A Week In Sicily

Sunday, October 09, 2011 Eva 0 Comments


As I sit by our hotel’s wooden shuttered window in the medieval mountaintop town of Erice, in western Sicily, the mist swirls around the aged terracotta rooftops and antique stone buildings, sometimes obscuring the nearby bell tower that I could see so clearly in the bright sunlight the day before. The thin rusted metal crucifix on the duomo’s rooftop that faces the belltower seems to cut through the smokey grey mist. Yesterday’s blue skies and breathtaking vistas from this eagle’s nest (if you ignore the military antenna stationed in front of the town’s prime views) have given way to a shroud of gothic ambience, all the more moody as the bells ring out the time through the thick air.
Erice's castle ruins by sunshine

Out on Erice’s cobblestoned laneways this morning we saw the wind-swept mist whirl up the limestone clifftops, over the Norman castle towers, through the ancient piazzettas and baroque balconies and around doorways of little cafes and ceramic outlets. Down below lay the port town of Trapani and a sweep of bay lapped by the bluest of water - only peeks through the misty gaps today. The cool breeze and drop in temperature are welcome relief to us after weeks of hot Mediterranean summer days.

Last night we joined the throngs of locals and tourists as we dined in the town’s main piazza and watched a local concert under the stars as part of a summer festival.The tall, slim and attractive female presenter with the glossy hair, glamorous gown and perfect tan introduced the talented female singer with the long hair and fashionable frock, both of them talking on and on in Italian before any singing actually began.There was lots of tossing of the hair, and the hands and arms got a good work-out. It was a very pleasant way to pass the evening watching the Italians (make that, Sicilians) in action.

Erice ceramics shop
We had intentions of taking a daytrip into Palermo today, but the strong Italian coffee that had me tossing, turning and losing sleep last night, as well as Erice’s atmospheric allure, kept us contentedly within the limits of the old stone walls. Tomorrow we fly out of Palermo, having seen only its airport. With the tight timeframe that we gave ourselves to drive around Sicily, some compromises had to be made. Palermo was one of them.
The rough plan was to drive from the east to the west side of the island in one week. Our 45 minute flight from Malta, that we’d booked only days before online, was so much cheaper than ferry tickets with the bonus of buying us a little extra time. The aircraft flew us over the brown dry lands of Sicilia, becoming greener the closer we approached Catania airport. Then the unexpected vista of Mt Etna suddenly loomed out of the landscape, a wispy halo of smoke ringing its summit. It was an awesome sight from the plane’s window. A laborious 2 hour-long queue standing around waiting for our rental car with crowds of international holidaymakers followed. With no GPS system available and a basic map provided by the rental car company we were ready to hit the road, Jack.

Taormina views


Taormina's ancient Greek amphitheatre setting up for an opera
with Mt Etna in the distance

We made up our route on the hop, firstly heading up the north coast to the pretty town of Taormina clinging to a cliff’s edge.Here we wandered up through the medieval streets, past a little pasticceria with the best Sicilian cannoli we were to EVER sample, to reach its ancient Greek amphitheatre that overlooks a glorious bay far below and Mt Etna smoking away in the distance. It must be THE most panoramically situated amphitheatre in the world and it was preparing to host a Chinese philharmonic orchestra from Hangzhou who were there with their ancient Egyptian props setting up for an operatic performance of Aida.How surreal would that be, sitting on worn marble steps from an ancient civilization long gone, listening to classical music from past days performed by another culture whilst watching an enactment from another age-old era. All this with blue sky above and deep blue sea below.


Biscuits and marzipan sweets, Taormina


Leaving Taormina the next day we headed south to Mt Etna, Europe’s largest volcano, eventually arriving at its base long after we’d anticipated.As navigator, I finally figured that road signs pointing left meant go straight ahead, but that signs pointing left also meant go left. Often on small rural roads they’d peter out near important forks leaving me to make decisions about unknown routes or were obscured behind wild oleander bushes.Max patiently put up with many wrong turns and routes as I tried to make sense of the road system.


Mt Etna smokes away as we walk further away from the jeep base






Mt Etna is reached part of the way by cable car then, rather than hike the rest of the way up under the glare of the summer sun and cold windy high altitude (we’re not crazy), we chose to climb aboard a monster of a 4WD jeep bus with an accompanying guide to reach a height of around 2700 metres plus.Fresh lava from an eruption four days ago, the 8th one this year, looked like shiny black stones and an eruption in July had formed a new crater as well as burying the 2-storey refuge, named the Philosopher’s Tower, near where we walked on the lunar-like landscape. The scene was one of black gravelly mountains, craters with steam escaping from deep fissures and the highest volcanic point covered in snow against a vista of blue sky with Catania way below. Luckily, Etna behaved herself whilst we were there.The guide let on that, although measurements are taken constantly, the staff don’t know exactly when it will erupt.Are you serious?

Syracuse, once a major ancient Greek city, was a whistlestop where we stayed on its little island of Ortygia connected to the mainland.We chose not to thrash ourselves on the overload of archaeological sites here so as not to diminish the specialness of our next stopover at the Valley of the Temples. By this stage of our travels we’d passed through many ancient sites in Greece and Malta and were feeling a little archaeologically-weary.Rather, we soaked up Ortygia’s historical streets on foot and dined outdoors in the evening at the baroque Piazza del Duomo to people watch.

Piazza in Ortygia

Our longest stretch on the road was the leisurely drive from Syracuse in the east to Agrigento in the south-west, spending the morning in the gorgeous town of Noto that had us ooh-ing and aah-ing. The place was dripping with lovely baroque architecture.Had time permitted this would have made a lovely overnight stay.
Beautiful Noto

Agrigento was our base to reach the world heritage site of the Valley of the Temples, a bit of a misnomer as this is an avenue of ancient Greek temples that sit spectacularly along a sandstone clifftop (not a valley) that rises from the plains below and visible from the road and the sea further out.Wow and double wow!How do you take in one of the most amazing spectacles of antiquity?By wandering amongst the ruins from morning to late afternoon as the sun beat down on us, picnicking under a tree in front of the majestic pillars of the Temple of Concordia, exploring the many pathways that lead from necropolis to temples to orchards, seeking shade on old ruins under cool trees, investigating ancient rock closely to discover seashells embedded in the grains of sandstone and picking ripe almonds from branches overhead, cracking them open with rocks of history strewn about.

A brilliant display of massive contemporary bronze sculptures of mythological figures such as Icarus by the French Polish artist Igor Mitoraj scattered throughout the site added a sense of awe and aura to the place.



Igor Mitoraj sculptures scattered among the ruins at Valley of the Temples


We took respite from the heat back at the hotel’s swimming pool which was also the venue for an evening barbecue.Expecting a casual affair, we turned up to find that the pool area, which a short time before was filled with sun lounges, swimmers, beach towels and inflatable toys, looked like a wedding reception by the water without the bridal party. We were delighted to see locals take to the dance floor as they put on a display of line dancing, latin grooves and moves, as well as traditional dances such as the polka and mazurka to the Italian band.They were having a ball of a time (we gathered that perhaps they were a dance club) and we had a ball of a time watching them while we hoed into mountains of local dishes and wine.And that was before the meat was served. So, this is a barbecue Sicilian style, hey?Loads of food ……and then some steaks and snaggers on the barbie followed by dessert.

Temple of Concordia (above) and Temple of Juno,
Valley of the Temples



Back on the road we headed towards the coastal town of Trapani, with a stopover to view another dramatically located ancient Greek site, the imposing Doric temple of Segesta, not far off the major highway.This side of the island we found very scenic, made all the more stunning with its unfinished marble temple of thick soaring columns sitting so majestically in a valley of wooded mountains.Geez, even in archaic times unfinished government projects lay abandoned – just like the present.Further up a nearby mountainside are the ruins of an amphitheatre and ancient townsite.


Down below, green fields with orderly rows of crops, mostly grapevines, carpet the rise and fall of the land which is interspersed with rectangles of straw yellow plots and neat patches of scorched earth where farmers burn off fallow ground.The ever present mountains in the backdrop follow us around this part of Sicily.

We arrived at Trapani’s port on a Sunday afternoon and it felt like a ghost town as we walked around the old town’s empty narrow streets loaded down with our packs trying unsuccessfully to locate our rented room off tiny vicoli (laneways). Everything was closed and we hardly passed a soul, save one local who assisted us to locate the small cortile (courtyard) where the guesthouse was located.By evening Trapani’s streets came to life as cafes and bars opened, and tourists and residents alike emerged for their passegiata (evening promenade).

Fiat Bambini in Trapani came with rosary beads & Madonna radio station

Motorway spans a valley in western Sicily

We had a serious decision to make on where to spend our last couple of days before our departure.To stay in Trapani and use it as a base to nearby sights or head for Erice which sounded enticing from our guidebook’s description.Trapani, a jumping off point to Tunisia (NOT a good choice right now, given its political situation), wasn’t really ‘doing it’ for us – we’d stayed at other historic seaside towns along the way and we were in search of something a little different. Mountaintop scenery won out, especially combined with the word ‘medieval’. And so it came to be that we ended at the top of the steep winding road to the little place of Erice, where I now sit by the window admiring the view as it disappears under eerie mist as I write this.



Sicily is Italian and yet it has felt as though it’s a land unto itself, its own little mountainous country of wild oleander and prickly pear. It’s synonymous with the Mafia and yet this side of life is not visible to the tourist. The ancient Greeks, the Arabs, Normans and Romans have all left their mark and shaped the island that is Sicily today. It certainly has some of the best ancient Greek antiquities we've seen.
Whilst we covered a lot of ground in our one week ziparound and soaked up its sun, sweets and sights, we must return one day to do it better justice. Sicilia is an island worth exploring in more depth.



Doric temple at Segesta




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