Ortigia is Magical!

~ Ken Mirvis

Six months ago, I had never heard of Ortigia. I only knew of Syracuse because of A) Syracuse, New York, and B) I thought it played some sort of role in Greek mythological history, but I didn’t really know what. I thought it was home to the Cyclops, but I was wrong; the Cyclops is more closely related to where we are headed tomorrow: the Mount Etna region, north of Catania.

Ortigia is a small island – 1 square kilometer – that is the southernmost neighborhood of the city of Siracusa (the 4th largest city in Sicily). For those of you who have seen Hadestown, Ortigia is where Hades abducted Persephone. It was also home to Archimedes.

Having been here for a week now, I have a few impressions. The winding alleyways, many only 6-feet wide, are great fun to explore. The shops range from very upscale Italian to ridiculously funky and fun. The restaurants, bakeries, and cafes are the stuff of myth. Every one of them is perfect, and the food is insane! Six mornings a week, an open-air market lines one block plus a few alleys. Tourists love to go there, but it is really where Siracusans buy much of their produce, cheese, fresh fish, olives, capers, dried fruits, and herbs. The place, the vibe, the courtyards, the blend of commercial and residential vaguely remind of the very best parts of New Orleans’ French Quarter (though there is nothing in Ortigia even vaguely reminiscent of the grossest parts of the French Quarter, the Bourbon Street scene).

We have now been in Sicily for 10 days, 2 in the seaport town of Pozzallo, and 8 here in Ortigia. We have walked almost everywhere: in 10 days, we took a taxi from the ferry to the hotel in Pozzallo, an intercity bus from Pozzallo to Siracusa, a short-hop bus (1 stop) from the bus station to Ortigia, and a bus from Ortigia to the Archaeological Park in Siracusa. Other than that, we have hoofed it everywhere … easily and comfortably. (And once we got to the Archaeological Park, we decided it wasn’t worth the money to go in, so we walked around a bit, bought a little piece of art on papyrus, then rode back to Ortigia and started walking again.)

At this point, I have no idea if this experience has been typically Sicilian, typically Italian, or typical of nothing except a few days in Pozzallo and Ortigia. The place is generally friendly, and just enough people speak just enough English that we never feel much of a language barrier … but the language is most assuredly Italian, and the people are most assuredly Sicilians.

When I was a kid, whenever my New York City grandmother visited, she brought a big box of cookies from Sutter’s bakery in Greenwich Village. The box always contained a selection of cookies dipped in chocolate. They were the first ones eaten. Every bakery in Sicily has similar cookies dipped in chocolate. What a sweet, sweet childhood memory!

On our first morning in Ortigia, we stepped out of our B&B headed for the street market. Of course, we had no idea which way to go, so we asked the first person who walked by … an aging (but not old) bearded guy wearing a black cap backwards with a pony tail … if he could direct us to the market. Wouldn’t you know! He was an American from Jersey who was just settling into a month in Ortigia who knows Italian really well and loves it here. Within the first block, we ID’ed people we both knew. He is an itinerant performer, juggler, minstrel, musician who performs on the U.S. Renaissance Faire circuit – Carl Asch also known as “Giuseppe the Jester.” We’ve had a great time making a new friend in Ortigia! (If you are curious, our mutual person is Avner Eisenberg, known to many as Avner the Eccentric. I still remember him as Alan Eisenberg from Morningside Elementary School in Atlanta; Carl, our new friend, introduced him to his wife; the rest of you might remember him as Al Juhara, the “jewel” in “The Jewel of the Nile.” What a hoot. If this post makes it to you, Avner, it’d be fun to be in touch again!)

Today, we are off to the Papyrus Museum. In the Greek and Roman periods, Siracusa was the center of papyrus farming. The papyrus plants had been imported from the Nile, and the quality of Siracusan papyrus rivaled that of the best Egypt had to offer. We are now proud owners of a small piece of papyrus paper art. Enjoy it next time you visit. (Alas, as is frequent with February travel, the museum was closed for repairs.)

Here is a little visual smattering of our time in Siracusa…

Welcome to Ortigia. Our room is the 3rd floor on the far left before the street. Our view is the Temple of Apollo.



From the balconies to the alleyways to the piazzas to the doorways to the cafes to the sea scenes, Ortigia is a visual feast. Plus, it does have a touch of a New Orleans feel: what the hell are the plastic trash cans hanging from the wall in the top left photo? So random!



The food is insane … frito mixto, gluten-free pastries, cakes, and cannoli, even a Sicilian pulled pork dish that left me wondering how in the world they did that!


|

Ortigia had a vibrant Jewish section for centuries. The alley runs through the heart of “Giudecca” and in the early 20th Century, a construction crew unearthed an ancient Mikvah – a ritual Jewish bath – in the basement of a home. The home is now a B&B, and the Mikvah is available for tours. The stone inscribed with Hebrew might be an ancient burial stone; it and others like it are on display in the courtyard of one of Ortigia’s largest cathedrals.


Getting to know our new friend Carl has been a hoot … from serenading Sicilians at the Temple of Apollo to sharing plenty of food and stories, to making us his famous “cromellettes” for breakfast one morning. We look forward to seeing you again in the States, Carl!



Aah, the Ortigia “waterfront,” the waterway that separates Siracusa and Ortigia. The fishermen were unloading their catch; the fishing baskets, called “Nasse,” line the canal; and the young man sat for a very long time picking morsels of sea urchins and filling cups for some sort of (untried) Sicilian delicacy.


My favorite Sicilian. That is Rebecca sitting at the end of the table at a random cafe by the street market. This gent slept through our coffee and entire game of cribbage. He then awoke with a snort, stood up, moved across the cafe to the table beside us, lit a cigarette, fell back asleep, then woke up a minute or so later knocking the hot ashes from his thigh. Hollywood could not possibly do it better.



Leave a comment