Nothing in Sicily is fast – except for the volcano!
Not even the fiery Etna can convince Rory Maclean to rush his leisurely island tour
Idon’t have time to peel oranges back home,’ a solicitor told me over breakfast beside the Mediterranean. And I knew what she meant – life can feel so hectic at times. That’s why I’d given myself a week to discover Sicily with my wife Katrin and son Finn without the need to rush. On our first morning we didn’t want to venture any further than the sunny balcony at our hotel in the resort of Giardini Naxos.
In Sicily one must adopt a relaxed attitude to time: buses are almost always late, trains often cancelled, and ancient sites closed for reasons best known to the gods.
Giardini Naxos, south of Taormina on the west coast, was where Sicily began, for us and the ancient Greeks. They had landed in the wide bay, creating the island’s first timeless paradise.
Like them, I also lost my heart to its dark-leaved, many-fruited lemon groves, its exuberant and colourful cuisine, and to its resplendent living history. ‘You just have to dig with your nails to find amazing things here,’ said Caterina Valentino, owner of the Palladio Hotel in Giardini Naxos.
Despite our late arrival, she had welcomed us with a spread of raw tuna, smoked swordfish, and orange and fennel salad with pistachios.
Every night in her superb restaurant, Cucina del Palladio, her chefs prove her commitment to the island’s heritage by conjuring up Sicilian banquets.
‘No matter where you start a visit in Sicily you’ll always find good people, good food and a warm welcome,’ said Caterina. ‘So why not come back at the end of your week for my special Etna risotto?’ How could we say no?
But first we had to check out the real thing. Etna is Europe’s highest active volcano and one of the liveliest. Over the past few weeks she has put on a fiery show. ‘Etna is a woman,’ said Lara Mansfeld, of Etna Trekking, an official volcano guide. ‘She is beautiful and fertile. You are drawn to her. You want to touch her. But like any lady she can be capricious.’
Together we walked up the north flank of the mountain, surrounded by soot-black pumice mottled with spreading clumps of low cactus and bone-white birch trees. Overhead, smoke rose from an active crater.
Next we made tracks for Palermo for its baroque palazzos and cultural gems such as the Cappella Palatina – a masterpiece of Norman art – Monreale Cathedral, and the Capuchin catacombs.
With only a few days left, we could fit in neither Erice, a town of sweeping sea views, nor Agrigento’s Valley of Temples. The fishing villages of Punta Secca and Sampieri, which feature in TV’s Inspector Montalbano, sadly had to go by the wayside.
Instead we focused on Syracuse, the island’s most handsome town, with its ceramic shops and white marble piazzas. The Greek theatre dates from the time when Syracuse was one of the world’s major cities.
Finally, we headed back to Giardini Naxos to sample Caterina’s Etna risotto – a squid-ink volcano exploding with tomato sauce lava and dotted with flecks of ricotta.
It was unforgettable and never to be taken for granted – just like Etna itself.