There is a bar along the busy avenue that runs alongside the port of Castellammare del Golfo. I wouldn't call it a place that stands out, certainly not the kind of place that would immediately catch my eye: vaguely minimal in style, black sofas, dark floors. Who would have ever thought it would become my bar!
I enter the Vogue every morning since I've been here, greet the guys behind the counter, and order breakfast. Then I turn to record firmly in my mind the image of the gentleman with the gray beard and long, unkempt hair who, like every day, sits there with his laptop on his knees, with a game of solitaire in progress. I wonder who he is, what his name is, if he is alone, and if he has ever noticed being one of the small details etched into my memories of this place.
I get up from the table and start walking along the street paved with white stones that reflect the midday light so much that they almost make me squint. It comes naturally to look up towards the mountains that embrace the town in a basin that descends to the sea.
The small harbor is packed with boats; among these, Giusi and Marco's is surely parked as well. I sharpen my gaze and there they are! I see them busy working on their boat "Zingaronboat": the grit with which they were able to reinvent themselves and set sail towards new possibilities is enviable! I throw a greeting from afar. They reply with a nod that I translate as "see you later," so I leave them to work and continue my walk.
I almost reach the terrace below the castle, turn right, and go up the stairs. I say good morning to the friendly gentleman who daily occupies 그 corner of the street and offers passers-by a taste of his almonds. Alas, I am not a lover of dried fruit, and so, like every time, I decline the invitation with a smile.
I continue towards the main street of the town, which is still slowly waking up. I walk, enveloped in the silence of the many shops and venues that are still closed.
The rhythm of life is wonderfully calmer in Castellammare.
I pass the bank, the pastry shop, the Roxy Bar, and arrive at the greengrocer under my house; I buy a peach and observe him. He is one of the legendary characters of this place: very few teeth in his mouth, olive skin, an always gloomy and suspicious air; he spends his afternoon siesta dozing on a small armchair on the opposite side of the street, and it is even rumored that at night he doesn't go home but sleeps inside his shop. Perhaps for fear that someone might start on his watermelons, who knows...
As the afternoon passes, the shutters reopen, the noise increases, and tables and chairs are arranged in the streets.
It's aperitivo time! I head down towards the 'quattro canti', pass by the restaurant "La Maidda" and give a nod of greeting to the waiter who recognizes me. I laugh heartily thinking about how convincingly a few nights ago we downed a quarter-liter of limoncello at the table as a remedy for sleep.
But let's move on... Here I am at Malandrino! Ignazio is sitting on the stool next to the barrel outside the door, sipping a glass of white wine. As soon as he sees me, he gets up, gives me an affectionate hug, and pours a glass for me too as I sit beside him. There are a lot of people chatting on the pallets outside the place. "The idea of using chairs as backrests is beautiful!", I always repeat to him. Stefi comes out: "Marghe, do you want something to snack on?". What a woman!
I finish my glass and resume my tour. I notice Rosario from afar, drinking a beer at the entrance of his Quemado Bar, and at the pizzeria Mamacocha right next door, I catch a glimpse of Fabio who doesn't notice me: he is concentrated on cooking the best pizzas in town!
From here you can already feel the energy coming from the Picolit Pub: tonight there is live music and it's full of people! I carefully step over the crowds of kids perched on the steps, manage to elbow my way to the door, and see Matte and Dani drowned by the crowd waiting to order. I blow them both a kiss from a distance before heading towards the long staircase that goes back down to the port.
From this glimpse between the buildings you can see the sea, the light is red above the horizon: the sun must have set recently. I walk and, behind the curve, I decide to make a stop at Mirko's Ristorante. I stop for a moment to observe it from the side of the road. It is an intimate and elegant place in just the right way.
Fede is serving the tables; he saw me but can't let his guard down, so he limits himself to waving "hello" with his hand: he is always very professional. I don't want to disturb him, so I go down almost stealthily, trying not to step on the little kitten Pinuzza who is sleeping curled up. In front of the blue door of the restaurant, I peek in timidly and ask if I can enter. I go all the way to the back and knock on the kitchen glass to be seen. I lean against the small window where the orders arrive; Walter is animatedly tossing pans at the stove, he turns: "Marghe, grab a fork!" and hands me a small plate with something good to eat. Then Mirko comes out the door, I throw my arms around his neck while he tries to wriggle away. "Come on Marghe, I smell!", I smile. So I decide to leave the artists to their inspiration and head towards the exit.
I finish descending the steps until I find myself in front of the sea again. The streetlights of the port obscure the stars, but the bright light of the crescent moon stands out against the black of the waves. I breathe deeply the warm-humid wind; it's Scirocco, the experts say the weather will change tomorrow.
I sit on the low wall and stay still, listening. I wonder why some places, compared to others, vibrate in your spirit and so quickly become home. What a struggle it will be tomorrow to let go of the little piece of me that will remain caught here! Nostalgia squeezes me and tears well up.
Then, like a flash, a phrase comes back to my mind and suddenly everything lightens: maybe it's simply true that "sometimes subtracting means adding".
Places in the story
Bar Vogue Bar along the port avenue. Breakfast every morning.
Zingaronboat Giusi and Marco's boat, for sea trips along the Zingaro coast.
La Maidda Restaurant near the 'quattro canti'.
Malandrino Wine bar with pallets outside the door. Run by Ignazio and Stefi.
Quemado Bar For a beer after the aperitivo. Run by Rosario.
Pizzeria Mamacocha "The best pizzas in town". Run by Fabio.
Picolit Pub Pub with live music, always full of people.
Mirko's Ristorante Intimate and elegant restaurant with the blue door. Run by Mirko, Walter, and Fede (and the kitten Pinuzza).