Two Jewels of Sicily: Mount Etna and Taormina

In May 2024, daughter Jill and I cruised the Mediterranean, with port stops in Spain, France, Italy, and Malta, and spent two days sightseeing in Barcelona. Our holiday was memorable from start to finish!

Click HERE to read a short introduction to our Mediterranean Holiday.
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This story, part of a series, is about our day in Sicily, where we visited Mount Etna and Taormina. 

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Jill and me standing in Lower Silvestri Crater

Messina, Sicily (May 14, 2024) Messina was our fourth port in as many days, and while Jill and I had visited Sicily before—Jill in 2012 and me in 2016—we were excited to be here again.  
 
We booked a full-day excursion, simply named ‘Mount Etna and Taormina,’ through MSC Cruises: 

The Italian island of Sicily is presided over by Mount Etna, Italy’s tallest (south of the Alps) and most active volcano. You will visit this natural phenomenon…where you will walk to the inactive Lower Silvestri Crater (after) passing through the town of Zafferana Etnea. Leaving Mount Etna behind, you will then (travel to) the lovely little town of Taormina…to have lunch (and) a guided walk.

This was another large group tour—Jill, me, and 30-40 fellow passengers from World Europa—with a multi-lingual guide for our multi-lingual group.

Spoiler Alert: We had a great time from start to finish!

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Messina

Italy is home to more than 400 islands in the Mediterranean Sea and inland rivers and lakes. The largest and most populace island is Sicily (4.8 million inhabitants), located near Italy’s ‘toe.’ If you picture Sicily as an inverted pyramid, Messina (where we were docked) was the city nearest the top right-hand corner—less than four miles across the Strait of Messina from Villa San Giovanni on the mainland. 

At 9AM, Jill and I boarded a motorcoach bound for Mt. Etna. We were blessed with beautiful weather—mid-60s, mostly sunny, and a slight breeze. As this photo revealed—Jill took a photo of me taking a photo of Lower Silvestri Crater—it was shorts and a thin nylon jacket for me.

The first leg of our adventure, from Messina to the Silvestri Craters, took about 90 minutes, as we drove south along the eastern coast of Sicily and then, with a dogleg right, inland on a roadway that wound its way up Mount Etna to the craters. 

​The first time I visited Sicily was with Debra, my wife. Our excursion that day was the ‘Godfather Tour,’ named for the movie because it included stops where The Godfather was filmed. One stop was in Castillo de Castelmola, a picturesque village on a hilltop above Taormina. There, Debra and I had lunch at Gallo Cedrone, owned by Ricardo and his mom, Maria. They were consummate hosts, and the food they dished up—we asked them to surprise us—was delicious!

I share this story with you because we had this view of Mount Etna—it was as close to the mountain as we got that day—from the patio of their restaurant. And while Mount Etna looked far off in the distance, it was just a mile away as the crow flies.

Now, from past to present...

As promised, our bus passed through the village of Zafferana Etnea—1,883 feet above sea level—as we ascended Mount Etna. As an aside, this village was in the path of a lava flow—it was successfully diverted—when Mount Etna erupted in 1992.

The only photo I took in Zafferana Etnea—with over 700 beekeepers, this town of 10,000 produced 15% of the country’s honey—was of a road sign in the middle of the village. The sign pointed to ‘Etna sud’ in one direction and ‘Etna nord’ in the opposite direction—that is, to the south and north side of Mount Etna. We headed south, and drove past several communes—Trecastagni, Pedara, and Nicolosi—as we climbed still higher.
  
This was my first glimpse of the upper reaches of Mount Etna, which was blanketed by snow. The summit—more than 11,000 feet above sea level—was covered by clouds. 

From this point, it took about 15 minutes to reach our destination—Craters Silvestri of Mount Etna, named for the 19th century volcanologist who spent much of his life studying the volcanic eruptions on Mount Etna.  

The lower crater, which was the one we explored this day, was nearly 6,300 feet above sea level—about the same elevation as the community where Debra and I live. The clear, crisp air (it was appreciably cooler at this higher elevation) smelled fresh.

The two craters—one is called ‘Lower’ while the other is called ‘Upper’—were formed by an eruption in 1892 that lasted 173 days. Both craters are ‘pyroclastic cones,’ also known as cinder cones. "Cinder cones are the most common type of volcanic cones,” wrote National Geographic, “formed after violent eruptions blow lava fragments into the air, which then solidify and fall as cinders around the volcanic vent.”

If someone—you, for instance—were to ask me, “What did you want to be when you were a kid,” I would answer, “An astronaut.” Never happened, of course, and so I never made it to the moon. Had I, though, I might have found a barren landscape not dissimilar to the area that surrounded the pyroclastic cones that formed around Lower Silvestri Crater—at least it was so in my mind’s eye. 

And, as I later learned, my thought wasn’t far-fetched, as the European Space Agency, in 2022, tested a rover around the “moon-like Mount Etna…because of its similarities—a really harsh environment—to the lunar surface.”

So, I mused, maybe I fulfilled my childhood dream, after all. (That’s my story…and I’m sticking to it!)

We spent 30 minutes on a guided tour around the lower crater, and then had free time to wander on our own.  

Check out this view of the valley below Mount Etna…

I spied a spiral path—a labyrinth—made of rocks in the bottom of the crater...

 ...so I climbed down for a closer look. Clearly, this labyrinth was man-made. But why and by whom, I wondered. 

I asked our guide when I was topside again, but he hadn’t a clue…and I found nothing on this in my search on the internet. I read, though, that a labyrinth “symbolized movement, growth, and change…a continually shifting perspective that was inspiring and life-renewing.”  And so, I imagined the labyrinth, whether created by one or many people, was purposeful—perhaps to connect the destructive movement and change that took place more than 130 years ago with the present.

Pretty neat, I thought.

As we reboarded the bus, I heard someone say, “That was a unique experience.” It was a unique experience, and one that gave me bragging rights: I stood atop the most active volcano in all of Europe…and lived to share my story!

Now, on to Taormina.

We retraced the route we took to reach the craters—down the mountain to the coast, then north to the ‘Pearl of the Ionian Sea,” a popular nickname for scenic Taormina.

As in Sorrento, Jill and I had a choice to make—follow our guide on a one-hour walking tour followed by one hour of free time or strike out on our own.

Right you are—we went our own way. 

How did we spend our two hours? We ate. We saw the sights. We learned a bit of history. We shopped. We snacked. And we did it all at a leisurely pace, starting with a sit-down lunch at a restaurant near Piazza Duomo—Cathedral Square.

I’d love to tell you our lunch was a gastronomic delight, but it wasn’t—the caprese salad and lasagna were uninspired and bland.  

“Win some, lose some,” I said to Jill as we finished our meals.  

“Time to explore,” she replied with a smile.

Before I lead you on our way, though, I’d like to share an earlier moment with you.

In ancient times, Taormina was protected by a series of fortified stone walls. Little of the walls remain, but there are vestiges here and there, including two gates—Porta Messina and Porta Catania—one at either end of Corso Umberto, the main thoroughfare in Taormina. Jill and I walked through this gate—I believe it was Porta Catania…although it could have been Porta Messina…when we first entered Taormina.

Ok—let’s take a walk. 

I spotted a church across the square from the restaurant.

​“I’ll only be a minute,” I said to Jill as I headed that way. 

​This was the 13th century Duomo di Taormina—the Cathedral of Taormina—with a rather simple façade and single adornment, a small rose window high above the front entrance. The cathedral was dedicated to St. Nicholas of Bari, a 4th century bishop of Greek descent known as Nicholas the Wonderworker because of the many miracles attributed to him.  
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The interior—described as “typical medieval architecture”—was designed in the shape of a cross. Six pink marble columns—three to a side—supported the decorative arches in the nave. As churches go, this one was less ornate than most I have seen, but it had a rich history that included “a mix of religious and civic power.”

“I thought you said a minute,” Jill commented when I emerged from the church…ten minutes later.

I smiled and shrugged as we restarted our walk down (or was it up?) Corso Umberto. Here are a few of the pics I took along the way. Don’t you just love the architecture? I know I do.

Soon we reached Piazza IX Aprile, the central plaza in Taormina. Why is it called ‘IX Aprile?’ On this date—April 9—in 1860, “the rumor spread that Garibaldi (a statesman and general who helped unify Italy) had landed at Marsala to begin the liberation of Sicily,” which was held by a kingdom of France. Turned out the rumor was false, as Garibaldi wouldn’t show up for another month. Still, a rumor’s a rumor, and the name stuck.

The square was surrounded by many noteworthy buildings, perhaps none more so than the Church of San Giuseppe (St. Joseph), which was built during the late 1600s and early 1700s. I loved the double staircase, made of Syracuse stone, that led to the main entrance, and the great bell tower topped with a spire.  

“I’m going to pay a visit to this church,” I said to Jill. And with a wink, I added, “It’ll likely take me more than a minute.”

“No doubt,” she replied. “Time for me to shop. Find me later somewhere further along this road.”

The main altar was also made of marble, from Taormina. There was a statue of Madonna and Child behind the altar, with angels on either side. The walls throughout the church were adorned with frescoes and intricate stucco work. It was lovely!

There was a clock tower in the plaza, named Torre dell’Orologio—a medieval tower built in the 12th century that once served as a city gate. There was no clock in the clock tower when it was first built. But when the tower was destroyed by the French 1676, a clock was added when the tower was rebuilt in 1679—thus, Torre became Torre dell’Orologio.   

I walked the full length of Corso Umberto to Porta Messina (or was it Porta Catania?), but I did not see Jill—so I headed back in the direction from which I came. It did not take long to find her...in a boutique that sold hand-made Italian purses. Jill bought one, and Debra scored too, as I bought a purse for her. After, we stopped in a bakery for a snack—a pistachio cannoli for me, which was fresh and delicious (and almost made up for our ‘meh’ lunch).

There was time for one more photo—my little girl atop a terrace that overlooked the coast—before we rejoined our tour group for the hour-long drive to the cruise port in Messina.

It was great to once again spend a day in Sicily—this time, to be ON Mount Etna rather than seeing it from afar, as I had in 2016, and to share with Jill a couple of hours sightseeing in the beautiful coastal town of Taormina. I loved our experiences, and better yet, I treasured great memories I will have for a lifetime!

Tomorrow we will be on the island nation of Malta—a first for me. I look forward to sharing our excursion with you.