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" bumpy, winding roads, where the road surface at regular intervals fails and you are catapulted hundreds of feet on gravel and stones, lead us right into the village.
The small town in the province of Enna runs everything around a path, one that crosses across the town. Small shops and the people busy daily activities.
And whatever information you might want to ask, one answer you'll have to listen to "Straight". Whether up or down, but we need to go straight. Unless you decide to stop for a moment to sample the local specialties: the Tortona, fried dough with sugar and cinnamon. It 's so tasty that they thought to reserve a festival.
Sperlinga The real attraction is the castle, however, partly excavated on the rock and probably dating from the tenth century. BC crossing in a very short time the small town, parked on the right side of the road on foot and climb a short stretch of road that leads right up to the age-old building. Always there to welcome visitors might forget, you sell tickets and then you open the gate. Time to check out the photos of Robert Capa that governs in all its glory as one route to the castle and a lady over there on the left is Grandma Mary. I ask how you instinctively do to live in this place - these are the words I wanted I could not even after being handed a second, but now the conversation had begun. And her grandmother, Maria, with its emphasis distinctly characteristic of the area, he replies that he could not imagine living anywhere else, that she Sperlinga's fine. And then, with his mischievous smile from her grandmother, who knows a lot, I asked about the reason for that question, as to why I could not imagine you can feel good even in the mountains, away from it all. Then invites us into his farm museum, where every day creates carpets and hand-sew rag dolls. He sits in his usual place and I bet again. I am tender, a life confined between hills in winter and cool in summer burning, the deafening silence of a place withdrawn, then the seasons and the years that follow always the same. Yet my mirror and saw reflected in his eyes the image of a man who feels lonely among so many people, while she laid on the chair of woven straw, a little 'bent forward, is the portrait of serenity. I would love to be able to take everything that makes Maria happy grandmother, I would keep close only the sea, not even three hours away and already I feel incredibly missed. The castle is waiting for us and then, with a touch of melancholy, we greet our new friend. We cross the gate and written in Latin leads us into the history engraved on the arch pointed arch of the vestibule we read the famous hexameter: "Quod Siculis placuit alone Sperlinga negavit (What pleased the Sicilians, was denied by Sperlinga only). In 1282, in fact, while Palermo began the revolt against the French - and from there broke out throughout the island - to present the Angevin Sperlinga barricaded inside the castle. For about a year the French were within walls of the besieged by the Aragonese, but helped by some local lords supplying them with food and weapons. So while the rest of Sicily, the French were expelled and massacred in the small town Enna found refuge and support. The story of Sperlinga is closely tied to that of his castle. Built in 1082, consists of thick walls made of stone, with steps carved into the rock, with rooms created by the rock mass and is well protected by natural barriers that surround it. Once inside, a hallway leads right into the manor: when human creativity is combined with the beauty of nature, the result is a rock shaped and transformed into a team capable of holding several horses, a workshop for metalworking, a prison and a warehouse for the goods. Continuing along the corridor we reach, then, the steep staircase leading to the tower: a spectacular panorama opens the eyes of visitors, Madonie one hand, Nebrodi Mount Etna on the other. It 'a land of enlightened minds, this, people have been surveying the turn of the tireless time in the wind of sultry satin and crushed stone.
Rather than climb the stairs you can also choose to descend into the underground where it was where the employees of the feudal lord. On the other point of the castle, then you can enjoy the view of the town forest, a remnant of the ancient forests of Sicily, where they live large prey and abundant game. Leaving the castle, the sensation is to have really used our time well. A slow flow of hands, quiet, respectful of nature sounds. It almost seems that nobody is staying in this place, but maybe it's just that people have learned not to bother, not to scream in order to feel alive. In fact you look around and notice beams of light on glass eyes in front of a window. And you convince yourself that this is a land of eyes that cut through the darkness. And 'one of the hearts of Sicily beats ceaselessly for millennia. From here, every place is far away, in every sense. "
