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As Luis Sepulveda said: “Being Sicilian is something extraordinary, the aspect I love most of Sicily“.

Here is what I want to convey from Messina and transplanted to Milan.

When I think of my land, my beloved city I  can smell it immediately. Warm and inherent aromas of memories and love, love because this is what I feel when I think back to my childhood and adolescence spent in Messina.

The lightheartedness experienced during the summer and the “u piluni“, the tip of Messina. Where the island greets Reggio, from where you can see the Feluccas and with each of their strange movements one wonders if they have taken “u bellu pisci“.

Messina is large and includes simply beautiful villages in its territory, but this is obvious, what is not, however, is growing and living with the habits of the hinterland.

And here, on a typical hill stands Tripi, the village where one day twenty-five years ago my parents decided to buy land and build what is now the home of small dreams.

A villa in a completely isolated valley. Too isolated for my indomitable adolescence but perfect in this phase of maturity, where I can be grateful simply for the hammock mounted with love by my father, by his rocking accompanied by the sound of cicadas …

Ah, the cicadas!

In this village I always manage to spend my holidays and I find myself taking walks through these deserted and unlit alleys, searching in those houses and in those stones for the history that they could, indeed, that they surely hide.

As Camilleri said “u scrusciu du mari”

The sea, that will never cease to lose me, the sea is beautiful always and everywhere in my Messina. I never go away without a trip to the lakes of Marinello, in that strip of sand that divides the sea and that fascinates and enchants just looking at it.

The legend that my grandmother told me as a child to make me fall asleep tells that a mother asked for thanks for her sick daughter, the Madonna accepted her plea and healed her, but when the woman went to the altar to thank the black Madonna she was disappointed and exclaimed: “hajuvinutu di luntana via pividiri a una chiù brutta i mia!!”

Suddenly the girl fell from the top of the cliff, but the mother again asked for the grace of the Madonna and the Virgin made the miracle, she found the girl on a small beach formed in the sea below.

I come from this land full of stories, legends and bedtime tales handed down from father to son.

This is my Messina, this is Tripi, this is My Sicily.

 

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