Sicily is a gorgeous island. Or rather, it could be. It’s landscape is dotted with flat-roofed houses and blanketed with a patchwork of fig, citrus, olive and eucalypt trees. Prickly pears are par for the course, with the fruit of this succulent being sold in markets. Its volcanic past is evident in the mountains and valleys that form the island. The architecture is neo-classical; Sicilians seem proud of their Roman roots and also pay homage to the time Sicily was under Islamic rule.
But there is rubbish everywhere. Plastic bags and bottles are strewn alongside the main highway; the river is a dumping ground for old furniture and white goods. Garbage rots on footpaths. The graffiti here is worse than Rome. I find it sad that such a beautiful island is marred by trash.
Even in Cefalu, which is an seaside resort and also quite gorgeous, has a grotty underbelly. It’s clear that Cefalu is a tourist town, but the roads in and out are like a rubbish tip.
Sad really, that culture and history is not respected by those who are entrusted with its care.
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