Wednesday, June 8

In the morning, my host brought me a warm croissant and a nice coffee right on time, at 7:30, as agreed – however, it took me forever to get ready that morning- I was apparently getting a bit tired. To make matters worse, when I did finally leave, I noticed my front tire (the one I patched two days earlier) was again soft on air. This time, being in a larger town, I found a bike shop, where the problem was taken care of. I felt to be truly in Italy, we were singing “Cantare” all together with the mechanics and customers while my bike was being repaired.The croissant was not quite enough, I got a nice sandwich close to mid-day (yes, it was actually quite late!), I left town and after a rather ugly-looking oil refinery, I spotted a wonderful sandy beach, completely isolated. I was really happy to see the multilingual sign saying "swimming prohibited", as I could affix my bike to it.

After the refreshing swim, I was surprised to see glass houses - not one, not two, literally hundreds of these - lining the coast - all growing tomatoes. I was a bit strange, as it was anyhow hot out there, then someone I later asked explained these glass houses are actually meant for wintertime.

A huge herd of sheep crossed my path from the coast, think they have never seen a biker. I was wondering whether they were returning from their swimming lesson.

Now I was headed towards the next Unesco World Heritage destination - the baroque towns of Ragusa and Noto – so, after some hesitation, I left the coastline. The road was sooo nice, flanked by flowers as far as the eye could see.

I came to a pretty town called Vittoria, where I cooled down at a McDonald's on the outskirts It was not long after that I reached Comiso, a town with wonderful churches, a main square with Roman mosaics - all of this at the bottom of a hill. Comiso was one of the very few towns which offered public access to running fresh water - I drank like a gallon and slashed it all over my body to get refreshed - somewhat at least.

After a sandwich and some granita, a local sort of frozen dessert, I started pushing uphill - although it was late in the afternoon, it was still rather hot. The road was not all too wide with quite some traffic and many switchbacks, but offered wonderful views down to Comiso and even to the coast, which was not all too far.

I made it up to Ragusa and was first somewhat disappointed- yes, there was a nice church, an imposing public square - but is this the world heritage I came to admire? I was a bit confused.

Soon, at some tourist information place, I found out that I was in the lower towna nd it was Ragusa Ibla, the upper town, that was the main attraction. So I rode on, took a turn and suddenly a fabulous view spread out just ahead of me - an old town with narrow streets and baroque buildings and churches covered a hilltop opposite me. It was sunset and the was quite amazed, Together with some other tourists, we were staring at this site in awe.

A major earthquake hit Sicily in 1693, when the towns of this area had to be rebuilt- and they a used the style of that era - which happens to be baroque.It was then that my plight began. It was evening time and I thought of finding a spot for wild camping – but the area was quite populated and the town was so nice, that I thought it would be better to stay. So I started looking for a place and was quite surprised to have found a room for just Eur 25 on booking.com - and that in the historic part of town. Wow, what luck. So I dropped from the lower town - a misnomer, as it was quite high, to the bottom of the upper town, where my room was supposed to be. I found the address, (and as usual), no one was to be found there. I found a neighbor, who said he had no idea that rooms were rented there. I called my host, who did not reply. When he finally picked up the phone (on the 10th trial or so), he told me that place was closed out and that my accommodation was back on the other part of Ragusa, at the top of the hill where I dropped down from.I swore somewhat, especially as the address the host gave was not precise - and needed like half an hour of heavy pushing to make it. I was quite frustrated, as he again did not answer my calls. Finally, he did and gave me the precise address. Why not indicate that in in the first place? This was just the precursor of the bad things, when I entered the apartment, it was by far the most disgusting place I had been to in a long time – or even ever?The place was still being built and my room was a hole with a rather uncomfortable camping bed, which collapsed partially under me during the night. The bathroom had wires running freely, there was no mirror installed, with dirty floors. When flushing or opening the tap, a loud motor started running. Even worse, he was just making dinner for himself, some sausages, it stank the place. The host, a person from Moscow, a so-called “grand doctor” of philosophy and history, was not unfriendly, but very weird. He ate his dinner directly from the pan. He and his dog (also not with the best smell) slept in room next to mine.

I had a big bag of laundry which he agreed to wash, but when the machine started, the electricity went out in the entire house. He tried again and then again. He told me not to worry and that one of the three Argentinian life guards, who were his tenants on the second floor, would take care of it during the night.

It was not the best nights that I have ever had, sleeping in a prison cell in an otherwise wonderful town.