The last time I spent a month traveling around Sicily, I was hitch-hiking with a friend. It was decades ago. I left with memories of an old man driving a donkey-cart filled with apricots on a back road, of hauntingly beautiful towns deserted during the afternoons and remaining quiet before and afterwards, of generous, warm people who still retained their traditions (I’d met a young man who’d been forced to marry his girlfriend after they accidentally fell asleep and spent the night together.) And I remember a spectacular rocky coast and pristine sea.
I had trepidation in seeing the Sicily of today. I feared bearing witness to soul-altering “progress,” but the pull to return proved stronger.
I rented a car in Palermo, bought a road map and guide of Sicily and set off on the coast towards the east and the city of Cefalú. I’d heard horror stories about the drivers here, but found them mostly respectful and the roads relatively quiet (my being accustomed to NYC drivers and streets may account for this).
But my departure from Palermo presented some challenges. I managed a full city tour while attempting to find the highway and within minutes the skies opened up. I was soon driving through a torrential downpour on a flooded coastal route with limited visibility. Fortunately it was the only bad weather I encountered for the month.
During my usual travels, I prefer to stay in one place for several days or more. Here I tended to hop-scotch from place to place. (The exception was a week stay on the island of Marettimo.) I favored the coast, but was happy to visit the “mountain” towns and central farm lands where tourism is often in its infancy or hasn’t yet arrived.
Sleepy towns, whose beauty had dazzled me, like Ragusa Ibla, Noto, and Siracusa are now major tourist destinations with all the trimmings: Michelin-starred restaurants, upscale hotels, tee-shirt and trinket shops, and electric tourist trains that wind in and out of the narrow streets. It was a stark contrast to the towns I’d known, but that’s not to say they were devoid of charm. And the influx of funds has been used to restore buildings, previously in disrepair, to their original glory.
And was pleased to see a burgeoning art scene in unexpected places.
The history of Sicily is rich and varied and its economy has evolved through the ages. Remnants of its once thriving tuna industry remain.
My trip incorporated a return to certain places and largely places I’d never been.
My week on Marettimo, one of the Egadi islands, was a highlight. It was a welcome respite from the busy towns and dependency on a car. Marettimo is virtually a car-free island. I hiked, ate delicious blackberry “granita,” and was befriended by locals who invited me to an unforgettable, animated evening where discussions rose to loving shouting matches and the fresh seafood we dined on was elevated to an exquisite culinary art.
I used Marettimo as a base to visit the nearby, and more touristy, yet lovely islands of Favignana and Levanzo. However, I was always happy to return home again.
Returning to Trapani where I’d left the car in public parking, led to a minor adventure. The car was no longer there. Theft came to mind, but my wits prevailed-after voicing some choice expletives-and sought assistance in a nearby hotel. The kind receptionist informed me that during my absence there had been the city’s annual street fair. She then spent considerable time investigating the situation for me. My ill-placed car had been towed. After paying the 56€ fine, I was relieved to be united with the vehicle and the belongings I’d left behind. But the car was covered in dust. I joked with the attendant that the fine should include a car wash. I tried cleaning it with the windshield wipers, but the cleaning fluid wasn’t coming out. He disappeared for a moment, returned with a bottle of water, and poured it on my windshield. With clean windows I was ready to hit the road.
I made my way up, up, up to the nearby splendid medieval town Erice. There I indulged in a divine almond pastry, relieved that my car-towing adventure was over.
I headed to the beach and found it in full summer swing. After spending one night in San Capo de Vito I was ready to move on.
Fortunately I found a wonderful B&B in Scopello. It’s a lovely, tiny town neighboring the stunning, quiet Zingaro Natural Reserve, and only an hour outside of Palermo.
During the month, I didn’t see any donkey-carts and I’m not sure if a couple’s inadvertent overnight stay would still result in a shot-gun wedding, but the rocky coasts, pristine waters, generosity and warmth of the people remain.
When I was in Sicily, during my college years, I don’t recall if I’d made it to Palermo. I’d thrown out the journal I’d kept then-too many growing pains to relive while I was still living them. But the Palermo I saw now wouldn’t be familiar anyway.
La Kalsa, a neighborhood so impoverished that Mother Theresa set up a mission there, now has swanky restaurants and wine bars. Other neighborhoods have followed suit. Poverty has not been eradicated, but like the mafia, hard-fought battles to dissolve it have been won.
The assassinations of magistrates Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino in 1992, among countless others, by the mafia, who were the focus of their efforts, stirred the people of Palermo, supported by its mayor, into protests and fighting back. It marked the beginning of the end of the mafia’s seemingly invincible power. Memorials of the mafia’s victims are seen throughout Palermo and Sicily. The mafia remains a potent interest amongst tourists. But the residents, except those selling “The Godfather” tee-shirts, seemingly prefer to honor the fallen while leaving their painful past behind.
The difficulties residents face, like unemployment, are not readily apparent. Markets are bustling, cafes are busy, groups of men and women-rarely together-chat contentedly in public.
And the arts are thriving. This year Palermo is hosting the European biennial of contemporary art and was chosen as the Italian Capital of Culture 2018.
Palermo’s renaissance does justice to its beauty, promise, and people.