I woke up at the Colleroni factory, an orange packing plant and orange grove. We were lead on a tour around the plant by one of the owners of the company who did not speak English. Patania had to translate for him. I do not mind this at all, because it gives an aura of authenticity to the company. We saw workers picking through the oranges for the good and the bad ones. Oranges were being sorted and washed throughout the plant. They were then waxed and sorted by size.
Colleroni packaged oranges under their own brand name, but also packaged goods for supermarkets. The company bought the products needed for packaging from another company. I had not previously thought about factories and plants not owning each product it needs for placing its products on shelves even though it is obvious once you consider it. I remembered that the chocolate and candy factory bought the prizes for its chocolate eggs from another company. See? I did learn something about marketing this weekend.
We were able to taste tangerines or mandarins, some of which were individually wrapped for decoration. We were able to stand outside and see the view from the factory while we ate them. It was set in a valley and I could see the hills all around me. After our tour around the plant, we were taken into the offices and offered fresh squeezed orange juice. We watched the owner and his wife squeeze oranges and blood oranges to offer us tastes of their fruit. I am not a fan of pulp, but I could not care less at this point. Have you ever been offered fresh squeezed orange juice at the location where the oranges were picked just that morning? I do not think so. When am I ever going to get an opportunity like that again?
It got even better, though. We then boarded the bus again, and the owner, his wife and his daughter took us to a blood orange grove. We got to relax in the orange grove and pick blood oranges off the tree. We picked fresh blood oranges native to Sicily off the tree and ate them. Perfection!
We visited an oil production plant, Buccheri, after the orange grove. After the excursions that we had had the day before and that morning, the visit did not compare to the others. We did not have a tour around the small plant, but Patania explained how an oil-production plant was run because he used to work in one. Most of the people were satisfied with this visit after 15 minutes. Many of the students were playing with the dogs running around outside instead. We even found one lying in a bed of olive leaves. Eventually, though, we were able to see the oil being extracted. Buccheri was testing oil with an orange flavor. I tasted it, and it was disgusting. I would never even think of using this oil to cook. I wonder if the Italians would like this product or if it would be successful anywhere. We were also able to taste the olives they used to create the olive oil. They were a bit salty and bitter, but decent enough.
However, the day picked up again. We then went to lunch at a restaurant in the middle of a valley. It was literally the only thing in the valley. You could walk onto the decks and look out onto the hills. We had a multiple-course Sicilian meal that rivaled the seafood meal from the night before. We enjoyed glasses of red wine and relaxed for the afternoon for a couple of hours.
We ended the day with a trip to Siracusa. I thought that we would be visiting another plant or factory, but Patania lead us on a walking tour around the city instead. It was a nice alternative to seeing another factory. It was a beautiful small town on the water. Boats were everywhere. We were lead into churches where we saw the embalmed remains of bishops, if I remember correctly. As unique as this is to see, it is creepy! You are looking at the several-hundred-year-old remains of a human being. Weird.
After returning to Catania from Siracusa, a small group of us went in search of food. We bought pizza and sat in a piazza to relax and enjoy dinner. Later that night we explored bars and the night life in Catania. For reasons that are not necessary to explain, I had to find my way home at three in the morning without a map. I had to rely on my Italian skills then. Thanks Gitti (my Italian 2 professor)!
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