You can walk from Taormina to Castelmola.  They are only half a mile apart.  However, the walk will last about ninety minutes; it’s a 1000’ vertical climb.  We decided to cab it for 15 Euro.  

Roads here are very circuitous, a gauntlet for those prone to car sickness.  Around and around we drove until arriving at this little mountaintop paradise.  The roads in town are tiny, as are the cars, which create this enveloping feeling.  

About 1,100 people live here full time.  Most Italians own second homes in this area, which they rent to tourists for obscene amounts of money June through August.  

Castelmola is the highest point in the immediate area, with near eye-level views of Mt Etna.  I saw several locals at the castle, which overlooks the town, contemplatively watching Etna.  I’d sooner shoot myself then do a week long meditation and yoga retreat, but I could easily spend a week staring at the volcano while contemplating life and my corner of the universe.  Defensively, the castle is a no-brainer.  You could see potential invaders for miles and miles.

If I ever wanted to disappear, these small villages clinging to mountains are where I’d go.  Remote does not adequately describe it.  Most younger people have left because jobs are scarce.  Small economies are fragile and don’t offer room for upward mobility.  Restaurants and tourist shops are basically it.  Construction jobs are done by immigrants.

For those with us during the New Zealand trip last year, you might remember this passage:

The central area [of Queenstown] boils down to three distinct storefront types.  One part consists of shops where you pay exorbitant amounts of money to try and kill yourself.  In summer, you bungee jump.  In winter, you heli-ski down slopes of fresh, virginal powder.  Or ski dive.  Or jet-boat.  A second part consists of shopping.  After surviving your death defying leaps of faith, stop by high-end clothing retailers (for the Europeans and Koreans) or cheap stuff (for the Chinese).  Finally, finish off a day of almost dying and shopping by eating food and drinking to excess.  Cycle of modern life.  

This area seems to be adopting a similar economic approach.  Risk your life by paragliding, skiing, or snowboarding.  Take a hike up Etna and get close to the active crater.  Jet ski in the cold, ocean water.  Afterwards, hop up to Taormina and shop, shop, shop.  Done buying cool Italian clothes?  Well, then, have a seat and eat!  Let the good wines flow!  Or, stay down by the shore in Giardini Naxos and party at the clubs till dawn.   

I wondered where the paragliders landed, since the terrain for miles seemed inhospitable to landing, and if surviving that landing, getting down.  After watching them for some time, I think the beach must have been the place.  

We walked down from Castelmola, which was easier aerobically but harder on knees and thighs.  

My knee, knowing surgery is imminent, has started behaving for the first time since October.  Go figure.  (The surgeon said it’s common once surgery is scheduled for symptoms to abate, albeit temporarily.)  My compatriots think the Sicilian air and lifestyle are to blame, and suggest I should just stay here.  Another theory was the stresses of traveling pull focus away from the malfunctioning joint.  I suspect some sort of placebo effect is at work.  I am at once annoyed and glad.  It’s good it stopped catching and giving way.  On the other hand, surgery seems superfluous currently.  (I’m still going through with it, though.) 

Many cities in Italy built on the tops of these sheer cliffs face an uncertain future.  As rocks fall away and erode, so do homes’ foundations.  Beneath the town, we saw a serious effort through aircraft cable and fencing to keep rocks in place. 

I was continually struck by the beauty of the town and views.  However, the town’s near desertion hints at forces not so beautiful.  Many visit for the curiosity of it all, but nobody seems to stay.  While the population explodes in summer, tourists alone do not a functioning city make.