Ortigia – Day 33

We climbed for about an hour. Then the mist cleared and we started to go through pretty towns north of Catania built in the Genoese style.

Plant life was lush. With palms, vines and umbrella pines. Every railing covered with the exotic purples of convolvulus.

Then glimpses of the caldera through gaps in the trees and old lava flows. Snow on the tops.

Then we were on our way down again. Past black and yellow snow markers and a piste basher parked under a wooden shelter.

Ears popping we followed the road down and then… WHAT THE FLIP?!  

A warning light of an engine showing orange appeared on the dash. We stopped and I went to the boot to find the manual.

It said it was an ignition or supply issue and to consult a Fiat agent. Damn! 

But it also said it would be OK to drive. 

Alrighty then! Onwards Pedro.

I slammed the boot and thought I’d just take a look under the bonnet. As I went to the passenger door for the release catch I saw the front left’s wheel trim lying flat on the road. There was a burning smell of plastic. I couldn’t work it out at first because these trims are held on by the wheel bolts. Then I realised that the wheels must have got so hot the holes had melted around the bolts and when we stopped the trim had just flopped off. It had only been held there by centrifugal force.

Bloody hell..!

I went round the other side. Same thing. Bizarre! The wheel trim simply lying by the wheel on the road. Molten plastic dripping off the wheel bolts. I was tempted to touch it. In the way that you do in an Indian restaurant when the waiter says ‘Be careful sir. Plate very hot.’

But Pedro shook his head.

WTF…?

Brakes binding?

I really hadn’t been using the brakes hard. Hmmm…no clue. Pedro was silent on the matter. The automotive equivalent of nibbling on a patch of wayside grass.

Under the bonnet all was normal. Oil ok. Water ok. The guage said water temperature ok too.

On we went.

Now what should have been a pretty drive was marred by garbage. We passed the towns of Randazzo and Bronte – with its connection to Horatio Nelson – but every lay-by had rubbish piled in it. Some of it had clearly been there for weeks. Some mafia thing I guessed. I’d read this was something they liked to control because it could so quickly become a local election issue if not sorted..ie. payments made.

On the outskirts of Syracuse we popped into a Fiat agent and they immediately rigged Peds up to a computer. Imagine getting that service at home. They thought it was a coolant issue but not sure. Could I pop back tomorrow when their auto electrician was in?

You can’t drive into Ortigia which is the fortified peninsula attached to Syracuse by a bridge. Well you can but much of it is covered by a ZTL.  So we parked up and I did the rest on foot. Now I was glad of my folding wheels because the backpack was heavy and betty with both straps on.

Ortigia’s famous son was Archimedes. When the Romans invaded, Marcellus the general in charge issued orders to find him and detain him. But Archimedes hearing banging on his door answered sword in hand and was promptly run through by a centurion. No extra bag of salt for that soldier I guessed. 

The day finished with a beautiful afternoon of clear blue skies. Rain was forecast but I couldn’t see it happening right now.