I MedTrekked 6,869 kilometers to arrive at Sicily’s Riviera dei Ciclopi, or the Cyclops’ Coast, for an intentionally slow Sunday stroll.
Why did I want to have a very easy and mellow day?
First I intended to savor the moment that I set my eyes on The Rocks of the Cyclops, the sharp black lava boulders that many claim Polyphemus blindly threw at Odysseus as the Greek warrior sailed away after their confrontation. Then I very carefully and patiently wanted to check out these protruding ebony gems mentioned in Homer’s “Odyssey.”
As I began the day’s MedTrek south of Catania I tried to contain my excitement by simply observing the calm Mediterranean Sea and Sicilian sunbathers to my right and beaming Mount Etna and African sunglasses peddlers to my left. I pretended not to have any expectations.
I got my first view of The Rocks from the top of the Norman Castle, which like everything else of that vintage around here is built from black lava, in Aci Castello. I immediately concluded that the Cyclops didn’t have a great throwing arm. He obviously needed a bit more oomph to toss The Rocks beyond the little Island of Lachea to reach Odysseus’ ship.
When I arrived in Aci Trezza, which is the hub of the Cyclops’ Coast, I spent a lot of time investigating The Rocks. I photographed the Faraglioni dei Ciclopi (the Italian translaton sounds a lot more significant than “The Rocks of Cyclops”) from different angles, swam around them, watched them interacting with sunbathers, and kept an eye on them during a leisurely lunch. I even took another photograph from Cape Mulini as I left them in the dusk.
Basically, I spent half the day looking at a few rocks.
Why?
Because next week — using some revolutionary algorithms given to me by the mathematics/physics departments at University of Palermo — I’m climbing up, over, around and in volcanic, lava-producing Mount Etna (which is no “plane in the ash” like its Icelandic counterpart) to try to pinpoint the exact spot from which Polyphemus threw The Rocks. I’m also going to visit the nearby Cyclope Commercial Center, a big mall, to see if there are any clues there about the whereabouts of his cave. And I’ll determine whether there have been any Cyclops’ sightings this month.
Will I succeed?
Watch this space.
Incidentally, The Rocks and Sicilian sunbathers weren’t the only things on my mind when I concluded my 30-kilometer seaside MedTrek in Acireale yesterday. I remembered why the names of all the towns around here (the three I’ve mentioned plus Aci Bonaccorsi, Aci Catena, Aci Platani, Aci San Filippo, Aci Santa Lucia and Aci Sant’Antonio) begin with “Aci.”
I promise to tell you about the Cyclops’ role in that story, which also involves the shepherd Acis and the sea nymph Galatea, in the sequel to “The Idiot and the Odyssey: Walking the Mediterranean.”
Then, as I sat on a bench in the Piazzo Duomo in Acireale eating a cono of banana gelato, another mystery presented itself.
Text and Photos: Joel Stratte-McClure
You can find The Idiot between Acireale and Messina right here:
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