2/4/2020
(Above: A mossy path led through the botanical gardens. Very few people come here, it seems.)
Active Summary: Today began with a short trip down to the bakery across the street (more in commentary) and was then followed by the morningly regimen of calisthenics and writing. A small breakfast was ensued by my brother and venturing outside.
On today’s walk we were intent on procuring food from the supermarket about 1 mile away, but along the way we found a botanical garden. It was a rustic patch of land including quite a variety of flowering/fruiting plants & trees, some rock formations (chunks of stone that had fallen from the nearby cliffs), and a sleepy little visitor office where I saw two men and one woman performing maintenance tasks.
After tasting three different types of fruit – an orange, an olive (more in TIL), and an acorn* – we departed the botanical garden and made our way to the supermarket. There, I procured pizza items, various drinks, wine for home, and took a number of pictures that will be included below the commentary. On our way back up to the apartment, we stopped for brioche & gelato. It was superb – a true ice cream sandwich.
(8:08 PM Update:) Following an afternoon of leisure, my brother and I paid our favorite bakery a visit to acquire our post-dinner desserts. I made dinner on our returning to the room – a salad/pizza for myself and another pizza for my brother. The pictures below detail the exquisite repast:
A pre-dinner snack packaged within a mystery wrapper. 
Prosciutto, procured from the cured meat / cheese counter at the R7 supermarket this morning. The color was indicative of the incredible freshness and flavor. 
Two pizzas, both of which were made on the leftover bread from two nights ago. The toppings on mine were: tomato sauce (doctored with freshly minced garlic and butter), sauteed vegetables (onion, bell pepper, and mushroom), buffalo mozzarella, and bresola** / arugula (both added after cooking). My brother’s pizza was the same minus the sauteed vegetables. 
Dinner at our apartment in Agrigento, made with local ingredients. 
A new package from the bakery. This one was only 7.5 euros. What could possibly be inside? 
Oh. 
Oh yes.
TIL: Today I learned that raw olives are virtually inedible. I bit into the soft succulent flesh of a dark purple one directly off of the tree, and moments later it was on the ground and I was spitting purple-dyed saliva into the nearby bushes. Indeed, that little fruit bore one of the most bitter flavors I have ever experienced. A bit of research after returning to the room revealed to me that many olives are processed in lye – in lye – before they can become edible. It makes me wonder how people ever began eating them, and even more oddly how they decided to make oil from them.
I also learned that the trees of this area bearing a plethora of white-and-pink flowers are almond trees. Not nectarine or peach.
Commentary: This morning I woke up to sun shining in the window, the sounds of bells, and a hubbub coming from the bakery just across the street from our building. I rose from bed and shambled my way over to the window where I witnessed a lively conversation occurring between a very old Sicilian woman and the baker. I’m not certain if the words were happy, angry, or somewhere in between – Italian is a language like that – but I did see that she came away with a bag full of something that she clutched in her gnarled claw-like hands like a coveted prize.
Interested to see what she had obtained, I donned some pants, a jacket, and my orange cap before venturing downstairs. A quick jaunt across the street revealed that the entire upper portion of the counter had been filled with fresh crunch-cookies (biscotti). I obtained two for my brother’s and mine own breakfast (the four of them cost of one euro), and on my way out of the shop, one of the fellows – the especially hefty one – behind the counter asked me a question in Italian. I paused a moment, and a puzzled “what?” escaped me before I could say my classic line, ‘spiacente, parlo inglese’.
The man behind the counter must have understood, though, and asked in a heavy accent, “Where you from?” I responded, “Florida, United States.” He seemed quite satisfied with that answer, saying, “Ah, Americano.” To this I nodded, before giving him a, “Grazie” and “Ciao” before departing. A couple “Ciao” followed me, and then I could hear the beginnings of another lively conversation as I journeyed across the street and ventured up the stairs to our apartment. That conversation included the word, “Americano“. It was uttered with a positive inflection… not as if he liked Americans in particular (the people here seem to treat everyone else on an equal basis) but as if he was happy with himself at having practiced his own English skills and successfully found out where I lived by speaking my language. This is a perfect example of what I appreciate about these people.
Brother taking a picture of my picturing him in the botanical garden of Agrigento. 
A silhouette of a flowering almond tree against a bright blue sky. 
A recently tilled space. 
An impressive specimen. 
A lantana bloom reminiscent to those I’ve found at home. 
Wild flowers at the botanical gardens in Agrigento. 
Palms bordering a flowering almond tree. 
Two pine trees overlooking the gardens. 
More lantana flowers. It seems that the climates of Sicily and Florida are quite similar for these plants to grow to such sizes. 
A cactus ‘tree’. 
Name of the so-called cactus tree. 
Orange grove beneath some stratified rock formations. 
A lone bench located beside an olive grove. 
Sunshine piercing the shade of an olive tree. 
Close-up of the olive tree where I tasted a fresh olive. 
A tall flowering (almond) tree. 
Baby food. They are feeding infants ‘prosciutto mix’? 
Toilet paper and accompanying prices. 
Packaged snaks. 
More packaged snacks and accompanying prices. 
The cheese and cured meat counter. From this deli, we obtained .25 kg of prosciutto and .25 kg of smoked provolone cheese. 
Beer prices. 
The wine aisle. 
The soda aisle. Keep in mind that many of the listed prices are for singular cans / bottles despite their being bound together in 6-packs. 
Oreo-cookie gelato within a sweet brioche bun. It only got better as I ate it, and the bottom – that bit where I could consume the thing like an actual sandwich – was a truly delicious combination of taste and texture. 
The air was quite hazy today before the cool-front’s arrival.
Final Note: Tomorrow morning I will be at the Agrigento Bus Station at 9:45 AM to catch the ride to Village Mosé. A cooking lesson shall ensue (along with the resultant meal), and then I will return to Agrigento where it will be about time to pack up for the beginning of our journey homeward.
*In order of worst flavor to best, they would rank: 3. Olive, 2. Orange, and 1. Acorn. Indeed, the olive was terrible… that will be described in TIL. The orange was another of the bitter sort. The large acorn, however, was a surprise. I bit it open with my teeth and was intrigued by the pale, nut-like flesh within (I’m used to the golden orange of live-oak acorns). On finding as much, I had myself a small chew-and-taste. The resultant flavor was reminiscent to a pecan, and I was actually sorry that I had to spit it out. One does not fully consume foreign fruits without knowing what they are, after all.
**Cured beef.