The collapsed columns, the heaps of marble, the half standing temples, vivid symbols of human creativity and destructiveness. We walk down the beach to the little harbour where the day'' catch is being auctioned. Marinella is a deserted sea resort and everyone is fixing things, including the road in front of our room with the view. Maari has an ear infection and needs evacuation by bus to Agrigento, Phil nursing her. We ride among fertile coastal plains to Sciacca, where in the vibrant harbour, people huddle pick-up trucks to buy crates of fish as they are downloaded from the boats.
Action then shifts to another oncoming boat.
Meanwhile our kind pensione landlord was celebrating Father's day with a feast of 50 fried rice balls. The wind mercifully changed direction and it powerfully pushed us among orange groves or along the tempestuous sea. At Eraclea, after a quick visit to the Greek theatre, we take a walk on the beach. The wind is roaring, long surfing waves sweep the beautiful arc of sand and as I play and run with an Alsatian in the water, the joy of being alive. We cycle inland and it is a great ride to Agrigento among wonderful mountains.