February 28, 2008: Santa Maria La Scala, Italy A train rushed past on the side of the hill, its rhythmic gait gently waking me, reminding me that I shall, for the first time, be taking a train and leaving Sicily behind. There is a lot more of Sicily I would have liked to have seen, but time and circumstance have prevented any such excursions, as they were on the other side of the island. Eat, shower, dress, wander--the routine I had become accustomed to. This morning, however, was different. A camper pulled in last evening while I was resting in my tent. My finely tuned skills of deduction led me to believe that the couple who emerged from it that morning were English. Perhaps it was the soccer (football) shorts, perhaps it was the ears and
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