As we sipped our excellent cappuccini made by the conductor in the morning during our long train ride to Sicily we wondered if an Agatha Christie-like train mystery was unfolding next to us. After a couple hours, the mystery resolved with an unexpected twist! With a sigh of relief, the trip continued and we were part of one of the world's most unusual transportation piggybacks as we and our train crossed from the toe of the Italian boot over to the island of Sicily without a bridge or tunnel. And after our train pulled into the Cefalu station, we had returned to Sicily for the first time in about a quarter century. The rest of the trip involved many cannoli and at least one more mystery--whether we would find anything to eat in tiny Scopello!

Strangers on a Train

Italy has many overnight train routes, and if you book in advance, you can reserve a sleeper cabin for yourself. We've been curious about trying out the overnight trains to get to some distant parts of the Italian boot and we've been especially interested in taking one to Sicily. Our language school takes a break for Easter and we decided to head down to the big island by train over this break. A train station on the outskirts of Florence was the closest place we could get aboard. After midnight, the InterCityNotte 1963 train pulled up to the platform and we hopped on. We were already drowsy when we boarded the train. I took the top bunk and Sam took the bottom one and we both tried to settle into sleep. But sleeping on the train is more difficult than anticipated. There's the frequent sound of the squealing wheels and brakes, being jostled as the train takes curves, and other peculiar motions that seem to happen whenever you just nod off. How could anyone get a good night sleep on these things?

When we woke up the train conductor asked us what type of coffee we wanted, returned with 2 excellent cappuccini and an assortment of snacks. He knocked on the neighbor's door and no one answered. We ended up having an extended chat with the conductor who is from Catania but lives in Milan which he hates--as do seemingly all Italians--because it's a city for work/money. Every so often he would knock again loudly on the neighboring door. But nobody roused next door. Further down the Italian coast, this conductor got off and a new conductor boarded and again knocked every few minutes on the door still to no avail. What happened? Did the neighbors die in their sleep? It was difficult to imagine anyone sleeping so soundly with all the train motion and sound. The staff were noticeably nervous. Eventually this conductor rounded up several other train staff and they reluctantly opened the door to make sure the passengers were all right. We soon learned how someone could have slept through all this noise--he was deaf! And he also seemed like a jolly guy as he regularly checked in on our wellbeing for the rest of our ride.

Squeezing a Train onto a Boat

Sicily, is, of course, an island, and there's no bridge or tunnel between the toe of the boot and the island. So, for the train to continue its journey, it must be disassembled so that each car can be loaded onto a ferry. Then after the ferry crossing, the complementary process unfolds. It is amazing to watch. During the crossing, you can get out of the train and enjoy the view from the ferry deck, look at the train on the deck below, order Italian delicacies, etc. The ride offers some great coastal views of areas we hadn't seen yet. We stuck pins on a map for places that looked interesting. We boarded the train at midnight and as it approached 4pm the next day, we got off at Cefalu, and set foot on Sicilian land for the first time in over 25 years.

First Stop, Cefalu

One of our first international trips together was to Sicily back in the late 1990s. We enjoyed our visit but neither of us would have ever guessed we'd even consider living in Italy back then. Our last trip was during the Academy Awards and Roberto Benigni was up for awards for his movie Life is Beautiful. The whole of Italy was transfixed on whether he'd win. We had multiple dinners where the restaurant staff seemed much more interested in watching news coverage about him rather than serving us.

On that trip, long ago, we had spent a rainy day in Cefalu. We had good memories of this dramatically set place. A picturesque Mediterranean beach spreads in front of the the atmospheric old city and a gigantic rock erupts behind it. That rock, with it's very basic, blocky shape, looks a little like something a kid would draw. Cefalu is maybe even nicer than we remembered. The weather was perfectly springlike and we enjoyed long walks along the coast. Sam took several swims and we upped our cannoli consumption astronomically. Our Lucchese friend Laura, who warned us that we wouldn't eat well in France, upon hearing that we were going to Sicily, said, as her eyes lit up and her head swooned, "si mangia bene in Sicilia! You will gain weight!" And she's right about the food, although maybe not about the weight gain (luckily).

Palermo to Scopello

We'd also visited Palermo on that first trip and we liked this crumbly city. Back then, we ate so many blood oranges on that trip, we thought our cheap, unheated hotel would think that a murder had taken place there because of all the red stains on the towels. This time, we found Palermo less enjoyable. Dusty, chaotic, and a bit too focused on tourist cash. Almost immediately after getting there, we began researching where to go next. We ended up picking a small place called Scopello further west along the coast. We hired a driver to take us there and he was diplomatic but seemed surprised that we would go to such a small place (picolissimo as he said). And upon arrival, we learned why he was concerned. We rented a little house in Scopello, and the friendly host met us there amidst the intense scirocco winds that would blow for our whole stay there. Our host wasn't sure if any restaurants were currently open. He thought a minimarket might be open but he wasn't certain about this. We walked into town and the market was still closed for the off season. But the guy at the closed market said there's one about 2 km out of town that is open. So we walked to it and soon found that it was closed too! No food for us! We were there right before Easter and everything opens for Easter weekend, not a day before. Thankfully there was a pasticceria open and the next day we found a restaurant open. The food was good at the restaurant but the view from the restaurant extending over the coast, was spectacular.

Scopello is famous for a coastal walk and we did a chunk of it on our only full day there. It's a beautiful walk on a well-constructed trail along the coast with great views. And perhaps half of Germany was also walking the trail with us. Clearly Germans were on spring break and seeking Sicilian sun. With our bellies somewhat empty we decided to push on to Trapani. Our nice host took pity on us and told us he'd drive us to breakfast and then to the train station. It turns out he has a German girlfriend. He's visited her there and I asked what he thought of German food. He scrunched up his face as he contemplated what to say. And then he said (in Italian) "In Germany there are only three good things: beer, wurstel, and..., and..., and... I don't remember!" I'm not sure there could be a more succinct summary of how Italians feel about food outside their borders! (Side note: we just spent yesterday in Viareggio with a Milanese friend of Sam's and her parents. They visited the States a number of years ago and told us that during their 15 days in the US, they ate well 3 times. These folks take food to the level of bloodsport!)

Not Much Sleep in Trapani

Back in the train, we traveled from Castellammare del Golfo through the middle of Sicily, past the orchards growing one of our favorite olives, Castelvetrano, through Marsala, famous for its wine, and finally to Trapani, famed for its salt beds. Trapani soon grew on us. The old town is a fun place to explore. We'd read that the western portion of Sicily feels more like North Africa, while the eastern half feels more like Greece. That was an apt description. The coastal walls in Trapani looked like places we'd been in Morocco. We arrived in Trapani on Good Friday and it was only then that we learned they carry around twenty (twenty!) heavy casket-like objects with generally gory depictions of Jesus for 24 straight hours. Carrying these massive objects would be ok, but each object is followed by drummers and horn players. It was almost as difficult to sleep as that train ride down to Sicily. But they've been doing this for over 400 years, you can't stop them now!

We didn't have a bad (or even a mediocre) cannoli in Sicily but maybe the ones in Trapani were the best. We went into a bakery on the Saturday before Easter to get one more cannoli breakfast. Every display case in this bakery was filled with cassata, a typical Sicilian cake. On top of every cake was a note indicating who it was for and when they would pick it up. No cassata for us! As we headed back to Lucca on Easter Sunday, we saw many Sicilians bringing sweets back to the mainland for their families to happily devour.

Tuscan (and Ligurian) T-Rexes

Every time we travel in Italy, the locals ask us what we think of the Lucchesi and Tuscans. As soon as they can, they voice their opinion, which usually involves a mix of the following critiques of Tuscans: they are proud, stingy, closed, and think they invented the world and/or the Italian language. Almost inevitably, this leads to a specific hand gesture. The person will tuck their arms so their hands stick out at their shoulders and wiggle their fingers. This is how the Lucchesi are--their arms are so short that they can't reach in to their pockets to pay for anything. And soon, they'll move their hands even deeper into their torso and say this is the Genovesi, they are even more stingy! Clearly Tuscans (and Ligurians) take some scorn from the rest of the country. But then our Milanesi friends said Sicilians are fake-friendly. Meanwhile the people of Viareggio are so chatty they'll talk to a wall. Someday I want to make a map showing how Italians describe people in other parts of their country. But we need to travel around this fascinating place much more in order to have a chance of capturing the big themes.