Waiting alone at the airport station, the train becomes a giant underground darkness worm; its single eye glowing brighter as it inches its way towards the end of the track. A Cyclops steel worm. Sicily is the home of Homer’s Cyclops. On this new airport train you can’t open the windows but on the old trains windows can be opened, and young men can kiss sweethearts goodbye. I was sitting waiting for the train to leave for Santa Flavia, when a young man standing on the platform, leapt and gripped and hung on to the partly opened window and kissed his sweetheart goodbye. She sat down opposite me and we passed apartment blocks and setting sun lit orange and lemon groves on the way to Santa Flavia. Nearing Palermo, a trickle of passengers begin to board. A teenager; post punk studs and vinyl, and retro West Side Story hair style, looks like she’s had a long day. She alights before Palermo. In Palermo, a night time via Roma is deserted and strangely familiar, reminiscent of the main street of the town where I grew up. My map says I won’t have to carry my bags far until I find Julie-Anne’s. Arriving in March, Easter is early this year. I anticipate it will be cold up in the mountains at night.