My day in Palermo begins with a morning run along the seafront. I run down our street of 19th century buildings in this “new” part of town, in the middle of the road as cars are parked on the pavement. It must have been too much effort to try to fit neatly inside the lines of the parking spaces so they just drove straight in, noses blocking the pavement, rears pointing out into the road.
I jog past well-dressed Italians drinking cappuccino in cafes, small children rolling their bright pink suitcases to school, a homeless guy and his dog bundled in blankets in a doorway. I smell the harbour before I get there, the pungent smell of fish emanating from the warehouse-like market. A little further along I reach the horseshoe of La Cala, a mass of boats reflected in the still morning water.