One of the reasons I’m drawn to Caffe Portomaso is because with three of its four walls being constructed entirely of glass, it’s suffused with natural light. Thus, even when sitting inside, it’s just like being outside on the spacious terrace.

Then, for those with a sweet tooth like myself, there’s the interesting selection of cakes to compliment a cappuccino or pot of tea. One of my favourites is the carrot cake, although anything which contains chocolate usually offers stiff competition to it.

Finally, the price. €5 for coffee and cake is pretty reasonable, all the more so when taking into consideration the availability of free wi-fi.

Notwithstanding this, I was immediately treated like royalty, invited to have my morning meal served while relaxed on a sofa and given a whole list of food and drink options, with Loredana toing and froing for my requirements: pastries (trellicine, cornetti, …), yogurts, fresh strawberries, orange juice and cappuccino. Had I wanted, cereals and milk were also available.

By 10:00 I was on the saddle, my body’s energy stores adequately replenished and, thankfully, without the need of a weighty rucksack! In lieu of this, I had a waist bag to carry the essentials, listed here in no particular order:
=> video cam
=> head torch
=> wallet
=> spare batteries
=> security chain
=> tissues
=> wet wipes
=> fig rolls
=> extra water bottle (only one cage on the bike)
=> notebook
=> pencil

For this week of touring, I had decided that direction would take priority over destination. Of course, I consulted my map each evening to see roughly where I would head the following day but this was only to have a general idea in which area of the Monti Iblei region to head towards. Today, it was Ferla and the nearby archeological park of Pantalica but should I have spotted an interesting side road, then I’d have had no qualms in riding it.

As it turned out, I did arrive at the entrance to Pantalica, which I reached after exiting Ferla and heading down a deserted, 11-kilometre, winding road, with only 250ml of water left on a day when the temperature was already climbing up the 30s. According to my 10-year old guide book, there should have been a kiosk near the entrance. “Should”, unfortunately, does not always hold much water with reality; it certainly didn’t help in replenishing my meagre fluid supply. Now, the only way was up and back to Ferla, a Calvary where even vinegar would have been a welcome alternative to bone-dry bottles.

Resurrection was to be found on a plastic chair on the sloping sidewalk outside Al Ranch bar, with the adjacent seat occupied by a 1.5 litre bottle of refridgerated water, a cool can of Coca Cola and two choc-filled sponge cakes. Church bells ring but my GPS shows it’s 13:52. They also rang 15 minutes earlier so it appears that time was out of synch in this hilltop town. And if it weren’t for these bells, there’d be little evidence of it’s passage, as the gents silently staring from some of the other chairs seem to confirm.

Cloud cover eased the ride back to Feudo Bauly and I cycled through the gate at 17:00, after having gone up and down 80kms worth of hills.

Video clip here: Nature scene

(For the previous part of this travelogue, click Part 3)

A minor irritation is that internet access is unavailable today at Caffe Portomaso and since I’m still waiting for go mobile to introduce the microSIM card, I can’t upload this blog entry on the spot or do the work I had scheduled.

Manikata church

I have always been drawn to shapes and colours. This is a detail of intersecting weeds, gravel and wall in the grounds of Manikata church.

Next fave pic: The Hand

Midweek, eight-thirty in the morning, and there already were a few people on the beach while I was cranking out the first of many revolutions that would take me from sea-level to 630 metres some 52 kilometres later. The route was worked out using a Garmin Oregon 550t GPS, with a bias for secondary, hence quieter, roads.

Route of Day 1

Along the way, I made sure to remind myself that this was not a race, neither a challenge but a tour. As such, I was entitled to stop as often as I wanted, pedal as slowly as I pleased and not feel an iota of guilt about it. To prove the point, I was soon stopping to take the first of many photos and video clips with my Sanyo Xacti digital movie camera (the waterproof version, for those just-in-case situations).

Space-age vegetation

A lonesome building

I knew I was in trouble when, after some upward twists and turns, I saw a chequered line painted across the one-lane country road with the word START (aha, it was in English) in bold red paint. This could mean only one thing – a hill-climb course. Though I normally relish climbs – that’s why I chose this part of Sicily for my tour – I wasn’t exactly ecstatic with the thought of what lay ahead, especially with the water in my bottles seemingly evaporating in the relentless heat and with shade in equally short supply. What choice did I have but to deceive myself into thinking that the FINISH lay round the next bend … or the one after that.  

If you listen carefully to my voice in this short commentary to the video clip 40kms on, you’ll realize I’m not kidding! As an aside, this is also where I took my first pee on Sicilian soil.

Tigne Point sales office's reserved parking

This post appeared as a letter in The Times dated 10th May 2010.

Thanks to Stanley Borg for these photos

The circular route was mostly along quiet country roads or tracks and is quite manageable for walkers of any ability; the most challenging part being the hill rising up from Fiddien Valley to Dwejra, although it always seems so much harder when I’m doing it with my bicycle. The 10.5km circuit can be done comfortably in 2¼ hours.

Route taken

Should you like to download the route to your GPS, contact me for the relevant GPX file.

Take today, for instance. Needing a respite from this week’s health scare (fingers crossed that it will remain just that) and motivated by glorious spring weather, I set off to Mdina. This medieval city, once Malta’s capital, carries itself pretty well in spite of some crumbling bastions and a creeping commercialization which is eating away at its sobriquet of The Silent City. I was pleased to discover that a new museum had opened up since my last visit – The National Picture Archive. While being no larger than a hallway and half-a-staircase of a former palace, it serves as the seed for a worthwhile undertaking, that of preserving family and historical photos. Currently it is simply a portrait gallery of Maltese who have made a name for themselves in the fields of politics, theatre, music, sport and law but it is still a commendable start.

Being a keen photographer, I make it a point to keep both eyes open to any photographic possibilities and this necessitates raising them above the usual horizontal field of vision. Since I was travelling light, I only had my Sanyo camcorder, which serves as an adequate camera too. While the beautiful natural light suffusing the walls and spaces in between was perfect for even bog-standard shots of streets, facades and door knockers, I was quite chuffed to discover coat-of-arms sculptures which I had never seen before. Moral of the story? Look around you with the eyes of someone who is new to the place.

The cakes and views from Fontanella Tea Rooms are what Rome is to Italian artistic extravagance so who am I to renounce on a visit that is recommended by every guide-book? In fact I spent a glorious 2 hours sunning myself on a pleasantly quiet terrace (where were the noisy hordes which get deposited outside the city gates in busloads?) while my attention alternated between the breathtaking scenery, a hilarious collection of short stories by Hector Hugh Munro and jotting down ideas for articles in my notebook; all the while sipping tea and forking morsels of chocolate and orange cake into a welcoming mouth.