I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not in a Godfather movie. It's no an easy task. Today I am leaving the bustling city of Palermo, headed for Trapani and my windshield looks like a movie screen. Sicilian villages decorated in earthy terra cotta tones drift by in stark contrast to the green fields over which they stand. Lazy lanes and carefully cultivated olive trees replace bustling city streets. An old man ambles along, pushing a bike that likely witnessed world wars. This is the Sicily from my imagination. Afternoon has crept up on me. I can feel the long day's journey from Florida weigh me down. I follow directions from the printed sheet resting in my lap to my home for the next 4 days: Corte del Sole.