As we checked out this morning, the younger generation of Fazios was at the front desk, and they were apparently the English speakers in the family.  We learned that a bridge was out over the river near town, which accounted for the lengthy detour of yesterday.  This countryside is so hilly with so little infrastructure that when something like this happens, you literally have to go all the way up the valley to the headwaters of the river to get around it.  Amazing that they didn’t just throw a Bailey bridge in place for the benefit of commercial traffic like all the trucks and buses we passed on the detour.

We walked around downtown a bit in the daylight, still windy but a bit warmer, and then headed across the interior of the island towards Cefalu.  We wanted to again try to see the Mafia museum, which we had learned was actually in an interior town named, fittingly, Corleone.  Much of the interior part of the island is really beautiful, especially this time of year when there are lush green hillsides that in summer will be a dried out brown color.  In addition, the landscape is dotted with old broken down stone buildings, a haunting atmosphere of decay.  By the time we arrived in Corleone, it was lunch time and we barely managed to grab a slice of pizza before everything closed up for the 1:00 to 4:00 siesta (we have still not learned to beware of that timing).  Furthermore, the museum was closed until 4:30, which was too late for our purposes (Phyllis refuses to drive after dark over the winding narrow regional roads).  However Corleone was still worth the visit.  We happened upon a local band, 20 or so strong, that marched up to a plaza, played a couple of great songs at 1 p.m., and then marched off down the street, still playing.  No indication of what was the occasion, but very cool. 

Despite the seemingly obvious connection, none of the Godfather movies’ Italian scenes were filmed in Corleone.  However, we learned that the family name of Corleone in the Mario Puzo books was intentionally chosen because this town was historically an infamous Mafia stronghold.  Now, the “anti-Mafia” museum is a source of civic pride, although one never really knows how strong the undercurrent remains.

We made it home to Cefalu in time to order a spit-roasted chicken for supper from the neighborhood frigeteria.   Another successful road trip under our belts.