Our first taste of truly horrible weather came today. As our cab to La Rusticana ristorante wound our way to Ragusa’s old town, the Ibla, our driver ranted, “Look at this! We are not used to this kind of weather. I turn on the television to the news and they tell me the wind is coming straight from Siberia! We can’t imagine such a thing happening here! Siberia! We are only used to good weather!”
As we zip up the hill, there is no one. The town is completely deserted. We are following a bus.
“When you come back, you can call me to come or just take the bus.” he says.
“Where do you buy tickets late at night?” Martha asked.
“Oh, it’s all paid for by the commune. Just get on. It’s no problem.” Then he thought a moment and added. “Of course the tabacchi will sell tickets. They cost .80 Euro. But nobody buys them. Just get on the bus.”
In Florence you might get hit with a big fine if you followed his advice. In Ragusa we don’t know. We opted for the taxi ride back to our hotel. Who wants to wait for the bus when Siberian winds are at your door?