![\"Charlie](\"https:\/\/ourtourmedia.s3.eu-central-003.backblazeb2.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/DSC09002.jpg\")
<\/a>Charlie eyes up some daft fella snorkelling past Dave.<\/p><\/div>\n
Fishing is everything here it seems. We have a good view of the entrance to the harbour, watching craft of varying size\u00a0purposefully heading in and out, day and night. It amazes me that many of them seem to drop net as soon as they pass the red-green lights which universally mark the entrance to harbours. They pootle about the bay in front of us, and head back in. I’ve seen ‘Most Dangerous Catch’, and these guys have got the right idea, none of that daftness for them. Where do all the fish come from though? I nipped in for a snorkel, and sure enough, the sea’s full of ’em, even this close in. No sign of that eel though, phew.<\/p>\n
<\/a>Out of port, nets out.<\/p><\/div>\n
About 800m from here there’s a vets. Almost. Charlie needs his booster vaccinations before Tunisia, and Ju found the place on Google. As we walked around the corner, there it is, looking spanking new. Too new it turns out, sort of. The logos on the windows were half covered in plastic and the young vet, Raoul, told us he’s waiting for authorisation after he’d done apologising for his perfect English. After a bit of discussion he’s offered to get the vaccinations from Palermo and meet us tomorrow at 9:30 to sort it all out. Erm, waiting for authorisation to do what, remove the plastic from the window logos?<\/p>\n
<\/a>A few lamposts sport these knitted pattened warmers. Unrelated but interesting, people hang their clothes to dry in the street, no apparent fear of jeans snafflers.<\/p><\/div>\n
As the title suggests, we’re in Mafia country here in Western Sicily.\u00a0Cosa Nostra’s the name for Sicily’s all-original brand of underworld gang criminals, a separate entity to other mafia on the Italian peninsula and abroad, and a loose collection of gangs rather than a hierarchical single entity (you can’t chop the head off if there is no head). As a tourist, there is nothing to see of them, their dealings are kept\u00a0quiet\u00a0by the omerta, the law of silence. Even a\u00a0Mafioso\u00a0isn’t allowed to tell another\u00a0Mafioso\u00a0that he’s a\u00a0Mafioso\u00a0lest he accidentally reveal himself. A third-party, known by and trusted by both the others has to do the job. The\u00a0Mafia’s known as ‘the octopus’ here, tentacles everywhere. Bent politicians win office by bargaining with the right people, paying them off through protection and by awarding\u00a0lucrative\u00a0contracts which are either poorly delivered, or the money just disappears. Even billionaire ex-prime ministers here are openly accused of involvement with the underworld<\/a><\/strong>;\u00a0no smoke without fire?<\/p>\n Back in the real world, the one we can actually see, it’s alive around the dock where the fishing boats reverse to a thick crowd of dark-coated men milling about in anticipation. Not just alive with folks either (see below). We spent a good while at the docks, watching the unfathomable bargaining process as the fishermen sold directly to anyone buying.<\/p>\n