Palermo
On Monday we took a day trip to Palermo. I'm a little sad to say that until this point the furthest West we had been was to base. We've travelled North and South, but never very far West. We took the tour from an operation on base, they offer different tours every weekend throughout Sicily. The drive out there was really beautiful. The countryside had rolling hills with abandoned brick farm houses (you'll see a lot of these throughout Sicily), sheep and cows grazing, beautiful towns perched atop cliffs. It was wonderful, and made all the more so because we could sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
Palermo is about two and a half hours away, and is quite the bustling metropolis. I hadn't heard great things about the city, but was pleasantly surprised with what we saw. Though we didn't see much of the city, what we did see was quite beautiful. Our first stop was at a cathedral in a small town in the suburbs of Palermo called Monreale. What a gem! The town itself was adorable with small alleys leading towards the main square. On the outside the cathedral didn't look like much, but the inside was breathtaking.
Much of the interior of the church is bejeweled in beautiful glass mosaics. The entire top half of the church is covered in mosaics of scenes from the Bible, set on a mosaic gold background. The middle portion of the walls are large marble slabs divided by very intricate and geometric designs. While looking at them I tried to see if any two were the same, and I don't believe they were. I enjoyed looking at them all, they reminded me of when I was young (oh, so long ago!) looking through a kaleidoscope, enjoying all of the different designs that seemed infinite.
Around the church were many small shops. We stepped into one that was quite lovely, a mosaic shop. There was a man at his workbench with a small hammer and beautifully colored glass. He had a picture of Jesus that he was replicating. Each piece of glass was hammered to an appropriate size and the artist placed the glass in the corresponding location. The large pieces were quite expensive and very pretty. Van Gogh seemed to be a popular theme.
Our next stop was so surprising and morbid, I still can't believe that it actually exists and that people used to do such things. The catacombs. Not just catacombs, but the Palermo catacombs. I'm sure that there is no other place like it. I've been to a few catacombs in my travels, but this one was (I'm sorry to say) the creepiest and most unique of them all. The other catacombs that I've toured are much the same. They are underground tombs that are usually quite large and maze-like. They have niches in the walls where the bodies were stored. Our guide had warned us what we were about to see was a bit unconventional, but I wasn't prepared for what lay ahead.
The Capuchin monastery started placing bodies in the catacombs in the very late 16th century. However, they weren't placed in niches, in coffins, in the walls. Their bodies were drained of all organs and liquid, stuffed with hay, dressed in clothes loved ones would bring, and hung on the walls. That's right, hung on the walls. You can now pay three euros and fifty cents to take a macabre tour of the bodies. As soon as I hit the bottom of the stairs and looked around I felt like I was in a horror movie. My palms were sweating, my breathing was shallow, my heart was racing. I really thought about turning around and beating feet out those doors.
After I calmed down a bit I tried to appreciate what I was seeing. I find bodies fascinating. Once upon a time (before realizing how much studying and work went into it) I had wanted to practice medicine. I had really enjoyed going to the cadaver lab in my school and was often right next to the table with gloves on wanting to dig in, so to speak. But this, this freaked me out. There were skeletons hanging on the walls with some faces and hair intact. I swear some of those eye sockets were watching me as I passed by. Some of the faces were pleasant, like the old men with their teeth missing who looked like they were smiling. But some looked as though they had died in some sort of agony. The worst section was the babies, I won't even go down that road.
Though I've not yet (and don't wish to anytime soon) lost someone close to me, I can imagine what it must feel like. To know that you'll never be able to speak with that person again, tell them how much you love them, and how much they will be missed. I suppose I can understand that by doing something like this you feel as if part of the person is still there. You can go and visit them, see their face again. But I wonder if after it's done and you go back a week, a month, a year later if instead you are haunted by the ghost of the person you once knew and loved. That wouldn't be how I'd like to remember a person I'd lost.
One of the most famous 'inhabitants' was a little girl, age 2, known as Rosalie. Her parents had hired a doctor to prepare her for preservation in the catacombs. The doctor performed the procedure but died shortly after. His secrets were lost for decades, but have been recently discovered. He, in fact, embalmed the little girl. She is amazingly still intact to this day, and by far one of the better looking corpses. It looks as though she is only sleeping.
Or last stop was at another cathedral. I should probably have listened a bit better because I don't have an awful lot to say about the cathedral. After this stop we had some free time for lunch and a very quick look around. We had a wonderful time and look forward to returning to Palermo.
Palermo is about two and a half hours away, and is quite the bustling metropolis. I hadn't heard great things about the city, but was pleasantly surprised with what we saw. Though we didn't see much of the city, what we did see was quite beautiful. Our first stop was at a cathedral in a small town in the suburbs of Palermo called Monreale. What a gem! The town itself was adorable with small alleys leading towards the main square. On the outside the cathedral didn't look like much, but the inside was breathtaking.
The Capuchin monastery started placing bodies in the catacombs in the very late 16th century. However, they weren't placed in niches, in coffins, in the walls. Their bodies were drained of all organs and liquid, stuffed with hay, dressed in clothes loved ones would bring, and hung on the walls. That's right, hung on the walls. You can now pay three euros and fifty cents to take a macabre tour of the bodies. As soon as I hit the bottom of the stairs and looked around I felt like I was in a horror movie. My palms were sweating, my breathing was shallow, my heart was racing. I really thought about turning around and beating feet out those doors.
After I calmed down a bit I tried to appreciate what I was seeing. I find bodies fascinating. Once upon a time (before realizing how much studying and work went into it) I had wanted to practice medicine. I had really enjoyed going to the cadaver lab in my school and was often right next to the table with gloves on wanting to dig in, so to speak. But this, this freaked me out. There were skeletons hanging on the walls with some faces and hair intact. I swear some of those eye sockets were watching me as I passed by. Some of the faces were pleasant, like the old men with their teeth missing who looked like they were smiling. But some looked as though they had died in some sort of agony. The worst section was the babies, I won't even go down that road.
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| Photos weren't allowed inside, here are a few postcards we picked up. |
One of the most famous 'inhabitants' was a little girl, age 2, known as Rosalie. Her parents had hired a doctor to prepare her for preservation in the catacombs. The doctor performed the procedure but died shortly after. His secrets were lost for decades, but have been recently discovered. He, in fact, embalmed the little girl. She is amazingly still intact to this day, and by far one of the better looking corpses. It looks as though she is only sleeping.
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