Arrivederci Sicily

It’s hard to believe that just over a week has passed since my last post as so much has happened since then. When I last wrote we were crossing from the Aeolian Islands to Cefalu for the final few days of our sailing holiday.

We approached Cefalu after a six-hour motor-sail from Filicudi and were all captivated by the massive rock sitting behind the old town. Known as the promontory of Hercules, it is 270 metres high and topped by the ruins of the ancient Temple of Diana. From the water it was a very impressive sight and made us eager to start exploring.

Later that evening when the heat was starting to subside, we took the marina’s free shuttle to check out the old town. We wandered along the stone streets to the Piazza del Duomo, the heart of most Sicilian towns. As we entered, we were again awestruck by the rock and the cathedral that dominated the piazza. The twin towered cathedral of Norman origin, dates back to 1131, and is said to have been erected as the result of a vow made to the Holy Saviour by King Roger II of Sicily when he survived a storm and landed on the city’s beach.

We found a table at a bar and ordered drinks. There was a breeze and it was really nice to just sit and admire the beautiful surroundings. The piazza was buzzing with local families out for a drink and a walk. Some tourists wandered about taking photos, others sat on the steps of the cathedral to relax and chat.

After our drink we wandered the streets looking for a place to have dinner. It was still hot so we headed towards the water looking for some relief. The beach was busy despite it being almost dark. The sun setting on the horizon was stunning and we stood to admire the view. Two archways overlooking the water were a popular destination for sightseeing and Instagrammers. It was an amazing sight and some of us declared Cefalu to be the most beautiful Sicilian town we’d visited so far.

The shuttle drop-off point was a laundromat which are so often hard to find when sailing. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, so the next morning armed with two giant bags of sheets, towels and clothes, we made our way back to town to drop off the washing and to find a café for breakfast. As we walked we heard a man calling as he drove around in a small truck. It was laden with fruit and vegetables and he stopped many times to make a sale.

Breakfast menus in Sicily are very limited compared with home. Most cafes offer coffee, brioche and croissants, which they refer to as cornettos. Unless you are ordering an espresso (short black) or a cappuccino (much stronger than at home) you can never be sure what to expect when ordering a coffee. The same drink can vary greatly between cafes. A flat white or café latte doesn’t exist in Sicily. Latte macchiato is on most menus and is similar to a café latte, but I’ve had many different versions, some very milky and in a tall glass, and almost always with long life milk (yuk!). The croissants however are almost always delicious and a variety of fillings are available – always apricot jam (referred to as marmalade) and chocolate, and mostly pistachio, vanilla cream (custard) and sweetened ricotta.

We went into town later that evening and made our way back to the piazza for an evening drink. There’d been a wedding at the cathedral before we arrived and many of the guests were still milling about in their beautiful dresses and suits waiting for cars to take them to the reception.

After our drink we wandered back to the waterfront stopping at an ancient Roman bath house we’d read about. The baths are fed by a natural spring and the water is knee deep and icy cold. I took my shoes off and stood for a few minutes in one of the baths. It was freezing but a great way to cool down. Just like the previous night, the beaches were busy with locals and tourists trying to escape the heat.

As we walked away from the waterfront the crowds thinned and we found ourselves in a less touristy neighbourhood. After dinner we walked back to the boat rather than take the shuttle. The night air was much cooler and it was the perfect way to end the day.

The next day we left the marina and motored to our final destination, just a few hours away.

For the last six years our boat has been stored at a boatyard in Preveza, Greece. Our decision to sail in Italy meant that we needed to find a new home for Izabela. After some research we settled on Artemar Marina in Termini Imerese, which is near Palermo on the north-west coast of Sicily. Packing up the boat and preparing for it to be lifted out of the water takes a few days and is hot, hard work. We’d booked an airconditioned apartment near the marina so that we could come and go from the boat as needed.

There was also a need to meet local requirements for checking the boat out of the water. In Greece this involved handing in our transit log to the customs office after it had been stamped by the port police. It sounds very simple but each year the process changed a little and as a result I’ve had to take the long hot walk between the two authorities many times.

In Italy we’d been told to take our Constituto (the Italian version of the transit log) to the Guardia Coastiera (coast guard). We sought advice from the marina who told us we would have to wait until Monday as their office was closed all weekend. We were flying out on Monday so that was not an option. I won’t bore you with the details other than to say that I spent a long hot Saturday afternoon sorting it all out. The marina staff were unbelievably helpful, looking for alternative solutions on our behalf and even driving me to the various authorities.

After we’d cleaned and packed up the boat, it was lifted out of the water and moved to the boat yard. The process was very different to what we’d experienced in Greece but the marina staff were professional and we were confident our boat would be safe and secure until our return next year.

That evening we went out for final drinks and dinner with our crew who were leaving the following morning. We discovered a bar in a tiny piazza set back from a busy street. Across from the bar was a church with its name – W Maria – up in lights above the door. It was unusual but quite charming. The church was full for the Saturday evening service. As I peeked in, I could see many of the women looking for some relief from the heat, their handheld fans swishing back and forth as they sang.

As the evening wore on, more people gathered at the bar for drinks and snacks. The menu included pinse, which we’d not seen before. They are like a small artisan style pizza and we ordered a few to share. One was topped with sliced roast pork, sundried tomatoes, stracciatella cheese and basil, while another came with smoked salmon, rocket, stracciatella and lemon peel. The third had mortadella, stracciatella and pistachio pesto. They were all delicious!

It was a beautiful balmy evening and as we meandered back to our apartment, we saw many people sitting on kitchen chairs in the street, trying to cool down. During the day the streets had seemed dirty and a bit ugly. By night, as the streetlights shone on the old cobblestones, they looked beautiful. We couldn’t believe the difference.

We took a train back to Catania the following day, as our flight home would be leaving from there, and stayed in a hotel overlooking the Piazza del Duomo. We loved seeing the elephant statue in the centre of the piazza finally revealed, as it had been covered with scaffolding during our last visit.

It was so nice to be spending our last night in a place that we were now quite familiar with and after dinner had one last drink in a bar on the piazza to enjoy our beautiful surroundings one last time as we listened to a very talented busker singing nearby. That night I slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the chaos that would greet us the following morning.

At 7.45am we’d each received an email stating that our flight – the first in a connecting series of three to take us home – was cancelled due to an issue at the airport. A check on Google revealed that the issue was a fire from the previous night and that the airport would be closed for at least two days. We first tried to find a way to meet our connecting flight in Paris which would leave at 11.30 that night, but after exhausting all possible options we contacted the airline to find another way home.

After a few stressful hours we were put on a flight from Rome, via Amsterdam, Singapore and Bali, departing two days later. But we would need to get ourselves to Rome and as the airport was closed, flying was not an option. After a few more hours of planning, buying tickets online and booking accommodation for that night, we took a train from Catania to Messina and a ferry from Messina to Villa San Giovanni. We’d sailed past Villa San Giovanni on way out of the Messina Strait a few short weeks earlier and now we were unexpectedly back, watching the swordfish boats, yachts and ferries from land.

Early the next morning we took a six-hour fast train ride to Rome and then onto Fiumicino. It was 43 degrees in Rome and we were all exhausted but happy to be near the airport and ready to fly home. Our final few days were chaotic, hot and a bit stressful at times, but in the end were just a tiny blot on what had been six wonderful weeks sailing in Greece and Italy.

This is my final post for now and so I will take the opportunity to say a huge thanks to my very good friends and co-owners of Izabela, Robyn and Roger. Without you both none of this would be possible and I’m forever grateful that we threw caution to the wind and bought Izabela. We have had so many wonderful adventures together and I look forward to many more. Also, a big thanks to our friends and crew – Brian, Danny, Peter, Alan and Josie.

Until next year … arrivederci!