake. Or until a volcano erupts. 

Later, I show Theo the video I took. His attitude is completely different. He wants to see all three videos. He actually looks excited to watch the sparks and sputters. 

I don't want to say "I told you so" but the words pop out of my mouth. I feel bad.

"Well, tomorrow," I tell him, "We'll be climbing up Mt. Etna. Dad can put you in his backpack. Maybe you'll even be able to see some lava up close and personal."