Sicily, beautiful but not as glitzy as one might think

Part of my recent trip to Europe allowed me to visit Italy's (and the Mediterranean's) largest island, Sicily. Forming the toe portion of the Italian boot in the southernmost portion of the country, Sicilia is not easily reached by train or car from central or northern Europe, unless you have a lot of time on your hands. Lufthansa offers a couple of daily flights from Munich to Catania, the island's second-largest city after Palermo, and Sabine and I took advantage of this service. By US standards, the direct flight is not overly long at two hours, but nevertheless we had sprung for Business class tickets to add a bit of comfort, not get nickeled-and-dimed for our luggage, and have access to various Lufthansa lounges, which was of particular interest to me just to see how their offerings compare to AA's Admiral's Clubs.

Don't expect US First Class legroom on European short-hauls in Biz

The ITA/LH "lounge" is a total joke

The LH lounge in Frankfurt served my favorite dish 

Thanks to the recent change back to Central European Time (CET), we arrived in Catania just as the sun set, and by the time we had picked up our small rental car it was pitchblack dark. Even though our Airbnb in Plemmirio was just about 45 miles south of the CTA airport, it took us almost an hour and a half to arrive at our destination. Once off the motorway, the going is slow with narrow, pot-holed roads that feature roundabouts every kilometer or so, slowing progress. Additionally, at that point we still obeyed the speed limit signs that admonished us to crawl along at 30 mph even if nobody else was going slower than at least sixty.

View from and of our Airbnb in Plemmirio

The initial plan had been that a caretaker would meet us to facilitate the arrival in a gated community with tricky parking and not much illumination, but said person had an emergency and so I had successfully communicated with Eva (the owner of the house) to find our way into Casa Carlotta. After half a dozen WhatsApp messages and a phone call with Eva, who lives with her husband in Amsterdam most of the time, we finally figured out the electrical system and a few other idiosyncrasies of the beautiful home.

I had chosen this property for its location right on the wild and rugged southern Sicilian coast, and when we witnessed the next morning the 270-degree view of the Mediterranean just steps away from our terrace, we were totally awed.

Plemmirio is located on the Maddalena Peninsula, just south of Syracuse and its ancient Isola di Ortigia, and much of the shoreline as well as the surrounding sea are environmentally protected areas. The coast is characterized by sheer limestone cliffs that are part of the Hyblean Plateau (which we would visit a few days later into the trip). The rocks are sharp and pointy; getting into the water (which we did several times when the Mediterranean was relatively calm) requires water shoes and a certain amount of sure-footed dexterity to eventually get back out without cuts or gashes. This is not a place to try to land a rubber dinghy or wooden lifeboat as either would sink within minutes after first contact with the rocks.

Sabine contemplating her chances of getting back out

There were several rough, concreted walkways, with steps, that led down to the water. The water was crystal clear (the area is known for its excellent diving) and at about 71 degrees still warm enough to swim in, at least for 10 minutes or so. But as I said, even moderately choppy seas made swimming impossible, at least for us and at that location (although there are some beach areas that have easier accessibility).

A sheltered beach and a swimming platform, both in Ortigia

The weather was a bit of a mixed bag, but that's to be expected in November. We enjoyed several perfectly sunny days as well as partly cloudy afternoons, which we used for excursions to Ortigia, Noto, and Taormina; on the one occasion that it rained and stormed most of the day, we didn't venture out until the rain stopped and then hiked to one of the peninsula's lighthouses. That was also the day when, for a few hours, the wind was blowing at a steady 40 to 45 mph, whipping the Mediterranean into a frothy frenzy, and the booming sounds of the waves crashing into the coast reminded us how powerful this body of water can be. 

Our first excursion led us to Isola di Ortigia, the original site of what is now Syracuse. Like so many places in Sicily, Ortigia was founded by the Greeks (in 734 BC!) and later taken by the Romans. Most of the buildings that one sees here and in other similarly old settlements do not date back that far: In 1693, Italy's most severe earthquake ever leveled more than 70 cities, killed in excess of 60,000 people, and was the root cause for the distinctively Sicilian Baroque building style. Upon first glimpse these buildings look imposing and noble, but it doesn't take long to notice the decay of what once was truly magnificent. The cities we visited were all in desperate need of restoration and repair. Far too many buildings are no longer occupied, facades of a golden age centuries ago. Add a lot of trash to this general air of abandonment, and much of the initial allure starts to fall by the wayside. However, as Sabine observed, one does not see any beggars or homeless individuals, in contrast to dilapidated inner city areas in most western cities.

It is easy to romanticize old buildings and forget that to actually live in them may not be all that desirable. I had seen a similar situation earlier this year in Porto, where entire blocks were deserted except for stray cats and drug addicts. One may own what—on paper at least—should be a valuable piece of property, but unless one has the money to not just keep the place from toppling over but to restore it, the decay will continue and accelerate. Northern Italy with its relative financial wealth is worlds away, and I would be truly interested in what specific efforts are being made to make these far southern towns and cities healthy again.

Our trip to Palazzolo Acreide with its many churches and 2,300-year-old amphitheater came on a cloudy but dry day. The town was quiet, giving off abandoned vibes. We went into the Basilica of San Sebastian, and it was deserted except for one or two worshippers. Other churches were shuttered and didn't look as if the doors had been swung open in decades. The hill-top castle was closed for reconstruction, but not much activity was noticeable. The Greek amphitheater was all ours; I was surprised that a caretaker was sitting in her shack, scrolling through her phone and absentmindedly relieving us of a few euros. The quarries that later became catacombs were spooky looking on that dreary day; the western slopes of Etna were barely visible in the far distance.

Taormina, one of the best-known beach destinations in the entire Mediterranean (at least as far as German and British tourists are concerned), is doing somewhat better, but even here the pattern continued in the side streets, just not as pronounced. It is easy to overlook reality when you hang out at the breathtaking beach, visit the ruins of the spectacular Teatro Greco, or stroll along the Corso Umberto where luxury brands such as Dior, Louis Vuitton, and Audemars Piguet are competing for the well-to-do tourist's euro or dollar.

All this talk about decay of old buildings should not keep you from visiting—there are, after all, other attractions to Italy, such as food. However, be prepared for prices that are not for the faint-of-pocketbook. We had a very simple lunch of appetizers and a drink each in a side-street eatery in Noto (so simple that I can't even remember what we had!) that put us back just shy of €50, or about $58. Aye Chihuahua indeed! Ice cream starts around $4 for a single portion, and a bottle of water will be as much as a bottle of local beer wherever you sit down. One exception to high restaurant prices is that wonderful Italian invention, the pizza. It is affordable (relatively) and comes in so many variations that one could eat a pie daily for months without getting bored. About a kilometer away from our Airbnb was a small pizzeria where we had a pizza each for around €10 and a one-liter pitcher of house wine for another €6.50; more established restaurants charge about 2/3 more for the pies (and much more for even simple bottles of wine). As a result, we had just a few lunches on the road and most of our dinners at the Airbnb with fresh ingredients from a nice supermarket just 20 minutes away.

Of course, there were lots of highlights that we thoroughly enjoyed. For example, while in Taormina, we were floored by the beautiful sunset behind Mount Etna, the exactly 3,000-meter-tall active volcano (9,842 feet) that rises just northwest of Catania almost from sea level. For most of the day it had been hiding behind clouds, but by mid-afternoon we could see the smoke plume that appears like a halo cloud. Etna is tall enough to have spots of "eternal" icy snow in some grottos, which before the advent of artificial refrigeration was harvested by locals to make gelati. I never heard about that kind of use in conjunction with Hawaii's Mauna Kea, where Judy and I had witnessed locals transporting pickup-truck loads of snow down to the coast at Christmas time to build short-lived snowmen. Even without a permanent snow cap, Etna does receive enough seasonal snow to support a ski area, replete with a lift! (The sunsets and moonrises from our terrace were nothing to sneer at, either!)

The amazing decorations and crenulations of the buildings were stunning. How many craftsmen must have been working on the ornamentation of the rebuilt mansions in the years after the big earthquake in 1693? Where did they all come from? How did they learn their art? One could spend weeks strolling through the towns and finding new gems if one only looks for the detailed masonry and stucco work, which of course show the passing of time. Entry doors with their knockers are equally entertaining, as are the small balconies that sometimes have lost part of the platform when one of the support buttresses detached itself from the wall.

Speaking of balconies: Sicily is home of a beautiful tradition, the Testa di Moro. Legend has it that a beautiful Sicilian lass from Palermo fell madly in love with a visiting lad of Moorish descent, who reciprocated her amorous feelings. Alas, eventually she found out that he had a betrothed in a land far away to whom he was going to return. When he fell asleep at the end of their last, lust-driven night she decapitated him, filled with jealousy and rage. All this sounds pretty normal for a hot-blooded babe from southern Italy, but then came the real kicker: She decided to use his head as a planter for her basil and placed it on her balcony, where the basil took off like mint! Her neighbors were envious of her green thumb and ordered head-shaped ceramic planters from the local potter, and to this day one sees male and female versions of the Moor's Head pots in every town, on balconies, balustrades, and other fitting locations, overflowing with plants. (There are a few other versions of the story; the most plausible one is that of the infuriated father of the girl who finds out about the tryst and kills them both, which would better explain why pots commemorate boy and girl.)

Overall, our week presented a nicely balanced cultural and culinary program, without stress and much time to sit on the terrace, watching and listening to the unrelenting waves. We were glad that we had decided not to try to incorporate bikes into this short vacation as the logistics would have complicated life by several magnitudes. And from what we saw, the cycling infrastructure, at least in our region of the island, was simply not as appealing as what one finds in Provence or Tuscany.

If I were to go back to Sicily, I would use a different format for my visit. Thanks to the small roads and relatively large distances (driving from our end of the island to Palermo would have taken somewhere around four hours to more than six, depending on whether one chooses to go straight through the center of the island or drives its perimeter). That may not sound like much, but driving in Italy is a bit different from driving in Texas. I would decide either on three or four locations for a few days' stays each, to be able to see different parts of the island; alternatively, I might consider renting a small campervan since Airbnbs and small hotels are not readily available in the rural areas. A bike tour around the island would face even more severe challenges in regard to accommodations, and not only are the roads narrow and with potholes where the shoulders should be, but they're also quite hilly.

Sicily definitely differs from the other areas of Italy that I have visited over the past 15 or so years. It is in dire need of financial help, but I am skeptical that exports of tomatoes, Nero d'Avola, and lemons will be enough to provide the necessary funds to righten the ship. Tourism undoubtedly plays an important role in the overall picture, but none of this seems to be enough. Maybe more European funding can be marshaled, but those coffers are not as deep as they used to be.

I am glad that we had decided on this trip to Sicily as it allowed us to gather new insights into a millennia-old part of the world that's just two hours away from central Europe.

Jürgen