It’s already dark when we land in Sicily. And apparently in a different world: Why are all the people here wearing nightgowns?
Most of the men, women and children my girlfriend and I meet on the way to our apartment in Catania wear white dresses and carry huge yellow candles. We’re too busy googling our way through the dark streets to find out why. But when we step outside the next morning, the Catanese are still in their pajamas!
Over a cappuccino with granita (a frozen Sicilian ice cream specialty) in the Piazza del Duomo, we learn that we’ve strayed into the festivities honoring Saint Agatha, the city’s patron saint. They are considered one of the most beautiful in the world!
The story behind it is curious: when the relics of the martyr were brought back to Catania by ship from Constantinople in 1126, it was already night. Awakened from sleep, people rushed out into the street to receive the saint, just as they were, in their nightwear. Exactly one year later, according to legend, the Etna volcano erupted in front of the gates of Catania. The lava flow threatened to destroy the city when a veil rose from the tomb of Saint Agatha and the glowing flow stopped…
The “Festa di Sant’Agata” lasts three days today with processions, fireworks and queuing in front of the cathedral where the remains of the saint lie. Traditionally, her “breasts” are eaten during these days: the cassatelle di Sant’Agata are a dessert intended to commemorate the breasts that were cut off because, as a consecrated virgin, she refused to marry the governor.
Catania ticked off in one day
Apart from the festival, which she dresses up for, the port city of Catania doesn’t have much to offer in winter (when you can’t go swimming). In less than one day we saw the highlights: the cathedral and the lava elephant fountain in the Piazza del Duomo, the remains of the Roman theater, the hustle and bustle (of people and living sea creatures) at the fish market, the shopping street Via Etnea and the great view from the church Chiesa della Badia di Sant’Agata (for 5 euros).
The late baroque “Black Daughter of Etna” with its houses made of lava rock is part of the UNESCO World Heritage. In fact, not much has changed since Catania was rebuilt after the devastating earthquake of 1693: tall, grey-black houses with crumbling facades and all sorts of greenery on the mini-balconies, the narrowest, bumpy sidewalks on which cars are also parked, mountains of rubbish after market days – typically southern Italian?
The most beautiful city on the island
The city of Taormina can also be different!
About an hour from Catania, the most beautiful spot on the island is perched on a cliff overlooking the Ionian Sea. We booked a day trip with a minibus.
After a short stop at Isola Bella, a beautiful mini island with a nature reserve, we find ourselves in the midst of a dreamlike setting. Colourful, lovingly renovated houses line the pedestrian zone of Via Roma.
We decide on a small Ristorante on the steps of a staircase. At 20 degrees in winter we sit outside with Campari Spritz, melon with ham and caponata, a sweet and sour Sicilian stew with aubergines, tomatoes and raisins. Sicily is also a dream for sea lovers: swordfish, monkfish, mussels and the famous Gambero Rosso, the favorite gambas of star chefs, which can be eaten raw – all at reasonable prices.
We forget the time while feasting. Stupida – how stupid: The highlight of Taormina, the ancient Greek theater in front of a sea backdrop, closes at 4 p.m. in winter and not, as read on the internet, at 6 p.m.
Etna smokes a pipe
It’s good that we visited THE attraction of the island beforehand: Mount Etna. Only 30 minutes from Catania is the largest active volcano in Europe (3360 meters). “The first volcanic cone was formed 600,000 years ago,” the audio guide blares in bad German from the minibus loudspeaker. The lava chunks, which he has even thrown as far as Catania, are as big as cars. “The energy emitted is more powerful than that of an atomic bomb.”
Wow, this realization hits home. However, there is of course no sign of the heat at 2500 meters, which we partly covered with the cable car.
Up here, the wind whistles so strongly through my fur-lined winter pants and around my ears that I get a headache after just 5 minutes without a hood. However, the view makes up for everything: the sun is shining above the cloud cover, which looks like a bed of cotton wool. We jump into the air for some spectacular photos and are exhilarated when we come back down an hour later in the spring warmth.
On the way to the sea, however, the road is suddenly gone: dense fog all around. “That’s not normal,” says our driver. Etna smokes a pipe.
Three days later we know why: “Etna erupted in Sicily”, I read back home in the news ticker.
The lava fountains shot up 8000 meters. And we missed the impressive natural spectacle! If only we had hopped on it a little longer…