Sicily Awaits the Spice Girls

No worries people, i am still very much here and still very much blogging! It's taken me a while to get the complete Sicilian experience into words, but all 5,ooo words of it is done, dusted and chronicled. I am likely to publish it in sections everyday or so ... so watch this space for the next entry...

There were four new girls landing in Catania...

The week leading up to the girls arriving in Sicily, The Sicilian made sure to do his PR. He let every shop owner, friend, business affiliate, street sweeper and club owner know that there were four new girls landing in Catania in the next few days. I was asked to show pictures, give brief character descriptions and inform them of their marital status. The Sicilian would revel in the excitement that he was creating – four women from London coming to Catania! It wasn’t long before the Catanese people thought they knew the girls and had even coined them ‘The Spice Girls.’

Tuesday finally arrives, me and the Sicilian have our last lunch with the family, take a quick siesta and then begin to prepare for the big arrival. On the way to the hotel we go to the Sicilian’s godfather’s supermarket where we put together a little welcome pack for the girls – this surprisingly consists of alcohol; the pack contains Local red wine for three Euros, rose and Fragolino, a deep red sparkling wine made with strawberries. I struggle to the counter holding the six bottles of alcohol - the Sicilian looks at me disapprovingly, ‘Don’t you think you’ll need some food?’ I pick up a bag of crisps and we check out.

We rush to the Cucaracha, (where me and the girls are staying) a beach resort owned by two powerful Catanese families and good friends of the Sicilian. I get ready at lightning speed, it’s quarter to eight in the evening, the big arrival happens at nine and by ten thirty we have to be at The Garden for aperitivo. The girls are yet to find out that they have less than an hour to be ready before we hit the bars and clubs.

There they are, waving, jumping, blowing kisses with huge grins...

The Sicilian and I stand in Catania Fontanarossa airport – I seem to be attracting a slight crowd, it’s probably not often that women in airports are dressed in Zebra Print dresses and huge towering heels. Trust me, it looks tasteful! So, once again we are stood at the frosted glass doors, waiting apprehensively. I can’t help but notice that the Sicilian seems far more excited than I am – he can’t wait to show off his country! The doors open then close, open then close – there’s no sight of the girls, the clock is ticking, time is running away leaving less time for them to get back to the resort, get ready and head out to The Garden. The doors open again and some pale, back pack carrying people arrive, me and the Sicilian decide they must be British and must have got off the same plane as the girls. The doors close and then open once again – there they are, waving, jumping, blowing kisses with huge grins plastered across their faces. Well – apart from frequent flyer Angel Rae, who seems to be cool, calm and as though she’s been here twenty times over. Kimmie Parker, who I was told had sent out instructions for all girls to travel in heels, is wearing Carvela wedges – evidently her fellow flyers never listened.

The Garden

Dressed to impress, a bottle of wine in the back of the car being shared out into plastic cups we head towards the coast for drinks at The Garden. On our journey the Sicilian acts as a tour guide, he ensures that all bags are kept on the floor and never on laps and that the door remain locked at all times. It has been known for thieves to smash the car windows in order to grab purses and bags. This seems to freak Kimmie out more than expected and when driving through what you might call ‘ghetto’ ensures that not only do we have doors locked, but that we keep our windows up and make eye contact with nobody.
We arrive, The Garden is an outdoor bar, situated on a roof terrace. The terrace is lit with pinks and purples and dotted with Olive trees, a DJ playing eighties funk in an open space towards the end of the terrace, located opposite a complimentary buffet. The complimentary buffet and food is common practice in Sicily, particularly in bars, they often don’t serve drinks without a mini pizza, a bread crumbed mozzarella ball, mini arrancini or at the, least some fruit. Of course we find our spot by the buffet - eyeing up the food eagerly, a little apprehensive to go and help ourselves, all but Genevieve. She helps herself to a plate, gets her food and begins to munch away – it doesn’t take long before the rest follow suit. As usual the Sicilian asks the bar man to make us a deadly cocktail, which consists of three different vodkas; peach, strawberry and normal, with proesecco and strawberry syrup. The cocktail, as you can imagine takes effect very quickly and amongst The Garden patrons we begin to dance to the eighties music. Aperitivo consists of dressing up, heading out to the location of the night, meeting friends, acquaintances and associates, having a drink, maybe two and some general chit chat to get you in the mood for the rest of the night, very rarely do you see the locals singing, dancing and drinking the way we were – for the first time is Sicily we stood out and I didn’t care. We spent the rest of our time at The Garden taking pictures, laughing and dancing – The Sicilian’s sister – the organiser of our night tells us it’s time to head on to our second location for the night.

Benacherino

We pull into the club grounds and are directed to the club’s private car park. As we step out of the car we can hear the music booming from in the open field, however we can’t seem to locate where exactly the club might be. Our six inch heels digging into the ground, and drinks from The Garden in our hands in plastic cups we make our way to the unidentifiable nightclub. Not knowing what to expect evokes some nerves and excitement amongst us, Angel Rae continues to tell me that she feels nervous and isn’t quite sure why. Strange for a girl who has travelled half the world?

It oozes a sexy exoticness and is simply breathtaking...

Benacherino is a club situated in a botanical garden, huge deep green trees loom over us and the plants and flowers that surround us are amazing, it oozes a sexy exoticness and is simply breathtaking. Drinks in hand we hit the open dance floor and we dance the early hours of the morning in, locals stand around to watch these strange specie ‘the non-Italian’ enjoying themselves on their land, dancing up a storm. And dance up a storm, yes we do!

We dance in the open air till it rains, Gi Gi, Angel Rae and myself try to dance underneath a panel that shields us from the rain, Genevieve continues to gyrate in the rain, flicking her red hair about – we all know that subconsciously she is re-enacting a scene from J-lo’s Waiting for Tonight video and Kimmie Parker – well...? She reappears with a Sicilian on her tail, she claims that the attention he is giving is unwanted, of course, neither of them being unable to speak the same language can be Kimmie’s only excuse for bouncing about the club with the man without communicating her discomfort!

Prima Tavola Calda...

We leave Benacherino, miraculously our two car entourage has increased by another two cars and a mo- ped. The Sicilian’s sister tells us the addendum to our group are acquaintances of the ‘hello, goodbye’ quantity, that want to witness and take part in as much of the London Sicilian experience as possible. So all thirteen of us go to L'Etoile, the Tavola Calda bar, situated near the arches in Catania’s centre. Tavola Calda is the Sicilian fast food, translating ‘Hot Table,’ and serves a vast selection of sweets and savouries, typical of Tavola Calda is; Arrancini, a ball of rice coated in bread crumbs which can be filled with Bolognese or mozzarella and ham. Pastries filled with Frankfurters and Mozzarella with black olives, Bolognese sauce with mozzarella, ham and mozzarella, onions, Bolognese and Mozzarella, Aubergines’ with Mozzarella and Bolognese, Pizzetta’s (small pizza’s) and that’s just to name a few. And the Sicilian being the reign of the sweet food, the cakes, pastries, cannoli, tarts, pies, cornetto’s (croissant filled with marmalade, Nutella, white Nutella) are decadent, rich and indulgent. The food is presented beautifully behind a glass counter triple the size of a deli you’d generally find in Sainsbury’s. The arrangement and immensity of the food is overwhelming, and when we entered the Tavola Calda bar I’m pretty sure we all shared one thought, ‘How much can we eat?’

After getting over the party going on in our stomachs at the excitement of food, we made our selections and grabbed a corner where all thirteen of us sat, the men watched in amazement at the speed and ease of the food disappearing. And of course we all went in for round two, none of us being particularly hungry, the girls wanting to sample as much Sicilian cuisine as possible (even though they had all week to do so) and my excuse was – well, I just love Sicilian cuisine. The bar offered us all a free glass of Prosecco and complimentary cakes, we continued to eat and drink some more while we discussed how good the food was, the Sicilian struggled to make plans with us for tomorrow and decided, ‘We’ll go for something to eat in the morning and then decide.’

After a few nights of no sleep, sharing a double bed in between Kimmie Parker aka snoring bull and Angel Rae aka selfish duvet hoarder I begin to accept that this holiday will not involve much sleep. Genevieve, unable to politely wait for people to wake up in the mornings looms over the beds, singing, ‘Anybody up?’ and the Sicilian before we’re washed and dressed is knocking on our door, coaching us to get ready and get out for the events planned for the day.

Our days generally didn’t start without eating Tavola Calda and sipping a glass of Prosecco to set us up. We’d eat enough to keep us full until the evenings, when we’d head out for dinner then on to a bar or a club.

The Sicilian took us to Mount Etna, where we braved the freezing cold and harsh winds and looked at houses that had been destroyed by the active volcano. After leaving Etna we went to the Botanical Garden’s where we trailed through Olive Tree groves and walked through botanical waters set in deep gauges.

The journey home was a long one where I was unfortunately forced to listen to the shrill, deafening singing of LaRoux or the life threatening 'singing' of Angel Rae – as much as I have taken a disliking to La Roux, this was the preference over Angel.

The weather back in Catania had taken a turn for the worst, torrential rain fell, lightning split the sky and although GiGi had a moment of anger about the weather we remained in high spirits, determined to have a great holiday. . .

Sphere: Related Content