Zingaro Natural Reserve

The Reserve is on the other side of the mountains from the campsite, only a few miles as the crow flies or via a goat track over the tops. Regular access is around the mountains to the north or to south, and we did both on separate days.

The main route within the Reserve is a rocky footpath following the line of the coast that connects the north and south entrances. This is typically what the path looks like.

The coastline is rugged so it’s a picturesque route with scrub plants and a variety of wildlife. We didn’t see much wildlife apart from the occasional rapidly flitting bird, but Jane did spot these odd bristles on the path (largest one is about 6 inches long).

At the exit, the Reserve Warden (where was the regular one?)  said they were from a porcupine. The internet expanded on this to explain that it was a Crested Porcupine, the only European species of porcupine, and quite rare. They have been known to charge backwards, so maybe it was as well we didn’t blunder into it. 

A few trails from the coastal path head inland into the mountains, wild country as you can see from the photo.

The route goes past a big cave. A plaque nearby describes finds in the cave dating from 10,000 BC, the earliest known inhabitants of the island. The cavemen here had no excuse for not recording details of their history, having generous supplies of porcupine quills lying around.

 

To create a proper path at the southern end, a tunnel has been blasted through the rock. It shows how isolated this area must have been in the not too distant past, with just a few fishermen’s dwelling inside the Reserve only accessible by boat or very rough trails. It was rumoured that the area was a favourite dropping ground for Mafia smuggled drugs, and that the opening of the Reserve in 1981 included negotiations with the Mafia. I’m sure a suitable alternative was agreed.

Just outside the Reserve is an old, abandoned, tiny fishing village, La Tonnara di Scopello. It’s in an idyllic setting with a line of rock pinnacles outside the harbour entrance and a ruined watch tower on the cliffs. How romantic is that? Probably not very, after a hard night’s fishing- you’d swap it there and then for a bottle of Chianti.

There was a small church, the most important building in the village when you’re trying to ensure favourable fishing weather. A miniature, but beautiful in its simplicity.

And what was this sink used for, washing clothes, gutting fish? The triangular splash-back is so beautifully made in mosaic. The discoloured plaster and rusty anchor make up the collage; it looks like it’s grown, like a plant.

We’ve enjoyed the tranquillity of San Vito Lo Capo, and now for something different as we are upping stumps and off to the hustle and bustle of the island’s capital Palermo on Wednesday 12^th Feb.