End of March to the end of April 2001. Sicily away from the blah of Palermo, and on yer bike was, in hindsight, it. Dont miss Villa Romana nr Piazza Armerina, and watch the dudes running "Tours" up Etna from Camping Jonio in lovely Catania ("if we get out of here without asbestosis, asthma or a puncture, God is smiling."). Get the bus, cos both end up in the carpark of the Refuge.

Read the history - it took me a while to see past all the indifference to the urban environment. At least if you drop the chain, you only have to look a few meters for a bit of plastic or paper to protect those soft smooth fingers from all that yukky grease. Bikes are not made for the cities, I think. We went on to the mainland, but somehow this was the best part of three months.

Sicily has been the lynchpin of the Med for topside of four millenia. Invaded by all and ruled by none. Kinda get that impression in the Kalsa still. Read Peter Robb's book "Midnight in Sicily" if you can. er will write more eh?