A Week in Malta

by David Whiting

[Note: This article is one of the older ones in the Travel SIG archive - 18 years now, but we haven't had many contributions on Malta].

Tuesday - after departing from warm and sunny London, we arrived at dusk - cold, wet, windy! Our self-catering apartment in St Julians, about 20 minutes drive from the airport, was well furnished, but there was no food or drink; fortunately, we had brought some with us - the shops were already shut.

Wednesday - weather was still cold, wet and windy. Still, we were determined to make the most of it. We caught a bus into Valletta, the capital of the island. Many of the local buses are really ancient, up to 60 years old, and we saw several broken-down buses during our stay - although all the buses we took arrived safely! Fares are cheap, but there are no doors, just gaps. Our buses took us along the coast road and waves were crashing over the rocks and beaches. So, occasionally, those sitting opposite the doorways received a soaking!

Valletta is the most heavily fortified town in Europe, with many forts and walls along its coast - it is the largest natural harbour in the Mediterranean. It was made the capital of Malta in 1565 and most of its streets are built on a grid system, although several are very steep. We visited St John's Co-Cathedral (which shares cathedral status with the main church in Mdina, former capital of Malta). It was built in 1577. Its plain exterior hides a richly decorated interior - every square centimetre of the walls, floor and ceiling is decorated with high reliefs, carvings etc. and tombstones on the floor bear knights' coats of arms and trophies. The cathedral museum contains magnificent 17th century tapestries, vestments and hymnbooks. Then we visited the 18-19th century baroque St Paul's Shipwrecked Church, dedicated to the saint who was shipwrecked off the island in AD60. Its decorations are almost as fine as those of St John's Church.

In the early afternoon, it stopped raining and the sun was visible for a while. We went into the former Knights' Hospital, dating from 1575, when it was especially well equipped and could accommodate up to 2,000 patients; it now contains the Malta Experience, a film theatre which shows the history of the island since its first settlement in Neolithic times. Each person uses headphones and uses a dial to select the required language. After the film, it was cold, wet and windy again, so we took the next bus back to our apartment.

Thursday - warm and sunny - as we had expected in the first place! We caught a bus to Valletta, where we were fortunate to see Malta's mounted police - all seven of them -awaiting the arrival of the Canadian ambassador for an official visit. Then we took another bus to Mdina - which had been the capital due to its central location. It is also the highest point of the island, 700 metres above sea level. The name Mdina means "the city" and it was named by the Saracens in the 9th century. The Mdina Experience is a museum with numerous rooms through which you walk to observe life and customs in the island's and city's history.

We also went for a ride in a Karozzin, a horse-drawn carriage. We were taken first to the neighbouring town of Rabat to see St Paul's 16th century church, St Paul's Grotto, where the saint sheltered for three months after his shipwreck, and the town's catacombs. We visited a museum on the site of a Roman villa, containing fine mosaics and other Roman antiquities. Then we were taken back to Mdina to visit the Co-Cathedral, built between 1697-1702. Together with its Cathedral Museum, it was very similar to the Co-Cathedral in Valletta. From its ancient city walls, there are magnificent panoramic views over most of the island. Before we left the city, we stopped at the Mdina Dungeons, a museum of torture and imprisonment from old times - extremely gory in places.

Friday - We took the season's first excursion to Sicily - a long day, beginning at 5.00am and ending at around 1.00am the following morning. We travelled there by catamaran from Valletta to Pozzalo, a journey of a little more than two hours. Local coaches took us into Pozzalo town for breakfast then through the attractive Sicilian countryside, past fruit trees (oranges, lemons, carobs, olives, almonds). The main purpose of the excursion was to visit Mount Etna, Europe's highest active volcano at 3,340 metres - we ascended to 2,000 metres. Snow had fallen earlier that week and was still deep in places yet, in other places, the lava was still warm from the last eruption a few year ago. We could see some houses which had been almost totally buried by lava and others which had survived by a miracle.

Saturday - we hired a car and drove along the coast westwards to travel on the midday ferry to Gozo, the second largest of the five Maltese islands. All roads lead to and from the island's capital, Victoria, and nowhere on the island is more than about ten minutes' drive from it. We first visited the Citadel, the old fortified centre of Victoria, which still contains some ruins abandoned since it was destroyed by the Turks in the 16th century. The cathedral, built between 1697-1711, is less decorated than those on the main island. Victoria has magnificent panoramic views over the island.

Leaving Victoria, we went in search of a sandy beach. First we tried Xlendi, but the beach is only a tiny strip of sand, so we crossed the island and soaked up some sun at Ramla Bay, where there were just a few other people. Three or four were swimming in the sea, but it was almost too cold for us to paddle in! We drove back by way of the Neolithic Ggantija Temples, circular temples with walls made of huge blocks of stone almost intact, dating from around 2,800BC.The people of Malta are quite friendly, but the Gozitans are so hospitable that, if they are expecting guests but have to go out, they leave their keys in the doors! Maltese petrol stations close at 6.OOpm on Saturdays and remain closed all day on Sundays, so we made sure we had enough fuel for Sunday before we left Gozo.

Sunday - we drove east to Marsaxlokk, Malta's largest fishing village. Napoleon's troops landed here in 1798. It has a large colourful market, selling mainly fresh fish and vegetables. The market is only really for Maltese people, but it's very picturesque. Leaving Marsaxlokk, we followed the coast south and west to Wied Iz-Zurrieq to visit the famous Blue Grotto by boat. There are short trips along the coast, in and out of several caves, giving wonderful views of the cliffs. The main cave is called the Blue Grotto because of the way underwater rocks catch the sunlight. Visit the caves in the morning when the sunlight enters them directly.

Near the Blue Grotto is the Hagar Qim Neolithic site, larger than that on Gozo. The temples are much more extensive and it is possible to imagine life in pagan times 4,000 to 5,000 years ago. We returned via Mosta, famous for its huge unsupported dome of St Mary's church, built 1833-1860. It is not as highly decorated as the other large churches we visited, but the size of its dome and proportions were most impressive. A German bomb dropped through the roof in 1942, but it failed to explode; some people call it typically German (or, strictly speaking, Italian, as that was where it was manufactured); others call it a miracle.

Monday - we returned our hire car and went on an excursion called Above and Below. In the morning we boarded a boat at Sliema and cruised around the various harbours and creeks of Valletta. We could see many of the capital's forts and docks during this 90 minute cruise, with a commentary on the places of special interest. After lunch (a big dinner in a smart hotel, although we weren't very hungry!), we boarded a second boat. This one had glass sides below sea level to view the underwater sights off the coast. There is little to see - just a few plants, some rather small fish and some sand.

Tuesday - we caught a local bus to Golden Bay on the west bay of Malta, where we had booked a short horse-riding session along the coast, away from the roads (and potholes!), among the farms and tracks. There were some lovely views along the cliffs and over the sandy bays we passed. The one thing we did not enjoy seeing was the large number of tiny cages used by local people to trap little birds - we felt they were cruel and unnecessary. On reflection, our week in Malta was very enjoyable - not too hectic. You can do things at your own pace - relax and do nothing, or see the sights during the day and go to clubs or casinos at night.

First published in VISA issue 26 (autumn 1997).

Coffee with Mr Big

by James Allen

My abiding image will be of the oranges on the road, surrounded by glass. The upside-down car, the tense faces of the local police and the paramedics treating the two casualties by the side of the road are secondary. The second car I didn't see, but Mara says it was crushed on the side of road. Already the first ambulance had left heading towards a hospital and had passed us. This was the second confirmation in 20 minutes of the assessment we had made in the first hour of driving in Sicily - that unlike most Italian drivers who may kill themselves driving, Sicilian drivers will kill themselves driving.

Sicilian windmill

This was the second day of our three-day trip to Sicily and already we had that feeling of being at home there.

On Friday 1 Feb we had dashed to the airport in the late afternoon to catch a plane to Palermo. Palermo is the capital of Sicily, which is a part of Italy. Sicily is the soccer ball that the foot of Italy is kicking. It's a very old culture dating back to 700BC with the foundations of the Greek culture. Its list of invaders/conquerors reads like a Who's Who of Mediterranean power (Greeks, Romans, Carthaginians, Arabs, Muslims, Spanish, Norman-French, Crusaders, Germans and finally Italians - from a Sicilian point of view). It is also the home of the Mafia; interestingly an organisation which was almost wiped out prior to World War II, but which the USA used and thus reinvigorated to help fight the Germans.

We landed late on the Friday and collected the car - now points mean prizes and since it was really low season we found the car we had booked had changed from a two-door small car to a four-door BMW 3 series (and I later found out was charged at €7 or £5 or $10 per day!) We then plugged in the sat-nag and drove towards our hotel. The first 35 miles of the 36-mile journey was great, the sat-nag taking us wherever, only then to find the road blocked by the police due to a fire. Okay - heading off in another direction the sat-nag rerouted us back to the hotel. Great - this made it worth the investment...

The hotel is on the outskirts of Palermo and it overlooks the small-boat harbour and is one of the top hotels on the island. On arrival we found that we had been upgraded and in the room was a bottle of wine and cheese. We looked around the hotel later and found that it was like a grand country house. We were two of about eight guests - due to the low season. The piano player in the bar started playing when we walked in. Built at the turn of the 19th/20th centuries, the hotel has evolved over the decades: the dining room was in a late 19th century design (gilded but plain - lots of mirrors); the bar was in an 18th century vaulted area; the upstairs dining room (which was closed) was in a wonderful art nouveau design. Wonderful paintings and architecture - it is a great, if overlooked, gem.

On the Saturday morning we headed for the Imperial Roman Villa. This is a UNESCO World Heritage site for in this Roman villa each and every room is decorated with floor mosaics. And it has a lot of rooms. It's due to close very soon to upgrade the roof, which meant that some rooms were closed or the floors covered. Thus the price was reduced, but what we saw took our breath away. The mosaics cover every room - including the toilet - and outside around the gardens. Nearly 2000 years old, the mosaics range from mythical scenes to hunting and fishing to just geometric patterns (these make some 1960s patterns look dull!) The images range in size from two feet high to 10 feet high and are still very bright. We spent a great time walking over the site, surprised by almost every room we stood above.

We had a coffee and headed back towards the hotel and detoured to see the cathedral of Monreale. This is an 11th century Norman church that was covered internally with mosaics representing a number of Bible stories, all on a gold background. The central figure of Christ is over 40 feet wide. Sunlight and electric lights make the gold tiles glow in the semi-darkness. It was incredible.

Also incredible was the location. Trust me when I say don't drive here - narrow one-way roads made travel around the area horrible (reversing up a narrow one way street after a mistake is the second image I want to forget). Ironically I made the comment on arrival back to the hotel that I was pleased I hadn't scratched the car, then, when stepping out I noticed that the side of the bumper on the passenger side was badly scratched.

On Sunday we visited the Valley of the Temples - this is another UNESCO World Heritage site, on the coast on the south of the island. It's a large site (over three square miles) with a series of 2500 year old temples, many lined up along a ridge about a mile from the coast. Behind and below the ridge stood the town, which is mostly gone, but is replaced with almond trees, which were in bloom when we were there.

The remains of the temples ranged from a raised pile of earth to one of the best, if not the best-preserved Greco-Romano temple in the world. The temple stands now because, in about 700AD, it was converted into a Christian church. Although roofless, the columns and inner temple all stand. The sandstone colour makes the temple stand proud on the ridge.
We then headed to look at some items further up the hill, but found that the museum and access to the site was shut - it was Sunday afternoon and being the Sunday before Lent was the local children's festival, combined with the almond festival. So we headed down the coast to another site that we found was also closed and so headed to the beach and wandered around the area. This was very relaxing and calming - a bay with perhaps three miles of fine white beach, backed by pine trees.

It was returning from here that we passed the site of the first accident, but neither of us saw the cars or people involved, only the police and the seven mile queue of traffic that had built up. It was as we turned to head north across the island that we were stopped and then let past the second accident. There were about eight cars let through, and what's remarkable is that we all travelled together towards Palermo at the speed limit for the next hour. Cars passed the group, but our driving became exemplary.

Segesta

On Monday we headed for the other contender in Sicily of the best-preserved Greco-Romano temple. This is Segesta, a Greek town built on a hilltop before the Romans arrived and rebuilt it. Then the Normans arrived and built a castle. On the hilltop today are remains from all three eras. The best preserved (and reconstructed) is the Roman theatre. This looks out over the valley and towards the sea. The wonderful backdrop and setting would have taken the crowd's eyes off the players in all but the most spectacular plays.

We then went down to the 2500-year-old temple. This is larger than any standing in the Valley of the Temples and we were free to walk around and in the temple. The roof and any internal fittings have gone, but the size of each column is huge; each is about 18 feet in diameter. Again built in sandstone, it sits nestled in the valley below the fortified hilltop and would have dominated the approach to the town.

We then headed down to Marsala, where the fortified wine comes from. Yes - we had a small tasting and purchased a couple of bottles. One we couldn't resist was named Terra Arse. We then headed back towards the airport, but detoured via the local saltpans. These Roman saltpans are still used today and present a beautiful romantic vision of the whole area, framed with ancient windmills for pumping water. Being low season, it was quiet but sunny and warm - a very relaxing area.

Now we hadn't seen anyone remotely looking like the Mafia yet (not that they advertise their profession), but that hadn't stopped us commenting on the employment of various scary looking individuals we saw/met. But driving back, we pulled into a small local café. As we did so a large, dark Mercedes also pulled in. Out stepped an older, well-dressed man (Mr Big?) with two less well-dressed men.

As we all walked in the well-dressed man asked if we were German. I replied "No, English." At which he suddenly became very friendly in a "we can't communicate but we can smile a lot" way. He asked a couple of simple questions in Italian which we could answer, and then tried a third for which we didn't have the Italian to understand. He then just raised his voice, asked the question and someone else - who had already been in the bar - asked us the question in English. We answered and continued to try and talk. It was all very friendly and fun.

They had a coffee and soon left and we finished our impromptu and incredibly cheap meal and then went to pay before we left. But we both had the feeling as we walked out that the Mr Big was perhaps a 'Mr Very Big'. A likely escape - maybe...


First published in VISA 79 (Jun08)

Sunshine and Death

by Neil Matthews

The message on the answerphone was ominous. "Intourist have rung about your holiday. Please call us." The group who were due to accompany us to Moscow and St. Petersburg had cancelled their booking and the trip was off. The option to spend more money on the same itinerary via dearer hotels did not appeal. A thought occurred; what about Sicily -a new area of Italy to explore, with the promise of good food, fine weather and all the other Italian virtues? Sicily it was, then - and specifically Taormina.

Taormina is on the east coast of the island, halfway between Messina in the north-east (just across from mainland Italy) and Catania, the island's main airport. Taormina is Sicily's most famous resort and it exists at least as much for the tourist as for the locals. It clings to hilltops overlooking the Mediterranean, like many Italian towns. It boasts clean, uncluttered beaches, also like many Italian towns. In addition, the stylish main street, Corso Umberto, encourages visitors to shop until their bank balance drops on clothing, pottery and souvenirs. But Taormina has three special features, which set it apart... a volcano, a theatre and some very pretty gardens.

The closeness of Mount Etna cannot help but cast a shadow over the immediate area. There have been no recent eruptions, but the best way to see this phenomenon is definitely from some distance away, lending not only enchantment but greater safety to the view. In some ways, despite its grotesqueness, Etna is a reminder of reality in a location at least semi-detached from that state.

There is no better place to see Etna than from the Greek theatre on the far side of the town, set into a hill. The sea, volcano and other mountains and rocks make an incredible backdrop for the theatre, which could apparently hold almost 10,000 people. It's hard to see how any drama could compete with such natural beauty. The Romans tried to improve upon nature by encasing the theatre in brick - an act of philistine clumsiness.

 A less historic, but more tranquil location, is the Villa Communale, a large set of gardens cultivated by Florence Trevelyan, an Englishwoman who married a local and settled in the town earlier in this century. She bequeathed the gardens to the town so that everyone might enjoy them. Children play, the budgies and lovebirds in the aviary chirp and other visitors sip their drinks in the bar while looking at the sea, the volcano, the orange and lemon trees and the many other exotic varieties of plant life.

Taormina is only one side of a multifaceted story. Further south, but still on the east coast, lies Syracuse, founded as a Greek colony. This city was, at its zenith, one of the most powerful in the ancient world. With the inventive aid of Archimedes, Syracuse twice repelled attempted invasions from Athens in the 5th century BC. Its Greek theatre could hold up to 20,000 and the view from the top is impressive, as is a very pretty harbour.

 Arabs and Normans have also left sizeable footprints in the sands of Sicilian history, a fact illustrated clearly by a visit to Palermo, the capital, and nearby Monreale. The periods of Arab and then Norman rule (c. 830 - 1200 AD) were, in many ways, the high noon of the island's prestige and influence. Both sets of conquerors showed religious and cultural tolerance; they were happy to use the administrative and creative skills of all groups. Monreale's Cathedral is, as a result, a bizarre and beautiful mixture of Arab and Norman architecture. Byzantines were also specially contracted to complete the work. The Palatine Chapel in Palermo, built for King Roger II in the 12th century, is distinctive and impressive for similar reasons. The speed of completion of both these works hints at the financial prosperity of the island at that time.

Since then, Sicily's influence has drained away. This was at least partly because of the steady expansion of the world in perceptual terms. The Pacific Rim or Suez, for example, had no strategic importance then; the ancient and medieval worlds still revolved around the Mediterranean and Sicily occupied a vital position at its centre. A steady decline in fortunes set in under centuries of Spanish rule. The nadir was probably reached during the European wars of the late 18th / early 19th centuries when the island became, in effect, a bargaining counter. A glimmer of hope came with Italian unification in 1861, followed swiftly by disappointment as the Italians, like the Romans before them, simply used Sicily as a breadbasket.

The political decline and the rise of the Mafia may have encouraged a certain morbidity in the Palermitans. Palermo's equivalent of Mount Etna in the east and the Mafia all over the island is the Catacombs - a display of corpses, neatly categorised, often in their original clothes. There are many empty spaces...

Although its basis is Italian cuisine, Sicilian cooking reflects many tastes. The Arab influence lies behind some of the more exotic items. For a truly hot starter, pasta arrabiata (tomato and chilli sauce) will kick-start the palate. Seafood is a speciality, especially swordfish. Involtini (thin slices of meat or fish rolled up with a filling of breadcrumbs, herbs, cheese etc) are delicious, as are arancini. These are so called because they resemble oranges; they are a layer of rice and breadcrumbs surrounding a meat and vegetable filling. The most famous dessert is cassata, a concoction of ice cream or (in its cake form) ricotta cheese, studded with candied fruit. Many shops display sweets based on almond paste and fruit or vegetable shapes made with marzipan -although it is hard to imagine anyone eating (for instance) a whole marzipan orange.

 This section would be incomplete without reference to granitas, refreshments too solid to be a drink but too fluid to be an ice cream. Flavours are manifold - some examples are lemon, coffee, peach and strawberry.

 A week spent in Sicily seems brief, but the impressions will last. The character of the island and its people is deeply divided. The sunshine, the natural abundance and beauty, the good food and a colourful heritage are the positive side of the equation; the negative side includes the fatalism, the Mafia and Mount Etna (although volcanic lava has enabled the soil to flourish as well as bringing death). The two sides are inseparable; after all, the most sparkling jewels provoke the basest emotions.

The cultural and historical interest can keep a visitor as fully occupied as can the fine art of relaxing in what is a beautiful place. The attractions appeal to a wide age range and to visitors from all corners of the world. They will testify that, whatever you do when you're there, visiting Sicily is one of life's pleasures.

First published in VISA issue 17 (July 1995)

On Days Like These... (Sicily)

By Neil Matthews


‘On days like these, I wonder what became of you
Maybe today you’re singing songs with someone new...’




Piazza IX April

Sicily has had to learn many songs in its time.  The Greeks, the Romans, the Vandals, the Arabs, the Normans, the Hohenstaufens, the Angevins, the Spanish, the Bourbons: they all occupied the island at one time or another.  Now Sicily is part of Italy.  As the midday sun burns down on the chessboard pattern of Piazza IX April in Taormina on the east coast, the two guitarists sitting under one of the oleander trees give yet another rendition of ‘Volare’.  There are plenty of Englishmen (and women and children) walking past, or slumped in cafe seats, but it’s too hot for them or the dogs to get particularly mad.  The soundtrack changes to ‘New York, New York’, perhaps as an indirect tribute to those Sicilians and other Italians who sought a new life across the Atlantic.

After a break for a strawberry granita – a type of runny sorbet, very refreshing – it’s time to saunter down the Corso Umberto, Taormina’s main street.  The town sits on the side of a hill and little side streets and alleys offer plenty of opportunities to stray from the central path of retail therapy. Vicolo Stretto is the narrowest, requiring a sideways turn to gain access.  Curious crowds brandishing camera phones look on, as a model and photographer dart on and off the Corso for their latest assignment.  The model totters into a side street and lounges across the steps in her slinky black dress and steep heels.  She is long-haired, slim, young and attractive: the photographer is the opposite in every respect.  He has to be diplomatic; if the model decided to hurry off further down the side street, there’s no guarantee he could squeeze into the gap to follow her.

Back in the Corso Umberto, all retail life is here.  Designer clothes devoid of price labels include some more improbably high heeled shoes and fur coats from the new winter collection; one shop window even has a throne which must be the last word in chintz.  Antique wooden furniture spills out into the street, while paintings and knickknacks sit awaiting buyers.  Postcards of local views of the sea and of Mount Etna, fridge magnets, puppets of Saracen soldiers all abound.  Street traders take little jelly-like objects and throw them onto towels on the pavement where, with a splat, they roll up into balls with dots for eyes and a mouth.  It’s hard to avoid wondering if anybody ever buys any of this.  The street is a real and figurative shop window for Sicily: bright and cheerful, the shadows inside.
At the far end of Corso Umberto, past the road which leads to the ancient Greek theatre, is the BAM bar.  It claims to offer tea, on an island where coffee rules, except at hotel breakfast tables.  Coffee, granitas and brioches seem to be the most popular items with its customers. 

Strawberry granita

Yet, implausible as it may be, tea could have gained a place in the life of Sicily, if history had taken another path. This year is the 200th anniversary of a short-lived British constitution in Sicily, in the middle of a nine year period in which British troops occupied the island.  The island, with its strategic position in the middle of the Mediterranean and close to British-held Malta, saw almost 15,000 British troops arrive by mid-1806, aiming to keep sea lanes open and to act as a springboard for attacks on Napoleon’s southern flank.  A succession of British representatives took varying views on how to secure the island, and whether political rule was needed in addition to military occupation.  A new constitution complete with British-style bicameral parliament came into force in 1812, but it failed to be effective, not least due to its refusal to vote to raise taxes.  Eventually, as the war turned Britain’s way, the new Foreign Secretary, Lord Castlereagh, believed that possessing Malta and the Ionian Islands would be enough: keeping control of Sicily might alienate British allies such as Austria.  By the end of 1816 the British constitution had been abolished and Sicily returned to rule from Naples – until a certain Garibaldi arrived in 1860.

That wasn’t the end of English invasions: from then on, they usually came in the form of tourists.  As the 19th century wore on, a growing section of the newly prosperous middle classes – and a smaller proportion of working people – obtained the time and the money to start to travel abroad.  Following in the pioneering footsteps of Thomas Cook, a number of new travel agencies sprang up, with Italy and Sicily among the destinations they covered.  One of these was the Toynbee Travellers’ Club, a society set up within Toynbee Hall in London, whose object was ‘to provide education and the means of recreation and enjoyment for the people of the poorer districts of London and other great cities’.  By the late 1880s the Travellers’ Club was organising educational tours to the Continent, with reading lists and lectures held in advance. 

A logbook still survives of an autumn 1901 trip to Naples and Sicily for 29 members of the Club – 19 men and 10 women.  They departed on 2 Oct from Cannon Street in London, going to Ostend, Lucerne, Milan, Bologna, Rome, Naples and Sicily.  They would spend 13 days in Sicily. The cost was estimated at £20 including second class rail, first class steamer, accommodation, ‘plain’ breakfasts, lunch, attendance and tips – with wine extra.  (Around this time a skilled industrial worker in full employment could expect to earn over £200 per annum; an elementary school teacher could expect to earn around £150 per annum.) 
The unnamed female author of the logbook recorded that the steam ferry to Messina contained ‘Sicilian gentlemen in riding boots, Piedmontese soldiers, nuns, Toynbee travellers, and peasantry with fruit.  There was also on board one of the Nelson family, who still own an estate on the island [at Bronte].’  Local life was easy to observe: ‘The home life of the people is almost public as every crowded living room gives on to the main narrow street, all the doors are open and the people live on their thresholds, chatting, knitting, mending or preparing cooking with their swarthy little bambinos crawling and scrambling around their feet.’  Some of the party climbed Etna in time to see the sunrise: the logbook author noted dryly that ‘any man may climb Etna but only a fool does it twice’. 

The tour visited Palermo, Agrigento and Syracuse before starting on the return trip to the Italian mainland and eventually home - ‘Travelling teaches one that the necessities of life are few, and the luxuries many!’  The tour leader, Thomas Okey, received a number of gifts from the group including a revolving bookcase.

The Toynbee group, like many who have travelled before and since, saw themselves as ‘travellers’ possessing more taste and discernment than mere ‘tourists’.  However, though Thomas Cook’s business had started to open up Europe for more English travellers years before, true mass travel would not arrive until the jet age of the 1960s. Meanwhile, Taormina’s reputation grew, and not just for mainstream family tourism.  DH Lawrence stayed here for a few years and wrote Lady Chatterley’s Lover.  Gay men found a refuge from the prevailing (dis)tastes of their era, as some of the saucier postcards on sale in the Corso can testify.

Even today, however, some things about Taormina are recognisable from its long history as a tourist resort.  Part of this is due to its location, accessible only by one of those hair-raising drives around hairpin bends which Italian coaches negotiate with inches to spare.  The locals may not live their whole lives in the streets any more, but they still preen and pose on the passeggiata (evening walk), pausing to wait for a newly-wed couple to emerge from one of the local churches.  Then there are the waves of day trippers (from cruise ships these days), stopping here for a brief glimpse of the town and some lunch before moving on to the next stop on their itinerary.  It’s far too hot to explore much beyond the town, so who is wiser - those who dip in and out of the town like the shallow end of a swimming pool, or those who wallow here for days without exploring further?

For, make no mistake, Taormina is a tourist trap: a bright, sunny, welcoming trap, to be sure, where you can wander from one cafe to the next, or take the cable car down to the coast or a bus to the archaeological park in Giardini Naxos. Or, if it’s the dog days of July and August, with temperatures in the nineties, you can find the shade and read one of Andrea Camilleri’s crime novels, set in south-western Sicily and featuring Inspector Montalbano.  The French used to say that Paris is not France; Taormina certainly isn’t more than a glimpse of Sicily. You’ll have to go further – to Palermo or Agrigento, or south to Syracuse – to find out more.  But as an introduction to this large, mysterious island, Taormina probably can’t be bettered.  And on days like this, as the heat bleaches everything around you, and you’re looking for a good place to eat pasta con sarde (pasta with sardines) or the best ice cream in town, then – to coin a phrase – I’ve got a great idea...

First published in VISA 105 (2012)