I was pretty taken with Cefalù. I had not expected it to have retained such charm since its advent to practically every tour firm’s brochure. My one disappointment was quite a major one, that the lovely cathedral, with mosaics older than those at Monreale [though nothing like as many,] was undergoing repair, a place of noise and dust with little mosaic actually showing. Never mind, you can’t win ’em all! Somehow I missed the quickest way to the bus for Castelbuono and I arrived in time to see the back of it as it left. It was right by the train station and, as Castelbuono was the very first stop and a train was almost due, I was not too worried. In fact my only worry was during the short train journey when I realised I had not validated my ticket! Fortunately nobody had told me that the station was nowhere near the town and that the walk was up a very long and pretty steep hill. I only had seconds to worry about this, as the fellow passenger who told me went on to offer a lift. We can have been only a little behind the bus!

My lift was to the tourist office who started to look for somewhere for me to stay that night. I quite fancied the idea of a b&b for a change and the price sounded OK until they phoned back to all but double it as I was on my own. No good. The next attempt was the only hotel in the little town, as far as I know, the Ariston. This was remarkably cheap and I left my luggage at the tourist office to carry on uphill to the castle before dropping down to the Ariston. The view, both of the town below and of the hills of the interior in the other direction confirmed the impression that it would be a good walking centre. However there was no time to weigh that up with only two nights left. I returned to the Ariston and the very cheap price came to seem explicable. The receptionist was playing cards with a couple of friends – they called to mind Manet’s famous painting in the Courtauld Gallery at Somerset House, London. Shortly after he had given me the key I heard them – all – leave the hotel and that was it. There was nobody else in the hotel from then until I left in the morning. I do not remember the name of the place where I ate. I suppose you might call it an Italian fast food joint but it was just what I needed – fast indeed but remarkably friendly. I should go again – just above the arch on the right if you want to find it!

So back in the morning to Cefalù on the bus to catch the train on along the coast. I had by now what I thought was probably a pipedream, that it would be great to take a boat out to one of the Aeolian Islands for a couple of hours if timetables permitted – and they seemed to. This time the mistake was not my fault. The departure board in the station had been changed from the time-table from the tourist office and I had to wait well over an hour for the next train – and pay extra for the privilege because it was called an express. It would hardly be reasonable for an Englishman to complain about the train service anywhere but this was actually as bad as ours at near their worst.

Thus I arrived at Milazzo very uncertain whether it was going to be possible to do anything. I discovered that by taking an aliscafo [hydrofoil] I could get just about an hour on Lípari. I am and I was very aware that an hour on Lípari is absurdly insufficient. On the other hand it was nearly an hour more than nothing and allowed a sight of Vulcano on the way – and the sea was like a mill pond. There was really no contest in my mind; I went and I am glad I did – though I should certainly like to go again for longer and see some of the other islands as well.

After the trip, reported in the next edition, I was rather too tired to walk up to the castle at Milazzo but it looked striking enough towering over the town. I was there at a time when the industrial smoke said to spoil the town so badly was absent and it seemed a good place. I stayed at the Central in the Via  del Sole, an ordinary little place with shared bathrooms, cheaper but otherwise much the same as several others. I ate at a sort of shop/cafe at the far end of town from a wonderful spread of antipasti type dishes – very cheaply indeed.

David was a keen walker, particularly on mountains before he developed serious heart problems in 1995. He has now adapted his holidays to what he is able to do and we are presenting his account of 12 days in Sicily over this and the coming months. Next two episodes: Palermo.

Next episode – Aeolians , Messina, Taormina.

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