Sicily: it's Monday - it must be...

After a while it's all too easy for one place to meld into the next: it's Monday it must be Modena - sort of thing. As it happeneth, it is Monday and we did start in Modena! 

Here's Jan's take on where we got to. 

"We are up in the hills, surrounded by Baroque bell towers and florid painted ceramics and wall-to-wall sunshine. It seems there is no middle-weather here: either torrential thunderstorms crashing round our ears or pitiless sun. Not that we are really complaining, but we bailed out at lunchtime today after too many kilometres of hairpin bends in the blistering heat. These are great roads to cycle, but it is hard work with all our stuff and leaves us less time for sightseeing.

We cycled from Modica to Ragusa first thing this morning, over the highest viaduct in Europe (supposedly) and yes, Mum, it really did take us somewhere! But the road was bumpy and my tyre's were still hard and Jony's water bottle jumped off my bike and the lid came off and that was the end of my water. Ragusa Ibla is another wonderful old hill town, full of nooks and crannies and more hairpin bends. So the thought of cycling another four hours over the hills with few prospects of filling up with water challenged both of us.

So instead we got the only bus. It leaves Ragusa just as the schools come out, so took a very circuitous route. The entire staff at the Ufficio Turistico had pooled their resources to secure a promise from the bus company that they would transport our bikes - and this was duly honoured. Until two-thirds of the way through our journey, when oddly we approached the same town for a second time, having just dropped pupils off in the middle of nowhere. This time we ended up in the bus depot and one of the school children told us (in perfect English) that we would have to change buses. We looked around but couldn't see one that looked as though it would go further. She pointed to a minibus. What? 

The minibus loads up: three local women, the schoolgirl, our bikes and luggage propped up in the boot, us. The bus driver, the bus driver's mate and the bus company boss. Off around the town, as far as the town hall. And park up. Then we realise that the bus driver, his mate and the boss are going to the bar for a coffee. I ask the schoolgirl. 'Yes, everyday.' 

Well, when in Rome I might as well have a coffee too. 

And eventually we all set off again, the bus full of bonhomie and banter. Over more hills and into the dusk. So here are at Caltegirone, sitting on a beautiful terrace, surrounded by bells and hideous (I mean Arab-inspired) ceramics, ready for tomorrow's cycling and sightseeing!"