Sicilian Adventures…and Misadventures

Every summer I take a beach vacation with friends for one week. Mostly, we’ve gone every other year to Corsica, which remains a favorite among most of my beach-loving companions. On the odd year, we always choose another island destination to do something different and compare it with Corsica. We’ve tested Ibiza, several Greek islands, Mallorca, Sardinia, etc. As I said, Corsica always wins the #1 position for a great beach destination on all counts. Our trip there last year was better than perfect. (Read all about it)

This year we headed for Sicily with the goal of combining beach time with a bit of touring. This was the first time I had visited the Italian island. I was seriously looking forward to exploring it, eating great food, drinking great coffee and getting a taste of Sicilian culture.

We flew to Palermo, but rented an apartment in a villa in Mondello, a beach town west of Palermo, using Booking.com. The idea was to be near a beach and be able to go in and out of the city easily. If we had stayed in Palermo, it would have been a different experience. We didn’t know anything about Mondello, but it seemed to have potential for the purpose. We had spent hours upon hours reviewing all the available accommodations and chose this one based on the photos and amenities, just like any vacationer does.

The owner was a middle-aged Sicilian, Antonello, who was very kind and accommodating and assisted us in locating good restaurants in town. The house was shared by us and his family. They had one level and we had the other. If it hadn’t been so hot, we could have fully enjoyed the veranda and the outdoor patios and gardens, but the 90-degree-plus heat made that impossible. We each had our own rooms with AC, two bathrooms to share among the three of us and a full kitchen with a dishwasher. There was a washing machine in one of the bathrooms.

Our first dining experiences were exemplary, thanks to Antonello’s suggestions. I went off diet entirely and decided that to fully enjoy Sicily, I’d have to give in to eating pasta, tasting the local breads and drinking Sicilian wine…at least for this one week. That didn’t make me unhappy.

We had our first lunch in a local “trattoria,” Testaverde 2.0, where you could order up whatever was on display in the case, and just about anything else, and take it out or take a table on the sidewalk and bear the heat under the shade of their awning.

At first it was impossible to understand their system…if they had one, that is. You took a number for your turn to be called, but there was such chaos inside and out that it was incomprehensible how that worked, or how to order and be served. (At that stage, it was more than clear we were in Italy where anarchy meets order with a big clash!) With assertiveness and a very kind server, we conjured up a bit of this and a bit of that ending up with an assortment of goodies (that we couldn’t finish) for a whopping 33€ for the three of us.

That was just the beginning of our dining adventures and it was a good start. Again, thanks to the owner’s recommendations, dinner was in a very upscale restaurant in Mondello: Badalamenti Cucina e Bottega, that set us back seven times the price of Testaverde! Still, we weren’t unhappy at all…it was all living up to our expectations. It was here we discovered “Gelo di Melone,” a Sicilian Watermelon Jelly that became our summer dessert of choice…delicious beyond belief.

After dinner we drove into town and managed to find a place to park by being creative and parking in an unauthorized spot, where others had started the trend before us. The arc of the bay in Mondello is lined in private beaches and tacky beach-side cafés. The beaches are fenced in dividing the private beach clubs from the public beaches, but I’d never seen fencing like this before…you couldn’t access the water directly—only via the gates that separated the areas designated for lounge chairs, parasols and changing cabins. The arc is also lined with vendors selling souvenirs, jewelry and the like, in which we lightly indulged.

Antonello explained later that without the divisions, the public beaches would be filled with garbage and impossible to maintain. In Nice, that’s certainly not required, nor anywhere else I’ve ever been. The beaches are both public and private, one next to the other, without such regulations—everyone manages to respect their territory without such controls. What does this say about the Sicilians? We learned more as the week went on.

Our first day out we headed west along the coast and discovered Terrasini, a very small seaside town overlooking the Gulf of Castellammare with a beautiful beach. Our parking karma was good as we found a spot in the shade just on the edge of the beach and then landed at a local family-run restaurant overlooking the gulf, The Coral Reef. A large family took up half the restaurant with what appeared to be a celebration of a baptism. We knew then we were in good hands and the food would be up to our Sicilian standards. It was! It was here that we discovered “busiate,” a type of long macaroni, originating in the province of Trapani and typical of the Calabria and Sicily regions of Italy.

To access the beach in Terrasini, there are six flights of stairs to the crystal clear and very shallow waters. With nothing but our towels and lotions, we scored a tiny space in some shade against the rock on the most crowded beach I’d ever seen…the towels, parasols and gear were like patchwork quilts; the points of the parasols touching one another as were the towels…and no one seemed to mind. The water was clear and warmer than the air, plus shallow a long way out. It was paradise and exactly what we had come to Sicily for. All was right with the world…until we got home.

There was no running water at the villa. Sicilians have always known drought, and global warming is accentuating its frequency and intensity. This year rainfall is down by about 350 mm compared to an average annual rainfall of 750 mm. Antonello explained that the cistern had run dry, but would be refilled and soon we’d be back in business. No running water meant no showers, no toilet flushing, no washing machine. We were able to eke out enough drops of water to wet a towel and take a “chorus girl’s bath,” but not much else. As long as we had water the next day, we could survive it.

Our second night in Mondello was spent back at the waterfront, parking in exactly the same unauthorized spot as the night before and finding one of the town’s best seaside, seafood restaurants, Simpaty. The owner was out front making sure everything went perfectly as we ordered up a variety of grilled fish and a big bowl of “spaghetti di nero di seppia”—spaghetti with squid ink—black noodles in a very black sauce with bits of calamari. It remained our favorite throughout the week.

We ordered up a tour guide to explore Palermo the next day, and met Rachele in the center of town. While exploring with her, we came up to the city’s primary central spot—the Piazza Quattro Canti, or Piazza Villena, or Octagon of the Sun, or Theater of the Sun, the octagonal “square” at the crossroads of Palermo’s two main thoroughfares: the Via Maqueda and the Cassaro, now Via Vittorio Emanuele (an ancient street of Phoenician origin, connecting the acropolis and the Palace of the Normans to the sea), about halfway along their length. Just there, I spotted a Hotel-Spa and ducked in to see if they had rooms available for us, just in case we had no water at the villa and needed to make a speedy move. They had one room with three beds (at that moment) and explained that they might hear from us later that day…depending. Meanwhile, we toured all over Palermo’s old town in the intense heat with a young and knowledgeable guide .

Palermo is exactly what I expected…beautiful, charming, less than taken care of, chaotic, overrun with tourists, etc., etc. It was just what I wanted to avoid on a beach vacation, but here we were taking it all in…in intense summer heat. All of the interesting historical information that our guide bestowed on us was lost on me, as I’d never remember any of it and in all honesty, at that point, I just didn’t care. The visuals were more important than information I’d never be able to digest or remember.

In the heart of the city, we stopped for “Sicilian almond granita” at Casa Stagnitta, a coffee-lovers spot in central Palermo since 1928. Here you find ice creams, the granitas, and everything in the name of the coffee that makes history in Palermo. I left with a big bag of fresh ground house blend, smelling too delicious for words.

Coffee just about anywhere in Italy outperforms coffee anywhere else on the planet, and Sicily is no different. I ordered espresso at every turn—what I call “nectar of the gods”—as it’s so thick and rich that only a few drops on your tongue is enough and what I consider heaven on earth. But, I don’t know how to reproduce it that way, even with the right coffee grinds.

Our guide left us in Palermo in A Casa di Francesco, a trattoria that she recommended for fresh, interesting contemporary Italian mamma-papa cooking. Francesca, a pretty brunette woman, was behind the counter preparing the dishes while her husband waited on tables. The system, if that’s what you want to call it, was to go to the counter, peer in the display and order up whatever you wanted. Francesco was prepared to do just about anything. We told her the things we might like and she concocted what struck her…and it was all amazing!

When we got back to the villa, the promises of having water left us holding a very dry bag. Not a drop was coming out of the faucets. That meant we had no choice but to pack our bags and head back to Palermo, about 30 minutes away, to the QuintoCanto Hotel & Spa…and later fight with Booking.com over the bill. (Sorry, Antonello, but we couldn’t live without running water, not on our annual beach vacation!)

On our way back to the villa, and before discovering we still had no water, we had stopped at a big box store on the edge of the city, Conad’s, to pick up a few necessities, “noodles” for floating being some of them. We had arrived at the villa loaded with goodies to make dinner and the beach equipment in the trunk, as finding rentable deck chairs and parasols was only in special spots and mostly fully reserved. When we go to Corsica, already knowing the lay of the land there, where every beach we patronize has the chairs, the parasols and the good restaurants, we book them early. This was more challenging.

Packing up quickly and leaving all the fresh food behind, we got back in the car and headed back to Palermo. It was early evening and traffic in the center of the city was a nightmare, especially to find the right stopping point to reach the hotel. Even with the GPS, we kept running into dead ends and in some cases, streets so narrow that our SUV would never have gotten down them. We did a lot of backing up and turning in circles before we ended up on a pedestrian street, where we clearly were not supposed to be, ending right in the center of the Piazza Quattro Canti, where we had stood a couple hours earlier with a zillion tourists. Fortunately, no one got hit, nor did our car get scraped (!) and we were able to temporarily park, call the hotel and have them send someone to rescue us! We never stopped giggling along the way.

The Italian drivers are formidable and skillful, but need to be. They are assertive, if not aggressive, and manage to always get ahead of the game, especially when given the courtesy…as I was prone to do. It was much easier to let them win their game, than battle them on the road. My goal was to turn in the rental car with no battle scars, so to speak. Our car was a good-sized Peugeot SUV that took special care wedging it down some of the very narrow paths or parking spots. Cautious and careful driving is what was necessary.

By the time we contacted the hotel to book our stay, they had only three nights for us, not all five. We took them anyway and asked them to locate our last two nights in another hotel. Meanwhile we contacted our villa host to let him know we had left and of course, would like to be refunded for the part of the booking for which we couldn’t stay. He was not pleased and that began a battle with him and with Booking.com as it was very expensive, and clearly, not worth it…plus we were now paying double for accommodations. I don’t think he realizes the damage we can do to his rating…and will, if he doesn’t refund our money!

Our adventures and misadventures continued. The next day, after our long showers to wash off two days of salt and sweat, we drove east from Palermo toward Cefalù, although we never arrived in the town. Along the way we stopped several times, first to have lunch in Trabia, a little port town, at Covo del Brigante 2.0, that we happened upon by chance. It appeared to be one of the best restaurants in the tiny enclave and surpassed our expectations with a melon sorbet served in a slice of the melon itself that, even though a simple idea, was spectacular. At this point, Sicily had met all of our expectations of dining excellence. I had eaten more pasta during the week than I had in at least six years of dieting…and loved every minute!

After a few ins and outs of various beaches along the way toward Cefalù, we ended up at Spiaggia Capo Playa di Cefalù, a pebble beach just four kilometers from the town center, that stretches for nearly 15 kilometers. We arrived there so late that the temperature had cooled down quite a bit and was perfect for a couple of hours floating on the clear water. It satisfied our urge for a beach, knowing we’d head back to Terrasini the next day, for what we considered the perfect beach…now equipped with a parasol and “noodles.”

On the way back to Palermo, we found a good restaurant perched high above the shoreline in the town of Campofelice di Roccella, just off the main highway to Palermo, Prosit di Linda & Mimmo. It was a perfect respite to a long day, at the end of which meant maneuvering the Palermo streets back to the hotel. With experience now under our belts, we became more and more adept at such an adventure. Each time we drove in or out of Palermo, the GPS took us on a different route. It was curious, to say the least.

Two of us went back to Terrasini for lunch and beach the next day—to the same restaurant knowing how good it was, and parked in the same spot, by chance. Our parking karma was staying with us throughout the trip, but we got lost many times, in spite of the GPS. Lanes are not marked, roads are not marked, street signs are nowhere to be found, exits off highways look like nothing you might think they should look like and the GPS has you going in circles even when you can see that you can take a much easier B-Line. Driving in Sicily is not for the faint of heart.

Forgive me if I mention this repeatedly in this Nouvellettre®, but I can’t warn you enough. Be prepared.

The third in our party took an archaeological tour with a guide while we were floating on the water. She had a driver and didn’t have to think about which road to take…but she missed out on our glorious day at the beach and we missed out on her tour.

On “Assomption,” the holiday on August 15th, or The Feast of Assumption, the day when Catholics believe the Virgin Mary ascended to heaven, body and soul, at the end of her earthly life, aka the national holiday in Italy of “Ferragosto,” we had to move to the other hotel. It was a couple blocks down on the same street, a four-star boutique hotel with only 12 rooms—a bit more expensive, but it could accommodate us in one room for two nights—The Palazzo Natoli. We were now operating between the two hotels, parking our car with the QuintoCanto, but staying overnight at Palazzo Natoli. Meanwhile, we booked an afternoon at the spa at QuintoCanto for our last day in Palermo. (I couldn’t wait to leave the car and stay in town to have a totally relaxing day.)

The rooms were lovely in both hotels and the staffs were more than wonderful. In fact, everyone was very kind and accommodating wherever we went…except our Booking.com host, who wasn’t happy that we left the villa to the point of being rude.

On Assomption, we drove back to Mondello for lunch and beach time where we had rented beach lounge chairs and parasols in advance. We wanted to experience the beach everyone talks about…and on the busiest day of the year, and during one of the hottest. Were we nuts? Yes, we were.

Amazingly we parked in the same illegal spot as we had twice before. In fact, we were the first to park there knowing many would follow suit and do the same, so it would be tough for them to tow us all away on a holiday! It worked…again.

The beach in Mondello is a sad excuse for a beach and we never need to go back. To enter the private beaches you need a ticket. You go through a turnstile, like in the Métro. That in itself is so weird. Your lounge chairs are numbered, so you take whichever one was assigned you when you booked. Weird again. The beach front is fenced off, so you have to go down a path and through a gate to the water. Even stranger. The water was warm, shallow and dirty. The water was wall-to-wall bathers, and the lounge chairs are inches from one another. I’ve never been to a beach like this…and I hope never to go back. It’s a mystery to me that this even exists.

At the suggestion of our new hotel hosts, we walked down to the Port of Palermo for dinner at Porto Costanza, a lovely port-side restaurant among many at this newly gentrified area of the port. The port of Palermo is one of the most major ports for passenger traffic in the Mediterranean.

After two years of work, the port of Palermo become an attraction for tourists and residents with a trapezoidal pier inaugurated in October 2023. Attractions include a small lake and a large musical fountain with a sound and light show scheduled every evening. For one of our last evenings in Palermo, it was perfect.

The last day of this memorable trip might have been our best. We didn’t leave Palermo at all (no car!) and instead, returned to A Casa di Francesca for another fabulous lunch, then indulged in the Spa/Scrub/Massage at our first hotel—the QuintoCanto. All three of us succumbed to the (total) pleasure and it was the perfect ending to a stressful week (!). But, we didn’t stop there. We had drinks on the rooftop terrace of the Seven Restaurant of the Abasciatori Hotel, for the amazing views at sunset, then dinner at Sobremesa – Ristorantino, for an authentic Sicilian meal. Both came highly recommended by the desk clerk at Palazzo Nicola and both were well worth it for our last hurrah in Palermo.

Observations and comments:

The trash piled up everywhere, even lining the roads, another cultural clash we couldn’t help but notice. Garbage cans are everywhere overflowing with garbage. In the neighborhoods, even not too far from the city center, there are huge bins and they, too, are overflowing. It’s not a pretty picture. (France is so clean and pristine…perhaps with the exception of Paris). We tend to forget how the French take such good care of their environment, and it’s one of the things we enjoy so much about living in France.)

Driving in Sicily is like playing dodge ball or bumper cars. Motorbikes, cars, trucks, scooters…you name it, are coming at you from all directions. No one seems to stop at stop signs—fascinating. Streets are very poorly marked and the lanes are…non existent. And don’t do what we did—drive in and out of Palermo daily. Fly to Palermo and stay there, or don’t stay at all; stay somewhere else. I don’t believe we ever took the same paths twice. Even following the GPS, it took us through neighborhoods into which we should never have ventured.

We had several road adventures, including traveling down one very narrow high-walled road, lined with garbage, that went for kilometers. We never understood why on earth we got routed that way and couldn’t wait to get out. When, at the end, the signs were “Do Not Enter,” I still entered, just to get out! I warn you. Do not get behind a wheel in Sicily unless you are very confident in your driving. I got into the swing of things—the only way of winning the game. My friends were grateful.

Bottom lines:

Sicily is like Italy on steroids! We ate well, saw some beautiful scenery, laughed a lot and had some relaxing times on the beach and at the spa, but I wouldn’t call this a “vacation.” We moved locations twice. We drove way more than we had intended to and with too much stress (we were lucky to have rented an automatic, as a manual drive car might have put me over the edge). We ended up with no washing machine, so we were relegated to doing laundry in the bathroom sinks and hanging our clothing to dry however we could.

The best part was traveling with friends with whom we could work well as a team, in spite of the trials and tribulations. We had a lot of laughs in between, but would we go back?

Not any time too soon, and not in the height of summer!

A la prochaine…