I still don’t know why streets were so little in medieval times.
There were no cars obviously, but surely roads would be designed to allow the free passage of people? Not to mention the occasional (small) horse and (even smaller) cart?
This miniscule street also has modern reinforcement, not a very comfortable sight but I’ve seen plenty of steel beams holding up houses all over Sicily. This little street has a wooden contraption propping up the house walls on each side.
I’m guessing it’s safe.
It better be, it’s where I’ve rented an appartamento for five nights.
Here’s my front door.
And here’s the view of the lilliputian lane running at right angles to my front door.
The arch in the street – lane – is 16th century so it’s been there at least 450 years.
I’ll show you a better view of the arch, although it’s not an arch anymore. The top bit, the arched bit fell down during one of the many bombing raids of World War 11.
I sometimes wonder if the Sicilians keep these war wounds as a proud memory of survival just as the Russians have kept the scars in Stalingrad.
I have a clothesline, see?
I have a little wall shrine just around the bend too.
I wanted to write a little “From my balcony in Trapani”, but there’s really nothing to see apart from the walls of the lane.
Unless you take a half dozen steps around the next curve, then another half dozen steps down for a delightful view of the harbour.
The harbour is really something to write home about. It’s a deep harbour with lots of little boats, fishing boats and pleasure craft bobbing up and down and the really big ships can come right up next to the lungomare. It’s beautiful. Even when it’s raining.
It rained for most of the time I was there but I have a fondness for grey skies and I always wanted to see Trapani. This little place was one of the most important ports during the Crusades.