Dreaming International: Sicilia

The Lombardo family tour of White Lotus sets (trip-mastered by my dad who hadn’t even seen White Lotus and was annoyed by our trilling of the theme song in the rented van) began on the beaches of Cefalù.

What my dad had planned as a sunrise hike to the cliffs over the city, we managed to delay until mid-morning, only to discover Parco della Rocca only opened at 8:30am anyway. We also discovered a bag of Italian chocolate-filled cookies left on a crevasse just for us. That tided us over until a lunch in the main plaza shadowed by the cathedral.

Tripi

Next stop on the tour was the Lombardo ancestral hometown—although the reception was surprising given the expectation set by White Lotus. Tripi is a village terraced into the mountains of Sicily, now with population of only 108 people. Its little plazas look out over green mountains, and its streets wind between abandoned houses. Thanks to the work my genealogy- and Italy-obsessed boyfriend had done, we were greeted by the mayor, the archivist (Giuseppe), and the archeologist upon our arrival. We were also immediately greeted by the first of many Lombardos we’d meet—Pippo, a strabismic man with unfortunate unmet need of his long-lost relative’s ophthalmologic services. We couldn’t directly find any living town members on our family tree, but many with the same names as our ancestors. The shopkeeper at the local store was a Lombardo, and the chef a the one local restaurant was a Lombardo. When the mayor heard we were descended from a Lemmo, he called up multiple of his older relatives to see if any remembered the common person. Giuseppe and the archeologist took us to the house where we think my dad’s grandfather lived, now with a tree growing through the roof and only 4 people remaining in the neighborhood, including Giuseppe, his mom, and his grandma. They unlocked the neighborhood church where my grandparents (and many ancestors before) were baptized, confirmed, and married. Additionally, they unlocked the crown jewel church at the very peak of the town. Every year, on March 22, the area is packed with visitors for the festival of San Vincenzo, namesake to my great grandfather and many others. Next, they gave us a tour of the tiny museum and developing Ancient Greek ruins of Abakainon.

When aforementioned boyfriend had to have urgent finger surgery and miss out on the trip, I was promoted to chief interpreter. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to fill the role without any preparation, but then I ended up being able to understand 90% of the tour and really enjoy the language.

A highlight was the lunch at Trattoria Papa. The only seating was a picturesque balcony with a perfect view. Chef Lombardo brought out a set menu of bread with olive oil, charcuterie, antipasti of sautéed greens, caponata, parmigiana di melanzane, arancini, and a first main course of pasta alla norma. We couldn’t even accept the second main course of fish. There were Sicilian red wine, orange-infused amaro, espresso, and finally local cookies with swirls mimicking Greek columns.

Next stop was an unreal villa in the foothills of Mount Etna, owned by an Australian couple, Steve and Alexandra. The outdoor space included a private tennis court, multiple patios and dining spots, a pizza oven, a wood-fueled hot tub, a hammock, a fruit tree orchard, and fantastic subtropical plants. The White Lotus ceramic Moor's heads were everywhere.

After driving through fields of lava rock, we took a cable car over swaths of finer lava rocks towards the summit of Mount Etna. We hiked on lava pebbles before nearly being blown away. Grandma stole a rock while waiting for us at the cable car station.

The prettiest city was Taormina. There’s a reason all the resorts are there, including the Four Seasons hosted in an old palace, AKA The White Lotus. Every town in Sicily had cobblestone streets, carved stone archways, alleyway lookouts to the sea, balconies heavy with dangling flowers and overgrown succulents—but Taormina was to the max. Driving around said steep, narrow streets in the oversized manual van nearly killed my father.

Teatro Antico ruins allowing a picturesque view of Taormina and the Mediterranean below

Isola Bella was my absolute favorite. It is a tiny island only reachable by walking over a shallow sandbar, after hiking down to the main beach. In the 1960s, all the components of a house were built into the rock, with rooms and pools nestled into different alcoves of the island, separated by little paths through gorgeous plants. I liked imagining residing there and hosting parties in the botanical gardens.

Arancini

Pistachio pasta

In Siracusa, we stayed in an adorable apartment with a balcony (always) above the fish market on the little peninsula of Ortigia. I loved swimming in the ocean and running along the outer wall of the peninsula. We visited more ruins: Apollonion casually in the center of the city and the Parco Archeologico Neapolis further out. The Neapolis was super cool park that you can roam around, sometimes coming upon ancient ruins, sometimes coming upon modern sculptures and caves.

Ear of Dionysius cave

Next White Lotus day trip was Noto, a luminescent baroque masterpiece. We sat on the cathedral steps at golden hour listening to a street trio’s music, then walked to an outdoor dinner of mostly tagliere, wine, bread, and valerian (tender Italian green) under the hanging street lights. We missed their flower festival by only one week, where flower petals form intricate sidewalk designs.

Finally, we ended in Palermo. Palermo felt the most like a real city. Still, every corner to which we wandered on foot was gorgeous and historic. Sicilian architecture was mostly like northern Italy but with palm trees interrupting the skylines and cacti the sidewalks— and with a countryside marked by old abandoned houses. We hit Via Maqueda perfectly on Saturday night to see its packed chaos, the Bourbon Street of Sicily.