It felt like the party was over when we came back to the campsite on Sunday night. All the weekend campers had gone, taking with them their bustle, chatter and liveliness; they’d gone back to Messina, Catania, Siracusa to return to their working week, leaving the rather staid Brits, Swedes, Germans and Austrians to do the washing up, metaphorically speaking. It was quiet but we missed the vitality of the Sicilians, assembled en masse. Do you remember the Spanish last year? I described being surrounded by them, like being in a cage of parrots; not so the Italians, it’s more like being in a garage of Ducati motorbikes all burbling away, with the odd rev from time to time. Meanwhile, in the background, brooding high above us, lurks Etna, puffing away like some old uncle, who doesn’t want to give up the cigarettes just yet.

We are on a small and convivial site at Giardini di Naxos, south of Taormina where we decided to stay put for a few days. We’ve had a few too many exciting encounters with narrow streets, wandering pedestrians, impatient drivers, double-parked cars and so on. To be honest, I don’t think I have ever been as worried going round a mountain bend, as here in Sicily, the drivers are just so unpredictable and impatient,: you never know if someone might be coming round the corner aiming straight for you. ‘Bigger, fatter’ works only up to a point! Do not be agitated by toots on the horn, they simply mean ‘Watch out I’m coming/I’m here’ ; similarly do not flash your lights at them, as it could lead to all sorts of problems, since over here, it means ‘I’m coming!’!
We had too much excitement finding ourselves in the windswept, hilltop town of Agira looking for a mythical waste point. The streets got narrower and the turns tighter and tighter, we were pretty lost, until we were befriended by a kind young man who asked us where we wanted to go ‘Down!’ I said, so he kindly showed us where to go..it was complicated and we never did find the waste point! He did ask us what on earth we were doing up there…..
“What about Scicli, Modica and Ragusa?” You are shouting at me…..(or maybe not?) Well, we visited all three towns, all rebuilt in Baroque style after a great earthquake in 1693. They are all beautiful and built on hills (NB this is how Sicilians keep their weight down, puffing up and down all the hilly towns) and are awash with churches. They make chocolate in Modica and Scicli has Montalbano connections, Ragusa is very quiet and built on either side of a rock escarpment. OK? We didn’t go to Noto, which is supposed to be the star of these Baroque towns but we were all Baroqued out by then and just admired it as we drove past…
After our stay at Donnalucata, we turned the south east corner of Sicily, leaving the rolling waves of the Mediterranean for the flat calm of the Ionian Sea. It was quite a change. We stayed overnight on a rocky promontory with only a picnicking group of Arab men for company for the afternoon; we charged their phones for them and bade each other a friendly farewell when they left at dusk. It was just us and the sea, not a dog in sight or hearing, nor any awful street lights to disturb our sleep. And so it remained, yes really.
On to Syracuse. A truly beautiful city, which I would return to happily. It has probably some of the most beautiful squares I have ever seen, antiquities galore, not just a Greek but also a Roman theatre and so on…..did you know Archimedes came from Syracuse? No, nor did I…So we soaked up the sights and the sites and tramped the streets but alas, we could not sleep! Whether it was one coffee too many, the sirens, the traffic or the barking dog I don’t know but I was pretty tired the next day….so after the museum we drove off again, this time heading inland.
Central Sicily was not how I’d imagined it at all. I was expecting rugged and rocky, like Spain but it was rolling green hills and dry stone walls, a bit like Wales with palms. That was the strangest thing, this wonderful green, almost northern landscape, then palms and prickly pears dotted everywhere. The Greeks must have thought they’d landed on their feet when they arrived here: it is just so rich with its volcanic soil. No doubt it looks different in August but it is really striking how fertile it is, with some areas being given over to arable farming. There are also cows, sheep and goats, usually with bells……As I’ve mentioned before, the island is groaning under the weight of its fruit and vegetables. Oranges are on sale everywhere at ridiculously low prices: beautiful blood oranges and something known as Brazilian oranges…..what are they I wonder, the imagination boggles….I’m so addicted to the blood oranges I’ve never tried them but clearly I must! Fennel and artichokes are also in season. Whatever possessed me to fry artichokes in a campervan with a cooking space of about 2′ x3′ and very little work surface, I do not know but I did. Things got even more challenging when we decided we needed more kitchen paper from under the seat and we had to up-end it, so that cushions, seat cushions, towels joined in the fun….the artichokes were very good though.
That night of the artichokes, we were parked alongside a cobbled road overlooking a valley near the excavations at Morgantina. Another quiet night but next morning, as we were lying in bed, we suddenly heard an awful crash at the door; leaping to our feet we found a large boulder under the van, which hadn’t been there the night before, it had fallen from the stone wall behind us but fortunately the van was undamaged.
We drove on to visit an impressive gorge in the mountains. Unfortunately, because it is low season, the Museum of Land and the Mediterranean Gardens were closed,though nobody mentioned this at the ticket office…ho hum we are getting used to the Sicilian way, where you expect things to be closed or not working or unfinished or the bus to Taormina leaving 5 minutes early, as it did today. You can imagine the poor tourists puffing up the road to catch it in a state of total astonishment, no that wasn’t us! We are getting canny in our old age.
So onwards to the mainland. We’ve enjoyed beautiful, overpriced Taormina perched high above its lovely bay and it was fun to see Savoca, where parts of ‘The Godfather’ were filmed. We’ve enjoyed this site with our friendly but not overbearing neighbours. You can borrow screwdrivers, ask for advice on where to visit, find lemons on your outdoor table but no jolly organising or games. Hooray! And yes, we’ve really enjoyed Sicily, warts and all: ignore the driving, the litter, the seeming rudeness of some people and enjoy the weather, the food, the history, the beauty of the country and the kindness of many people.
So from the land of Count Roger ( yes, I think of Michael Palin too and the giggling Roman soldiers) I bid you farewell until the mainland.