It’s odd how many people seem to think that being in Sicily in the age of Covid19 means you just go to the beach. If only. Just day 3 of the lockdown and Im bored witless. I have a long list of DIY tasks to do, but cant go and buy the necessary stuff, nor can I nip to the library or buy a book. Worst of all, in my little self commiserating bubble, is the inability to get a cup of coffee. ‘Even in wartime the bars were open’ is a common refrain amongst the older Italians – the coffee may be have been made from twigs but at least the bar was open. When I am allowed into a shop the coffee racks are depressingly bare. I have resorted to buying another Italian staple – pocket coffee – a barrel of chocolate with a shot of espresso inside.
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