A Walk Above the Clouds in the Orange Groves

Hello, Sicily, I’ve arrived to spend the winter! It’s the end of November, and in Latvia everything is "bad" again with the infamous virus and restrictions. Yes, if you read the previous issue (I'mperfekt Spring/2023), you already know I hate winter.

We land at Palermo airport. The moment we get into the car, it starts pouring rain like crazy. So much so, I’m driving barely 20 km/h because you can’t see a thing. In my mind, I’m thinking about the 300 km ahead and wondering when we’ll reach our destination — Marina di Ragusa. A small seaside town where we were supposed to stay just one month, but ended up staying until mid-January.

My first wedding couple, whom I photographed years ago, lives in Sicily. Thanks to them, I have access to insider tips about the best sights, local traditions, and anything else I want to ask Iveta.

After many stops, photo ops from the car and occasional highway jumps, we arrive at our house in the evening. Along the way, we’re stopped by carabinieri — big guns over their shoulders — probably because of my driving speed (or slowness). But really, how else can I drive when my eyes are darting to both sides of the road? The two officers are incredibly charming. Once they realize we’re “turisto turisto,” they use a translation app to ask where we’re headed and wish us a safe journey.

We arrive exhausted — of course the flight was super early (and I’m still a night owl), and I’m not yet accustomed to Italian driving style (and I'm the only driver). After a few weeks though, I’m driving like a local — skipping signals, honking, overtaking on mountain roads. Still, we rally and head down to the harbor for a drink. It’s about 16°C (late November, late evening), and I already feel like I could stay here forever.

Morning. I roll up the blinds and — oh my god — it’s going to be alright. A slim palm tree and bluest skies are outside my window. We’ve rented a house with two bedrooms and a garden, where a lemon tree grows. Every day, we pick a divinely fragrant lemon for our water. Hydration is important, after all.

Just a three- or four-minute walk (okay, maybe five if you’re yawning) from our place is a yacht marina and promenade lined with restaurants and cafés. But it’s our first morning and our kitchen is empty, so we hop into our Fiat 500L to scout the local supermarket. First stop: a café Don Peppinu for our first coffee and cannoli — the quintessential Sicilian pastry with a crisp tube shell and creamy ricotta filling — enjoyed in our car with a view of the sea. Sicilian breakfast bliss.

After the store, here’s another point for Sicily: grocery prices are a dream — even for what’s considered gourmet here (Latvia), like burrata, parmesan, prosciutto, etc. And don’t even get me started on the endless variety of sauces, little spreads, pastes, cheeses — a gourmet tourist’s paradise.

Whenever we have free time from work, of course we hop into the car and explore nearby towns. The first on our route: Donnalucata (just 15 min drive), where we return again and again — all because of a divine family restaurant run by Roberta and Antonio: Il Consiglio di Sicilia. (Update: the restaurant is now closed, and Roberta (Roberta Corradin) has returned to writing. Since our first visit, she’s published two new books — “Cannoli siciliani: Mare, amore e altre cose buone” and Ma I libri lo sanno, which includes a character named Agnes! :)).

We had originally aimed for a different café, but with winter (albeit 17–22°C) and pandemic closures, many places listed on Google Maps were shut. Driving the narrow streets back to Marina di Ragusa, we noticed a lovely little place open. It looked charming enough to go in and check it out.

Important note when traveling in southern countries — siesta hours! Most private shops, cafés, and even restaurants are closed for a few hours. So when we got there, they weren't serving food anymore. But we did get the most elegant coffee, decadent desserts, and dark chocolate bits on the side — a signal that we would be back. Later, this visit would inspire a story of its own. This restaurant is also famous for being in the Top 10 Cannoli in all of Sicily — mentioned even in the Wall Street Journal. 

One of the major goals for this Sicily stay: climbing Mount Etna. Plan: when our mutual friend Lāsma arrives, she’ll take a bus from Palermo to Catania (super easy and quick), we’ll meet her there, have dinner with my friends in Catania, and go to Etna the next morning. And so it happens.

While waiting for Lāsma, we land in a seafood restaurant — FISHIARIA — where, upon the waiter’s suggestion, we order sarde a beccafico. We split one portion, and immediately regret not ordering more. (Later, I return alone, order one just for myself, and my friend is still mad — that’s how incredible those sardines were.) Highly recommend if you’re in Catania — it’s in the market area.

Next morning, a little sleepy, we get going. Even though we’re at Etna’s base, it’s still a 2-hour drive to the top. Thank goodness we decided to stay overnight nearby. By sunrise, Etna is glowing in full splendor — the view is absolutely stunning. On the way up, the landscape transforms — green gives way to browns, then to black and graphite lava stone piles.

A Few Fun Facts about Etna:

• It’s the highest active volcano in Europe (~3,329 m a.s.l.)

• One of the most active volcanoes in the world (last eruption: July 7, 2024!) (written in 2024)

• A natural scientific lab — beloved by researchers

• Its soil is incredibly fertile — you can find different fruits year-round

• Best month to visit? May — Etna bursts into bloom with gorgeous flowers

Etna even plays a symbolic role in Sicilian cuisine. Arabs began using snow from Etna for granita (a sorbet-like dessert), and local rice balls — arancini — mimic the volcano’s shape. The black squid ink pasta with cheese looks just like Etna’s snowy summit. Not to mention all the volcano-shaped cakes and desserts. In 2013, Etna was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List.

When we finally reach the parking lot and funicular to the summit, weather begins to shift — clouds roll in and strong winds blow. So strong, in fact, that the funicular is closed. If we want to climb, we’ll have to walk — against the wind. But since we came all this way — we go. I sling my photo bag over my shoulder and thank myself for buying a proper coat in town. I didn’t pack any real winter gear from Riga — but Etna is cold, and covered in snow.

The climb warms me up but drains me fast — I’m only a month post-COVID and my strength is limited. My friends carry the photo bag. Lāsma powers ahead to the summit, but Ilze and I aim for the  CRATERES SILVESTRI  and Monti Calcarazzi. The wind is so fierce that even Lāsma, usually unstoppable, reconsiders and joins us.

At the highest crater (2058 m), I wisely choose to sit and rest instead of risking being blown off the edge. I take photos of Ilze bravely walking the crater rim.

I promise myself: I will come back. In May, when Etna blooms.

As we head to the lower crater (~2000 m), I crawl at a tortoise pace, camera in hand, bracing against the wind. At one point, I cling to a rock — yes, that rock from the photo — for 10 minutes because I genuinely feel like the wind might blow me off. Eventually, I inch back to the trail, practically hugging the ground.

By now, clouds have swallowed the peak, and it’s time to descend. Down in the valley — citrus fruit thrives, but up here in December — there’s snow and a proper chill. We stop for food in Aci Castello, at Trattoria Porto Nuovo.

A week later, I’m back in Catania solo — by bus (so easy, cheap, and calming). Etna has just had another mini eruption. Its snowy cap now wears a dusty gray coat of volcanic ash. My friends are drawing patterns in the “gray snow” in their backyard. 

Although we landed in Palermo, we didn’t linger in the city. However, we return here later — when taking Lāsma to the airport — and to attend La Bohème at the Palermo Opera.

We’re staying just barely a kilometer away from the opera house, but through our apartment host, we arrange a taxi — because outside it’s pouring rain, just like when we arrived (there’s something off about me, Palermo and rain...).

The opera house is beautiful and grand, the performance completely sold out. Before the show, we sip prosecco in the opera café, and I receive several compliments from Sicilian women on my dress — a creation by Latvian designer Una Bērziņa. A delightful evening, immersed in Puccini’s music.

I had been to Palermo many years ago, and I don’t remember being particularly impressed even then — and this time is no different. There’s just no real connection between me and this place. Since we arrived in the city during siesta hours, it was hard to find a place to eat. We wandered around the area near our apartment until we stumbled into a totally unremarkable kebab place that surprised us with fresh and tasty food. Ilze and Lāsma went for seafood, while I was blown away by the coffee the owner made — absolutely incredible! Outstanding customer service too — the girls wanted prosecco, and instead of telling us they didn’t have any, the owner simply went to the shop and came back shortly with a cold, excellent bottle of the stuff.

We stayed just one night here. Lāsma left the apartment early to head to the airport, and a bit later we hopped into the car and started our journey home. Our stop for the night was Agrigento — a city that is, quite frankly, not very visually appealing, but it hides an incredibly beautiful temple complex, the so-called Valley of the Temples. We actually ended up there thanks to an interesting coincidence (although I’m one of those who believes there are no real coincidences).

As I mentioned before, during one of our early car trips exploring village restaurants in the area, we discovered Il Consiglio di Sicilia, where the owner Roberta (writer and translator Roberta Corradin) gave us a guide to Sicily’s best restaurants. While browsing through it at home, I came across an ad for a beautiful villa with a view of the same temples we had seen during our long drive from the airport to our village.

We checked it out online and after a brief moment of consideration, we had already booked a room at HOTEL VILLA ATHENA  with a terrace and a view of the temple. If you’re going to travel, might as well do it in style and with a view.  

The hotel also has its own farm, where they produce olive oil — the bottle was so beautiful (and, as I later found out, the oil was so delicious) that I ended up buying some to bring back to Latvia when we checked out. I’m now even considering how to order more from there.

In ancient Greek times, the city was known as Akragas (Greek: Acragas, Latin: Agrigentum, Arabic: Gergent, Sicilian dialect: Girgenti), and it was one of the richest and most flourishing cities of Magna Graecia during the golden age of ancient Greece. Today, however, it is one of the poorest cities not only in Italy but also in Sicily, plagued by unemployment, organized crime, drugs, and more.

The main tourist attraction is the temples located in the valley beneath the hill — the Valley of the Temples (Valle dei Templi), which includes Doric temples built in the 6th and 5th centuries BCE. These are among the largest and best-preserved Greek structures outside of Greece. Since 1997, they’ve been listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Modern Agrigento, established by the Arabs in the 9th century, is located on a small hill and fully reflects traditional Arab city planning — it’s made up of a maze of winding streets, interspersed with beautiful courtyards and parks, and countless churches. The list of things to see here is long. Depending on how long you plan to stay, I’d recommend looking things up online beforehand and prioritizing accordingly.

We only managed to see the ruins of two temples, as they were directly connected to the hotel’s garden, which meant we didn’t have to worry about finding parking (we’d already seen during earlier drives that one of the temple entrances had a very small parking area). We could also buy our entry tickets directly at the hotel reception, and head out for an archaeological walk right after breakfast. The view was breathtaking, though that word hardly does justice to what you actually see.

The Temple of Concordia (Tempio della Concordia), built between 440 and 430 BCE, is considered one of the best-preserved Doric temples in the ancient Greek world. It’s also regarded as one of the most beautiful in terms of proportions and harmony. On the northern side of the temple is a Paleo-Christian Byzantine necropolis with open-type tombs from the 3rd to 6th centuries CE. Since the temple is located on a small hill, it offers a spectacular view of the valley and of Villa Athena.

The distance between the two temples is just around 800 meters, but along the way there’s a lovely little café surrounded by cacti and flowers where you can sit, relax, and enjoy a drink or some local snacks in peace and quiet.

The Temple of Juno (or Hera) (Tempio di Giunone o Hera Lacinia), built around 450 BCE, stands at the highest point of the valley, at the far end of the Collina dei Templi. It was dedicated to the goddess of fertility. From the outside it looks very similar to the Temple of Concordia, just slightly smaller. It was destroyed and burned by the Carthaginians in 406 BCE, and later rebuilt by the Romans. Today, 30 out of its original 34 columns remain, 16 of which still have their capitals. On the eastern side of the temple are the remains of the sacrificial altar, which once consisted of 10 steps.

On our way home, we made a stop in Gela to stretch our legs and enjoy an Aperol in a seaside café, and we were lucky enough to witness one of the most beautiful Sicilian sunsets (the first one, by the way, was back in Agrigento on the day we arrived). And just like that, another rich and adventure-filled week had come to an end.

A new day, a new trip. Today, we're heading higher into the mountains, toward Noto. The winding mountain roads make it difficult to visit several towns in one day (especially since they’re all in different directions), but we're not aiming to see as many sights as possible. Our plan is to take it slow and soak up the place and the moment.

Noto (sic.: Nuotu, latin.: Neetum un Netum) is a Baroque town about 32 km from Siracusa, 93 km from Catania, nestled at the foot of the Iblean Mountains. The whole valley is named after it — the Val di Noto. Since 2002, Noto and seven other towns in the valley have been included in the UNESCO World Heritage list as "Late Baroque Towns of the Val di Noto": Caltagirone, Militello in Val di Catania, Catania, Modica, Palazzolo Acreide, Ragusa, and Scicli. All these small mountain towns have a unique charm, architecture, atmosphere, and people.

On the way home, we once again drive past orange groves and, yes, we stop to pick up fallen oranges. Say what you will, but their taste and smell are unforgettable. Along the roadside (closer to Catania), you can buy oranges — I got a huge bag for 2 EUR. Several kilograms of juicy delight...

If you're planning a visit, it's good to know that in May or June, the city celebrates the "La Scala Infiorata" festival — the staircase is covered in flowers. On July 24–25, during the Feast of St. James, the city’s patron saint, it’s lit with lanterns for the "Luminaria" festival. And of course, during Christmas, when the staircase is also decorated with flowers, many ceramic shops turn into nativity scene displays.

On our visit, it's drizzling slightly and we’re a bit too early for the Christmas decorations, but some parts of the town are already dressed up for the holidays. Here, I spot a fascinating ceramic Moor’s head, decorated with a little Christmas tree, and I instantly know — I want one for my home.

The short version of the legend: In the city of Palermo, in the Arab district of the Kasbah, lived a beautiful girl with long black hair and blue eyes that reflected the Mediterranean Sea. Like any respectable Sicilian girl, she wasn’t allowed to walk the streets alone, so she spent her time gardening on her balcony — the only form of freedom and socializing available.

One day, a young Moorish merchant passing by saw her and fell in love at first sight. Without hesitation, he declared his love. The girl, impressed by his wealth and words, returned his affection, and they began a passionate relationship. But one day she discovered a terrible truth — the Moor was returning to his homeland, where a wife and children awaited him. Her heart shattered. As any self-respecting Sicilian woman would, she sought revenge. After their last night together, she slit his throat while he slept and cut off his head. That’s why almost every souvenir or ceramic shop sells these heads — painted or unpainted.

Thanks to my Sicilian friends, Iveta and I went to a ceramics workshop run by people she knew. We arranged to have a custom black Moor’s head — just like the one I’d seen in Caltagirone — made before I left. So, along with my 3 suitcases, a photo bag, and a backpack, I had a nearly 50 cm tall ceramic head traveling with me as carry-on.

All of our trips were done in our trusty little Fiat. The roads in Sicily are mostly in great condition (with a few exceptions), full of climbs, drops, and hairpin turns. During Lāsma’s visit, the most nerve-wracking roads were dubbed "Lāsma’s Verticals." There were many.

Navigation apps (Waze, Google Maps, HERE Maps) stubbornly took us through tiny town centers for the first two or three weeks. Eventually, Waze seemed to catch on that we preferred bypasses, especially after I started deliberately taking detours. Thanks to all the Italian saints — or perhaps our guardian angel — every trip ended without a scratch on the car, just a few sore necks. There was also a thing called "Lāsma’s Carousel," but that’s a memory for another time.….

f you have the time, definitely visit Taormina. I almost feel embarrassed admitting we didn’t make it there this time (it’s 200 km away, and my friend didn’t have as flexible a schedule), but it should absolutely be on your list. If you can, stay overnight. The town is perched 204 meters above sea level on the slopes of Mount Tauro and has been a Dolce Vita symbol since the late 19th century, when celebrities, writers, artists, and politicians began flocking here. On clear days, you can see all the way from Calabria to Siracusa, with Mount Etna in the background. For a quieter stay, consider Castelmola — even higher in the mountains above Taormina.

Those oranges... I just added a picture, and my mouth instantly waters from the memories. I won’t go into detail about how we got our oranges, but in Catania they cost less than 0.40 EUR/kg. And the taste! Honestly, you’d almost kill for them. The orange season in Sicily is autumn and winter. Even African oranges, used during the off-season, make juices that taste a million times better than anything back in Latvia.

The flavor adventure. I’d probably need a whole separate article to list everything worth trying in Sicily. I’m a very conservative eater, yet... Arancini — a Sicilian classic — breaded, deep-fried rice balls with different fillings, originating from Arab times; cannoli; cassata; deep-fried small fish (frittura di Paranza) — anchovies, sardines, calamari; battered seasonal vegetables; roasted chestnuts (caldarroste — my weakness); grilled artichokes (carciofi arrostiti); gelato, and of course, the legendary sarde a beccafico. Sicily is a feast for all senses.

On the second trip, I also fell in love with pane cunzato — bread with tomatoes (fresh or sun-dried), anchovies, oregano, pecorino, olive oil. So simple, yet so flavorful.

A must for all sweet-toothed travelers: Modica — another Val di Noto town on the UNESCO list. Modica is split into two parts: Modica Alta (the older part, high in the Iblean Mountains) and Modica Bassa (in the valley, where two rivers once flowed). Modica’s chocolate-making process is unique, derived from the ancient Aztec and Mayan methods. The "cold method" preserves all flavors, unlike traditional chocolate. The result: bars made only from cocoa, sugar, and natural spices.

December is when the Chocolate Festival is held here. If you have the energy, also visit the city's major churches (Modica is known as the "city of 100 churches"), the Count's Palace, and , Ponte Guerrieri — one of the tallest bridges in Europe. On Christmas Day, children were treated to pannetone — Santa Claus rode through town on a cart, handing out gifts.

If you prefer larger cities, definitely check out Catania and Siracusa. Both have their own charm. Sadly, we didn’t make it to Siracusa (yes, even 1.5 months wasn’t enough). It was one of the most important cities of ancient Greece. Some of the best-preserved Greek ruins are here: parts of the Temple of Apollo, the Greek theater, Archimedes’ tomb, and more. The newer part — the island of Ortigia — is lovely, with a cathedral built atop an ancient Greek temple, narrow alleys, a seaside promenade, and the spring of the nymph Arethusa.

And finally, Marina di Ragusa. Our home for one and a half months. If I were to compare — it’s like our Majori in Latvia, but with a luxury yacht port. A promenade, a town square, a church. A place we’ll definitely return to — if only to see Francesco again (the owner of Ristorante - Pizzeria Imperial), who treated us like family. We even got birthday cake during my daughter’s celebration. To visit La Dolceria (even I, who don’t eat sweets, couldn’t resist!), to shop at Mediterraneo Moda (yes, I bought half the store), or drop by the girls at the Sunshine beauty salon. By the way, the pancake cake from Dolceria was part of our Latvian Christmas.

And a funny moment: I’m attaching a map of Sicily with our village marked. The island’s not huge, yet... One day, Ilze and I were on our usual coffee walk when I hear a voice — "Agnese, coffee?" I think I’m imagining it. The voice calls again. I turn around — a woman is waving from a terrace and smiling. I walk closer, and... I’m speechless. It’s Daila! This awesome couple had picked the same village and rented from the same landlord! And they brought their cat with them! So yes, the world really is small — Latvians are everywhere :) In the end, there were around 12 of us Latvians there for Christmas and New Year’s.

Yes, I sometimes miss THAT life. A lot, actually. When you’re there, you slip into this relaxed (Italian) rhythm. You work on your projects (websites can be built under a lemon tree, after all), you enjoy life. There’s no constant pressure like back in Latvia — though I might be slightly addicted to that too. But my heart, and two cats, eventually brought me back home.

Arrivederci, Sicilia!

P.S. I returned to my “old paths” in September 2023 (and 2024 too), joining Roberta on the promo tour for her first book. We visited Francesco, sipped espresso at La Dolceria, and enjoyed the beach. Those three weeks of travel were filled with adventure – and in the end, I even became one of the characters in her next book (which, back then, was just an idea – but has since been published). Maybe it’s time for a new journey? But that September trip deserves a story of its own…

P.P.S. Yes, I still miss life in Sicily – and yes, there is a goal and a plan.

LOL.. P.PP..S. It's 2025. In September, I’m moving to Italy — this time, for good

This article was originally published in I'mperfekt magazine, Issue No. 26, Winter 2024.