There are 67 steps up to the B&B we're staying at. That's after you get to the top of the hillside portion of the town. This charming B&B has another 12 steps to go to get to the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean. Cefalu is a resort town for Italians, Sicilians, French, Germans and all the rest of the world. It's nestled at the base of a piedmont, perched atop volcanic runs frozen into tufa from some long-ago eruption. The town has charm and it knows it. Yesterday, Sunday, was confirmation day for many of the town's children. Dave & I sat in the piazza sipping cappucini watching the small procession go by. There were more relatives, friends, and family than tourists. It was the kind of event every tourist hopes occurs while they're in a town, the local event which enwraps family and strangers alike. The children, dressed in long white cassocks, carried white daylilies singing about Jesu being alive. Their families carried baskets of rhodedendron and left them on the church steps. The brass bells rang noon.