No fish! Pass the cannoli! 5 Travel tips for exploring Sicily

Sigmund Freud said Sicily was

"the loveliest region of Italy: a stunning orgy of colors, scents, and lights . . . a great delight"

Arrivederci Italia!

Two weeks pass in a chaotic rush of sights, sounds, scents, and color, but at last we say goodbye to Limoncello spritzes, eggplant parmigiana, and panelle, a deep-fried chickpea flour fritter.

As for you, sword fish, unidentified fish fillets, and sardines, I never knew you. I was warned that Sicily and southern Italy are known for the abundance of fresh seafood on their menus. I wrote no fish on the diet preference sent to me by our tour.

Good morning Palermo

City living in the heart of Palermo.

This is a view through an archway into the cloister's courtyard.

A Palermo bar lit up for the night.

Don’t get me wrong. I like the occasional, salmon, cod, halibut, even prawns, but I’m a sad disappointment to my husband. He thrives on seafood—For him, it's the old story of if it comes from the sea, it's for me. He would have wallowed in the variety of fish served during our two-week tour. Me? This is a holiday. I’m going to eat what I love. All right, maybe I would prefer a little less eggplant parmigiana and flava bean puree, but when in Sicily . . .

There's no end to the variety of seafood found in Palermo.

Interesting way to display whole fish in the market

A whole octopus in Palermo fish market

It turned out, I wasn’t the only no fish-sayer. By day eight or nine, half the group jumped the line to the no fish side. There was even talk of designing a t-shirt:

               No fish!

               Pass the cannoli!

So what are my 5 travel tips from my two-week tour of Sicily and Southern Italy?

1.       Never eat a fresh croissant when wearing black pants.

2.       When the server, driver, desk clerk looks you in the eyes and says, Si, prego. It doesn’t mean they understood what you said. Maybe it's time to turn on your Google translator.

Me, whispering: We had a huge cockroach in our room last night.

Desk clerk: Si, prego.

Me: Sorry? (I’m Canadian, I even apologize for uninvited roaches) Did you understood? There was a cockroach in our room. A big one. (Of course, it gets bigger with every telling)

Desk clerk: Oh, si. Good for you. (He turns to answer the phone)

Me: Okay. I don't think he's saying, tough luck about the giant cockroach that sent you leaping into the hallway screeching like a four-year-old. I try again, this time with hand gestures mimicking the ginormous threatening bug.

Desk clerk: (Eyes widening) So sorry. What room? I will write it.

He writes on a notepad in Italian and nods conspiratorially at me. I think his note said, This crazy lady is a pain in the deretano, but instead, I'm going to believe it read, Quick, send someone to check for more.

3.       Ask for a second key when you check into your room.

Your key slots into the device by the door to turn on the electricity. When you leave your room and take the key, it's lights out. That's fine for a solo traveler, but if you're with someone else and want to pop out for a few minutes, taking the key leaves them in the dark till you get back. We found hotel staff rarely offered a second key, so we had to ask. Sometimes they said no.

4.        Be merciless when culling the pile of clothes you plan to take. Clothes magically multiply , and souvenirs—like wine, purses, dishes—fill every available gap in your luggage. Your suitcase warps from thirty-two pounds to well, that zipper's blown in the space of a few days. One of the gifts from our tour was a luggage strap. Best thing ever. I further solved my packing problems by buying an over-sized beach bag in Taormina. It acted as my personal item and allowed me to repack my suitcase and close the zipper.

5.       Smile lots. It's free, and it’s a universal language that everyone understands.

Ciao,

Carol