Days 27 – It’s not too salty for you sir? . . .

All life is dependent upon the right balance. A fine dividing line. Too much of one thing, or not enough of the other, can quickly bring change. Have an effect. Make or break. Like a high-wire act. One misplaced movement and the salt cellar tumbles.

This morning we tumble along nicely to the Saline flats just short of Marsala. Previously unaware that it was famous for anything other than fortified wine. We get to learn about the whole salt making operation. A working process that’s been harvesting one of life’s essentials for eons. A delicate balance between sea, wind and sun ensures an endless supply. The control of water levels using sluice gates and Archimedean screws, gradually increases the salt concentration until it precipitates and shimmers. Then it’s time to get the shovels out.

The flat salty matrix, purposefully interconnected.
Getting ready for take off – it’s constantly mega windy in this region
No shortage of sun or wind on this west coast as it blusters the Sicilian flag into life.
A bad hair day? An omen of things to come? Perhaps?

We recently promised ourselves that we would never. As in never. Do more than one ‘thing’ in a day. Being so close to the town of Marsala and the fact that it’s on the way to our next site, blows that out of the window. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Of course, with Beastie we always need suitable parking. Not always straight forward with these old towns and narrow streets. But ever the optimist and with a little too much confidence, we venture forth. Guided by Missy, today’s nomination for twat of the year. My most used onboard catch phrase is “Are you sure this is right?” The second and rhetorical one is “This can’t possibly be right”

This twelve second clip has been severely edited. Other favorite catch phrases not deemed appropriate. At this point the gate ahead gives a clear indication that we are not where we should be. Again!

Are we mad?

Like a servant bowing down as he backs away from his lord and master, Beastie slowly reverses for fear of more consequence.

No! Just completely insane.

Our walk into old town becomes a slog too far. We throw in the towel. After all, tomorrow is another day.