Venerdì 15 Ottobre

I arrived here after a 14 hr transit – 3 flights, a bus ride, and a short walk to the pensione.

I had deep powerful naps along the way, the tiredness overcoming me without mercy. Bringing me in and out of my scene without warning.

My travel fatigue quickly melted away as I settled into those simple European pleasures in accommodation – an old caged elevator, tiled floors, high ceilings, an old bed, a window with a balcony overlooking the rustic, noisy street.

The small winding streets of Palermo call me. Urging me to explore, to get twisted around, to lose myself, to finally emerge and realize where I am.

I find a trattoria, engage with that Italian passion for food. Buffalo mozzarella, Parma ham, fresh grilled fish, vino della casa that you can drink all night.

The wait staff lounge around. Like in a dream state. Waiting to be called into action. The owner chatters in Italiano, trying to spur them into acton.

And then after, I do tempt the streets, lose me, I’ll find you.

Twisting, turning, back tracking.

Finally… I am home, safe for another day.