The black and white checks painted on the wall are a familiar site in Palermo. These are the colors of their football club, and every street had painted walls or balconies and alleys festooned with banners and flags supporting the team. Sicilian men must be really confident in their masculinity, as I saw alot of them strutting around Palermo in hot pink football scarves or jerseys. I bought one for Al...I doubt he'll ever wear it but I thought it was a "very Palermo" souvenir to bring back for him. 

This little local shrine was plunked in the courtyard of an apartment building near our place. Almost every apartment block I passed had a shrine to the Virgin Mary built into a little niche in the wall...they were all gloriously tacky, with garishly painted statues and fake plastic flowers, but really gorgeous at the same time.  

Here's the street where we stayed...my building is the one on the right, beyond the gas station. 

Giorgio (proprietor of the famous Giorgio's House) took us on a night tour of Palermo, and we came here to eat "arrancina," a traditional Sicilian food which I can only describe as a heart attack ball. It's a ball of rice, with ham and cheese on the inside, deep fried all over. It looks like a little donut or something, except with mucho calories and cholesterol...yummy.  

Giorgio was a fantastic host. He took us on a night tour to Mondello, a little seaside town just outside Palermo (it's probably a suburb of Palermo, to be accurate) full of big lovely houses, and a sort of midway or boardwalk with restaurants and amusements and street vendors. Across from this midway was the beach...it was so nice to see ocean! Well, sea. There were lots of lovely white fishing boats ,decorated in bright orange and royal blue, parked on the shore. I asked Giorgio if fishing was a big industry...apparently, nothing except the, ahem, "laundry" business is big industry in Sicily. I started looking suspiciously at all the gorgeous beachfront villas around us at that point, wondering if some Marlon Brando-ish godfather figure was going to pop out with a machine gun. 

These are prickly pears. I'd never seen them before, I had no idea what they were. Did I ever feel like a country bumpkin. Don't touch, though, they really are prickly, although they're beautiful. 

Here's Jen, on her deathbed at Giorgio's House. I can't believe I didn't catch her cold. It was the Super-London-Deathbug and she was sick allll weekend. Good thing the ticket only cost 98 pence...if she had paid more money to be there, I would've dragged her out on the town come hell or high water. 

We had a TV, although it was monopolized by the incredibly rude American exchange students who were also at Giorgio's House and wanted to watch MTV a whole lot. They also liked to pretend Jen and I didn't exist a whole lot, too. So much for meeting new travellin' friends! 

This was our little kitchen at Giorgio's House. 

These lovely ladies were on our plane home and we very nonchalantly sitting and talking, wearing lovely hats that they'd made out of barf bags, which you could see sticking up over all the other seats. Quite funny. So I took a picture. I thought this was something only Andrea or Kelly and I might do. 

Here's our new pal Inigo who we met in the Palermo Airport. He was good conversation because Jen was, at this point, dying of influenza or something, and a little out of it. He shared his nice lunch that his mum had packed, too.  

I hope you have a great day, Dad! Love you lots, miss you more, and I wish I could be there to celebrate your special day. I'll be home soon!