You know it's summer in Sicily when...

1. All joggers and dog walkers have to wake up no later than 6.30 in order to avoid heat stroke
2. There is no difference between the hot water and cold water tap.
3. Luke warm is the new "cold"
4. Melons and Peaches overflow the fruit stands
5. There's a sudden spike in the mortality rate among the elderly due to heat stroke. It would not surprise me if that is how I'm finished off in my old age.
6. You haven't stopped sweating since June 20th.
7. You buy three new dresses just to stave off the moment when you have to leave the air conditioned shops
8. Every time you get up from a chair you can feel your skin reluctantly peeling away from the seat with a sweaty slurping sound.
9. The southern beaches, typically considered the "cold" beaches because of the open sea current, now feel like warm bath water.
10. Every morning when you get up a wet ring marks the bed like the chalk outline of a corpse.
11. The city experiences rolling black outs due to all the air conditioners left on all evening.
12. You can cook a pot roast just by placing it next to your laptop's cooling vent. 
13. The high winds, far from refreshing, feel like God turned on the world's largest hair dryer.
14. You can taste the humidity in the air. It does not taste good.
15. The average nightly temperature is 90F/32C... which is high noon temperature where I come from.

Peperoni, not Pepperoni

The first thing nearly every tourist wants once they have landed in Italy is pizza, shortly followed by gelato. So after waiting for the notoriously late opening hour of restaurants, American tourists will rush into the nearest pizzeria and gaze happily upon an Italian pizza menu.

Hopefully this menu won't have a word of English on it. Because let's face it, if you want genuine Italian pizza uninfluenced by the monotony of globalism, it shouldn't be in a glammed up tourist trap where every waiter speaks perfect British English.

It should be in a hole-in-the-wall where the pizza oven takes up more room than the seating area, and the menus are half in Italian and half in incomprehensible dialect.

This is by far the best way to eat pizza in Italy... with one drawback. How to figure out what you're getting on your pizza.

Meal Times and the Starving Tourist

The first time I visited Italy with my family we repeatedly found ourselves waiting outside dark restaurants, our tummy's rumbling, trying to catch a glimpse of movement. A waiter, a light flickering on the in kitchens, a sign posting opening time... anything to indicate that we would soon be able to eat dinner. Usually we would be the first clients to rush in at 7:00pm, and eat most of our meal in solitude before other people finally started trickling in.

I should point out that it is unusual for a restaurant to open at 7:00 in most parts of Italy... in less touristy areas they usually wait until 8:00.

Dogs of Sicily

Italy, Sicily in particular, has a dirty secret. Everyone knows about the terrible traffic. The politics are the butts of jokes worldwide. Petty theft is mentioned in every guide book. The litter filled streets are eventually accepted as "normal".

But there is one thing I had been totally unprepared for, and it will never cease to bother me.

The dogs.

Dogs can be creepy smart...

Early evening, on the way to Nonna Michela's in Caltanissetta.

We're sitting at the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green as a small group of pedestrians pass in front of us. AmoreMio nudges me and points out the stray dog that has decided to cross in the wake of the pedestrians. (He knows I've got a weakness for anything that wags its tail.)

As we watch, the people continue on towards a shop, but the dog stops at the corner of the intersection and sits down with its back to us, vaguely watching the opposite corner.

The stray dogs in Sicily do this all the time, just take a break wherever they like. Tired? Just lie down... no matter if it's in the middle of the road. Cars will go around me.

I figured this one was just a bit wiser than the other dogs, and had decided to take his break on the sidewalk instead of in front of traffic.

I witness the psychological abuse of a Citroen

The car: Papa's Citroen c5, built low and wide for stability on the highway.

The street: about as wide as a motorbike... at least to my easily intimidated eye. To the eyes of Papa', who has years of experience battling the tiny streets, it's an opportunity to demonstrate the Italian ability to alter the laws of physics through shear will power.

The danger of figs

Mistakes are something anyone learning a new language must get used to... because they will happen a lot. And always in the worst way.

Take, for example, the unfortunate day when I decided to brush up on my fruit vocabulary at the dinner table with AmoreMio's family. His father was helping me name various items in the fruit bowl when I delved, rather recklessly, into the realm of figs. 

My sister's a P*ttana

It's beach season! Despite generous lathering of waterproof 50spf and keeping to the shade as much as possible, I still managed to get a bit pink. Don't judge until you've tried surviving a sunny day at 105+ degrees F (40+ C).

It was an especially fun day though because AmoreMio's cousin and her children were able to join us. (They don't live in Caltanissetta, so visits with them are relatively rare).

To top it off, her little 2-year-old boy made me feel better about some of the stupid mistakes I make in Italian.