Lifting Sicily’s layers on the Ionian coast

Standing near the vertigo-inducing edge of the square in Castelmola, set atop a rocky isolated outcrop, looking down the sheer hillside at the cliff-clinging resort town of Taormina hundreds of feet below, it seemed as though the depth perception that comes with having two eyes would be really handy here. The variety of landscapes, diversions and history is astonishing and easily rivals most attractions of mainland Italy (which most Sicilians will tell you is a completely different country, anyway). There are medieval churches, rustic fishing villages, cafes where Greta Garbo and Tennessee Williams lounged, some of the most extensive Greek ruins outside of Greece, and the largest active volcano in Europe — as well as at least one surly Cyclops who, according to a guy named Homer, lived a short (albeit winding) drive from here. The coast’s strategic location, and the rocky landscape dominated by a volcano with a mean disposition, helped direct history toward the sea — forts and castles for defense, ports for trade and fishing. The roads, the rooms, the beds, the parking, the alleys, the shops — all proportionately smaller, as if early city designers made everything seven-eighths of normal size so it would all fit on a steep hillside intended for a village, not a city. This was never more apparent than during the drive into town, through alleys so narrow even the ubiquitous buzzing scooters couldn’t inch past our relatively compact Fiat Panda. If we passed our stop, even by 50 yards, we would have to drive 9 miles back down to sea level, through a tunnel under the city, then back up the cliffs on the other side. In its defense, Taormina has a sizable parking structure just at the edge of town, affixed to the hillside like an Ikea shelving unit for people who know better than to drive here. The medieval village is webbed by narrow alleys and backstreets, few of which are straight for more than a block or so, and most are sprinkled with pocket-size boutiques, gelato shops and cafes that manage to take a nominally wider portion of alley and turn it into a piazza. Climbing up through the maze, my wife, Ann, and I eventually ran into Corso Umberto, the pedestrian-only (mostly) main drag lined without pause by gelato shops, “authentic” restaurants, designer boutiques and jewelry shops, and more cafes. The river of people around us on Corso Umberto emptied out into Piazza IX Aprile, with its Rococo San Giuseppe church, checkerboard plaza and the closest thing to a promenade in Taormina, where young couples gathered to welcome the evening. Through most of the Ionian coast, the rust-colored, greenish-tinged hump that is Etna is nearly always peeking over your shoulder, at times taking up the entire western horizon. Close to Refugio, we stopped to climb up the side of the Silvestri Crater, where the color of the crunchy lava gravel reflected the metals inside. Higher on the mountainside, the road switchbacks through what had once been enormous flows of lava pouring from the secondary craters around the mountain: frozen rock, like enormous black-gray whips of licorice marzipan from the devil’s candy counter. Back on the Road A18, we resumed the trek south, occasionally pulling off to explore the rural coastal villages, the stationary satellites of Sicilian life that often are closer to cultural reality than are the cities. Sauteed shrimp and white wine poured from a pitcher shaped like a chicken taste even better at a cafe close to the waves. At the water’s edge was a twisted, snarling lip of lava rock, likely from an eruption centuries ago but looking fresh, as if it had arrived last spring. The lava rock stands here and at other spots along the coast as a natural seawall against the Ionian tide — the only thing that was able to halt Etna’s molten flow — in a seemingly eternal stalemate. The oddly shaped basalt islets and spires sticking out of the harbor in the town of Aci Trezza had no logical business being there, so the Greeks figured it must have been the work of Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon. In a fit of rage over the escape of Odysseus, the cyclops living on Mount Etna heaved the massive chunks toward the boat full of fleeing heroes from Homer’s “The Odyssey.” While the boats bobbed gently in the harbor, I gazed at the Scogli dei Ciclopi (Rocks of the Cyclops) from one in a row of beach-side cafes, drained an espresso and decided the story sounded as plausible as any I could come up with. After exploring the holiday-focused towns of Acireale, Aci Trezza and Aci Castella, it was a short drive before we stopped overnight in Catania, Sicily’s second-largest city (behind Palermo), just long enough to explore the historic core. The town was worth the stop, however, if only to stroll the Piazza del Duomo on a mild Saturday night, admiring the cathedral, the government buildings and the bizarre Fontana dell’Elefante, a basalt elephant statue topped by an obelisk that, according to legend, is keeping Etna calm. The Greek theater in Syracuse wasn’t constructed into the hillside in the third century B.C. It was carved in place out of the existing stone hill by guys who didn’t have pneumatic jackhammers, electric power tools or laser-assisted levels. The Greek theater and the rest of the Parco Archeologico della Neapolis are just one slice of unearthed history in the region that includes the Bronze Age necropolis with 5,000 prehistoric tombs, castles and forts fortified by Archimedes, Roman temples, and a network of catacombs used for early Christian burials. There were a few cafes along the way and, eventually, we landed at Le Vin de l’Assassin, a compact, stylish restaurant that offers French style and Sicilian ingredients (and a wine list including both). Reserve a rental car in advance; there are several U.S companies represented in the airport, including Avis, Budget, Hertz and Enterprise. Because there’s a tourist season, hotel rates can vary — a $400-per-night room in October is only $100 per night in November. There’s no shortage of operators offering walking tours and bus trips in each of the major cities to archaeological sites, Mount Etna and beaches, as well as themed tours for food, architecture, history, churches and wine.