Blog

Stepping into the same river twice

They say that once is a mistake. And twice is a choice. With this in mind we found ourselves at Mend. Again. Our very first ice bath was back in January, and here we were, in March, back for more.

If you are a regular reader of this travel blog, you will know that Mend is a relatively new addition to the Margaret River wellness scene. Set up in 2023 it has quickly gained a cult following, offering a range of options, including what we were here for once more, early on a Saturday morning. 

Mend Motions and the ice bath

The “Mend Motions” is a 90 minute session, with a maximum capacity of six guests. The idea is that you cycle the time around the infrared sauna, the ice bath, and the warming plunge pool. Prior to your first session you are sure to do what we inevitably did. Try to calculate how long this meant in each, and how we could possibly fill 90 minutes.

Let me tell you, once you are there, time is the last thing you are thinking of. In fact, on both visits now we could not believe how fast the time went. This is the exact condition that psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called “flow”. The state you get into when time seems to magically pass.

And pass it does.

Warming up to cool down

With my belly still warm and pleasantly digesting the delicious pain au chocolat we had for breakfast from across the road at Margaret River Bakery, we got into our bathers, showered quickly, and entered the sauna. This morning it looked as though there were only three of us, but we had two others join us later. As everyone usually starts at the same time there is some mental gymnastics trying to work out who gets to move on from the sauna first. Our companion looked like a veteran and kept checking his smartwatch to ensure he had been in the sauna for his regulation time.

We had much less rigour, and I hate regulations, so we decided to head to the ice bath first. A thought that had been giving me mild anxiety since we re-booked our session some weeks before. That anxiety didn’t ease when we saw that the ice bath was literally full of ice. On our first visit the water was a balmy 4.3 degrees. This morning it was hovering around 2 degrees. I am glad one of us has bags of courage. Displaying her courage, Victoria stepped straight into the bath, parting the ice as she sank down into the deep tub. A series of quick sharp intakes of breath and she soon settled into the deep breathing that is required for ice bath immersion.

And breathe

With the clock set for three minutes, I guided Victoria through a visualisation of being sat under a warming sun. Dipping into the ocean in the Maldives. Anything to take her mind off what the near freezing temperature of the water was doing to her fight, flight, and freeze response. As you first enter the cold water your brain senses danger and screams at you to get out. A natural evolutionary reaction, designed to keep you alive. The first battle is over riding that voice and reminding yourself that you are in fact safe and have no need to escape to save your life.

The second battle is with your breathing. Getting it under control. Slowing it right down. Regulating your parasympathetic nervous system. Your “rest and digest” system. Once you have this under control you have your third and final battle. With the clock. Once you have got this far you will be surprised to note that you will be more than half way through the interminable three minutes. Now, you just have to avoid peeping at the digital clock on the wall as the seconds slowly tick by. Thoughts of Maldives and the warming ocean appear to help.

Winning the mental battle

The strange thing is, by the time the clock starts beeping, telling you that you can escape, part of you thinks “I can do longer”. That you have this. Thankfully, this is only a small part and the larger part inside me demands that I get out. Mindfully stepping out of the ice bath you find that you are tingling all over. Your legs have seized up a little. It is important at this point to move slowly. Listen to your body. Do a little stretching before heading to the warm embrace of the plunge pool.

Ah. Just how good does the plunge pool feel after your ice bath immersion? Slowly sinking into the warming waters, noticing the feelings return to your body. Start to feel human again. Realising that you have completed the first of three cycles. As you look at the clock, you do a double take. How has so much time passed? And realising that if you stay in the comfort of the plunge pool for much longer you won’t get to complete all three cycles. That is flow.

At the end of 90 minutes, showering, you do immediately feel the effects of the morning. You feel on a high. Your body feels good. And my thoughts start turning to a walk along the beach and a good coffee.

Will we return for take 3?

A different kind of day

The day after we had time to reflect whilst visiting one of our favourite venues in the South West. Not just for the food, which is AMAZING, also for the wine, which is world class. We first discovered Glenarty Road whilst on a trip from Margaret River to Pemberton. We paid a visit to the lighthouse at Cape Augusta, before heading through Karridale and calling in at “The Farm’.

On that occasion we just had a wine tasting. On several visits since we have always made sure to book ourselves in for lunch. With a philosophy of “paddock to plate”, there is a simple elegance at Glenarty Road that has simply stolen our hearts. Fine dining, in a shed. Being a working farm you also get a chance to see where your produce comes from. The carbon footprint is very low as everything is produced either right there at Glenarty Road, or by one of their neighbours.

Sitting down to eat I am not sure how Victoria felt when the waitress complemented her on the perfume she was wearing.

“Is that Chanel?” she asked.

“Yes”, replied Victoria.

“Oh, i love it. My mum wears it.”

The conversation kind of ended there. Luckily, the food saved the day.

As always when visiting wine country, and in a region as large as the South West of Australia, one of you needs to be the skipper. For this particular trip, Victoria had the car keys. I got to enjoy an extra glass of their excellent 2023 Kinfolk Chardonnay. Oh my!

Thoughts of returning

Glenarty Road is a place that we continue to return to. We will again. And as I sipped my wine I wondered when our next visit to Mend, for the ice bath, would be.

The Hot Spot for 2025

It pays to get ahead of the trends. Visit a place before it becomes the next Santorini. Not easy in today’s hyper connected world. When a photo shared on social media could result in a swarm of influencers immediately removing any of the beauty that was apparent to earlier visitors.

Having recently read an article in Conde Nast Traveller Magazine about the hottest spot for food and drink in 2025, I was relieved that we already had a trip booked. A trip that would allow us to enjoy the place before the hordes descended. It turns out we needn’t have worried.

Perth – A Long Way from Anywhere

Living in Perth comes with a large downside. It is a long way from anywhere else in Australia. This trip fell into our “short flight” category, with Adelaide being only 2 hours 50 minutes away. Flying early in the morning somewhat compensated for the time zone change. With clocks going forward two and a half hours upon landing. 

Yes, you read that right. There is an erroneous half hour in there. Apparently harking back to 1899, and a time when local businesses wanted to be closer to Melbourne and cricketers wanted more daylight to play extra overs. The move was made away from the traditional one hour difference between adjacent time zones. Why they still have it is another question.

Clare Valley Wine Region

This was our first visit to Clare Valley, and having visited both Barossa Valley and McLaren Vale wine regions, also in Adelaide, we were excited to try out some new cellar doors. Also, we had heard that the region is very proud of their Riesling. Travelling with hand luggage only, we already knew it would be a difficult decision which bottles to pack and bring home with us. If you are reading this, and work at Qantas, we promise we remained under the 10kg hand luggage limits. Pinky promise.

Mount Horrocks was the first vineyard we visited. After one and half hours in the car, north from Adelaide (130kms), we were glad to stretch the legs and try a cold drink. Mount Horrocks is located in a village called Auburn, in the south of Clare Valley. Certified 100% organic and biodynamic, we joined just one other couple in the blissfully air conditioned cellar door and got to work.

Winemaker, Stephanie Toole, has an award hanging in the cellar door, for her services to wine making in the region. And this is richly deserved, based on the wines that we got to try. Riesling being the wine that now defines Clare Valley, the 2024 Watervale Riesling was exquisite. What I hadn’t realised before this trip was the cellaring potential of Riesling. For instance, this wine could potentially be laid down for up to 15 years.If only I had that kind of patience.

Wine Influencers and the Power of Social Media

One surprise that I walked away with was a bottle of Nero D’Avola. What I didn’t know was that this sumptuous Sicilian red wine from Mount Horrocks already has a cult following. The lady in the cellar door telling us a funny story. Of how she suddenly started getting lots of young people rocking up, phones in hand, pointing to someone called Tom Gilbey, saying “we only want to try the wine he is having”.

As with the lady working at Mount Horrocks, I am not on the app called Tik Tok either, but apparently Mr Gilbey has been creating quite the storm, recommending the Nero D’Avola to his 200+ thousand followers. As I mentioned earlier, the power of social media is shrinking the world.

Before we headed to our home for the weekend, “Stables by the Vines”, a converted stable in a small village called Mintaro, we called in at Claymore Wines. Part of me wished we hadn’t. I was greeted by Liverpool FC memorabilia and a wine called “YNWA”. I bit my tongue and reluctantly agreed that the whole range of wines, both white and red (including the obscenely named one) was very quaffable. So quaffable that Mrs C ordered a box of 6 to be shipped back West. I did wonder if it was the wine, or the football affiliation that convinced her to get her credit card out.

Sleepy Mintaro

Mintaro was a short drive away and if we thought that Clare Valley had been quiet, it was to get even quieter. Mintaro has a pub, a post office, a lawn bowls club, one small cellar door with a restaurant that was closed for a month, and nothing else. Literally. Perhaps one of the quietest spots we have ever stayed in. And it was so peaceful. For dinner we strolled the two minutes across to the pub, the Magpie and Stump, which is apparently famous in the region. I suppose when you are the only pub for miles, there is a lot to be famous for.

A typical country pub, with locals perched in their usual seats at the bar, and a food menu that is “classic” heavy. I had food envy when I saw Victoria’s chicken schnitty. My pork ribs were good, whilst not excellent. One thing that strikes me when we leave Western Australia is the shortage of craft beers. Adelaide is rightly proud of its Coopers beer, and it complemented my dinner well, and I would have loved a wider range to choose from.

The Riesling Trail

Covering a distance of 33kms, from Riverton in the north and Auburn in the south, the Riesling Trail was formerly part of a railway line that ran all the way from Adelaide to Spalding. Opened in 1994 as the Riesling Trail, it is now firmly part of the fibre of Clare Valley and is a massive draw for tourists. 

We collected our ebikes from Riesling Trail Bike Hire, and had a great conversation with Kent, the owner since opening his doors 15 years ago. A very down to earth, convivial, and friendly man, Kent advised on what he thought our best options were on a day when the mercury was forecast to hit the high 30s.

Paulette Winery and those ants

Our first stop was pre-planned as we had a wine tasting flight booked at Paulette Wines in Polish Hill River. Setting off on our bikes, and getting used to the gears and the battery assistance, we made light work of the hill up to the winery. Chrissy in the cellar door was very friendly, giving us the kind of service that we soon realised was indicative of everyone in Clare Valley. Maybe it is all the Riesling, maybe it is something in the water, but the people of Clare Valley were so friendly, fun, and welcoming.

And this is what we came for. Not only a visual work of art, but some great wines and delicious paired food. I opted for the “Riesling Flight” and Victoria had the “Premium Flight”, despite one of the dishes (the second from the left) being adorned by green ants. Yes. Green ants. Chrissy told us that they add a pop and a hit of citrus to the dish. I am not sure it was the pop, or the citrus that caused the look on Victoria’s face as she ate them.

Back on the Riesling Trail

Heading further south on the Riesling Trail we crossed the highway and joined the John Horrocks loop, having great tastings at both Kilikanoon and Skillogalee (Skilly). Both are easier to pronounce at the start of a day wine tasting, than at the end. Over the hill from Skilly, and down into the valley we called at Clare Valley Brewing Company, having an excellent hazy pale ale and splitting a tasty fish and chips.

Trundling slowly back on the trail, we took time to reflect on a really enjoyable day. A safe way to explore the Clare Valley, whilst being out and appreciating the native fauna and flora. We were glad of the battery assistance on the way home, our legs, and the heat starting to tire us out. Kent at Riesling Trail Bike Hire was very happy to see us return a little early as he had plans to “smash a large gin and tonic”. 

Relaxing in Mintaro

Our plans were relaxing back at the cottage in Mintaro. Cracking open a chilled bottle of local Watervale Riesling and sitting with views of the vines and rolling hills. It is amazing when you realise what that noise is. Silence. No cars passing by. No voices nearby. Just the sound of birdsong. We marvelled as Crimson Rosellas came to visit with the Flaming Galahs in the garden whilst a solitary Kookaburra stood guard, high up in the nearby gum tree.

Sat there, sipping my Riesling, something kept flashing across my peripheral vision. There, again. And suddenly I noticed that there were bunny rabbits everywhere. Literally. Their fluffy white tails on display when any noise startled them. 

Chatting to a local we discovered that they have been an issue for a long time in Mintaro. With the long running drought affecting the area, the rabbits, like all the animals, are desperate for water. This results in them chewing through reticulation pipes, and digging up new plants. One drastic course of action the locals have taken is leaving out “spicy carrots” for the rabbits. Needless to say, one spicy carrot results in one less rabbit in Mintaro. 

Whilst there were many rabbits, one thing that struck us for the whole three days we were in Clare Valley was just how few tourists there were. Before a really good lunch and paddle of craft beer at Pikes Beer Company, we visited Pikes Wines next door and were the only people in the cellar door. Just prior we had a very enjoyable tasting at Hill River Wines, and, other than a large hare, and a duck, again were the only visitors that had been that day. Parking up the car for the day, our final tasting was at Reilly’s in Mintaro. At 4pm the young man working in the cellar door was cleaning up. Before us, he had only had one visitor all day. Where was everyone?

Conde Nast and THAT article

Whilst in Pikes Wines I had a chat with the gentleman working there, about what he thought the impact would be of a global travel magazine, the size of Conde Nast, announcing Clare Valley as the number one food and drink destination in the world. It wasn’t the response I expected.

He had not even heard of the magazine, or the article. Neither had his colleague. Blank looks all around. I think this is a travesty. That the Clare Valley region, and the people working there are not all over this massive, positive piece of global press, and doing all they can to make the most of the opportunity.

And what an opportunity. This is a beautiful part of the world. Only a short drive from Adelaide, and an international airport. World class wines, and it is not all about Riesling. We sampled some excellent Pinot Gris, Cabernet Franc, Semillon, and not forgetting the unforgettable Nero D’Avola that Tom Gilbey is so fond of. The wines were so good we shipped three boxes home and packed two each in our hand luggage, and carried one on to the plane. Twenty three bottles to add to our burgeoning collection at home. 

Visit Before you Can’t

My recommendation to you is to visit before everyone in the region, and across the world, finally gets around to reading that article. And before any more wine influencers post content from one of the local cellar doors. I predict that in a very short space of time, Clare Valley will be like many other wine regions in Australia. The top tourist draw of the state, and you will need Willy Wonkas Golden Ticket just to get a reservation.

The what and the how

• We flew Perth to Adelaide with Qantas.

• Car hire was from Enterprise at Adelaide Airport.

• Bike hire was from Riesling Trail Bike Hire.

• Clare Valley is 130kms north of Adelaide city centre.

The Rise of the Ice Bath

Unless you have been living under a rock, or have been disconnected from the internet for the last five years, you will have heard of, and seen somebody attempting an ice bath. You have those that approach the bath very tentatively and start by sticking their toe in. Screaming hysterically as they run away shouting, “it is too cold”. And you have those that step straight in as though they were on the shores of the Maldives.

Today was my turn to find out which camp I was in. Today was our very first ice bath experience.

The benefits of hot/cold therapy are many, if the current research is to be believed. Our bodies are complex organisms and much happens below the surface when we expose ourselves to the contrast of heat and cold. You experience an adrenaline spike that targets pain and inflammation. There is a decrease in the stress hormone, cortisol. And your lymphatic system is triggered, flushing out toxins.

Mend, Margaret River

Located in the heart of Margaret River, a small town some three hours south of Perth, Mend was established at the end of 2023 as a “premium recovery centre and spa”. A place where you can mend your body. Packages include the use of an infrared sauna and massages, but we were here today to experience the “Mend Motions”.

Mend Motions is a 90 minute session in a shared space with a maximum of six people. For a cost of $65 each we had the use of the Finnish style sauna, a hot plunge pool, and critically, the ice bath. 

Guided Tour of Mend

Being our first experience at Mend, we had a short guided tour and were told how to best use the 90 minutes we had. The idea was to have three rounds of 30 minutes. Starting in the sauna, then the ice bath, and finishing the cycle in the hot plunge pool. This seemed easy enough. I enjoy saunas and whilst the dry heat is not for everyone I feel invigorated everytime I use a sauna.

The Ice Bath Experience

Stepping out of the sauna it was time for our first ever ice bath. The lady who gave us the short guided tour earlier was back to step us through the ice bath. As she set the wall timer above the ice bath for three minutes I nervously looked at Victoria, wondering who was going first. With a sigh of relief, she stepped forward and stepped straight into the bath. Without any hesitation she was soon fully submerged in the icy cold water. It now appeared to be too late for me to back out.

As Victoria focussed on slow deep breathing, she was advised to just think of it as cold water. Which is exactly what it was. The trick is to override your brain which is screaming and sending out streams of adrenaline, telling your body it is in danger and to escape as fast as you can. Apparently, this was the first mental challenge. One that Victoria took in her stride.

It is amazing to me how cold I felt just watching Victoria. I was actually a little scared of the three minute timer finishing. This would mean it was my turn. I wasn’t sure I was ready.

With calming words from the lady from Mend, the time was suddenly up.

“How was it?”, I asked.

“Cold”, was all the reply I got.

No Backing Out Now

Here goes, I thought. And not to be outdone, I made sure I got straight in, and under the water before my brain had time to register what was happening. I was in, and the seconds were counting down. I had previously read of a technique whereby you think of the sunshine beating down. Trick the brain into thinking you were warm.

This did not work. And by the time I realised it didn’t work, I was already two minutes in. This was a win, in my book. As my legs and upper arms started to feel like they were burning, which I know sounds odd, I focused on my long, slow breaths. In for nine. Out for nine. Suddenly, the timer on the wall was chiming. I had done it. My first ice bath. For three minutes. 

Regaining The Use of My Legs

Getting out, we were advised to slowly stretch your legs. Move. Get the blood flowing through your body and then step into the hot plunge pool. Apart from a slight tingling, the plunge pool was a welcome relief and after a minute or two I started to feel human again. Laid there, luxuriating in the warm water, I got a sense of dread, realising that we still had two more rounds to go.

“Don’t worry,” said George, a young traveller from the UK, “it gets easier the second time around.”

George had opted out of the Parkrun that his girlfriend was doing that morning so he could revisit Mend. I had to question his state of mind. I am not a regular runner but we had a warm summer day in Margaret River, and he had chosen to submerge himself in arctic temperature water.

We started round two, back in the sauna, and had a brief chat with a couple on holiday from the Central Coast, north of Sydney. 

“It gets easier the second time around”, they reassured us.

Yes, I thought, so why are you only doing two minutes each? 

Ice Bath Masters

For the second and third round we were no longer guided by the Mend staff member. We were on our own. And just like our first ice bath, we each took our turn and boldly stepped straight in, and went under. Apparently, having your toes popping out helps. I will gladly accept any edge I can get.

It really is true. Half of the battle is mental. As soon as you are in your brain is shouting at you to get out. And it would be so easy to listen to. And jump straight out. But, slowly breathing through it, focusing solely on your breath, really does quieten the mind. I worked out that the longer my breaths, the faster the time seemed to pass.

Sat in the hot plunge pool, George appeared.

“So, did it get easier?” he asked.

“Absolutely not, but thank you for the encouragement.”

We were two rounds down, and one to go. We could do this.

Reflecting on the Mend Experience

And we did. Our 90 minute session had come to a close. Where did the time go? Sipping our liquorice, peppermint and ginger tea, Victoria asked me whether I would do it again.

Ask me in a week, was my reply. I am headed for the beach.

Leaving Taormina, we took a taxi down the steep and winding streets to the train station. Actually called Taormina-Giardini Naxos, the station is one of the world’s most elegant. Spotted in films such as Francis Ford Coppolla’s “Godfather III”, the Art Nouveau station has been serving this part of Sicily since 1866. Today, we were headed up the coast, to Messina, where we would change trains for our final destination of the day.

That destination was to be a further 185 kms west of Messina, to the resort town of Cefalu. With a town centre dominated by the very impressive Duomo, construction for which started in 1131, Cefalu is one of Italy’s most popular destinations, attracting both Italian and overseas tourists in their millions. We had two nights to explore. 

Upon arrival at our bed and breakfast we again had no elevator. Once more we were carrying our bags up multiple flights of very steep stairs. I am burning off my gelato calories faster than I am eating it. Hot, sweaty, and trying to smile whilst checking in. Have I ever told you how hot Sicily is in the height of summer? It is not the weather for climbing stairs.

Thankfully, we had good air conditioning, and cold water. Before too long we were ready to head out and explore. And perhaps find some gelato.

A Sicilian Slush Puppy

What we did find was another Sicilian staple. Granita. If you are from the UK, think of a Slush Puppy. A granita is a smaller, more refined version. The most popular flavour being a very sharp lemon. Served in a small cup and eaten with a spoon, a granita is THE way to cool down in this part of the world. Earlier that day we also had something else that you may be familiar with. Arancini originate from Sicily. What I didn’t realise was that the name, arancini, is derived from the word for orange. Which makes sense when I think of the shape and the colour. Golden globes of heaven.

Sicilians are very proud of their arancini, and there are specialist shops dedicated to their production. I can confirm, they do make the best street lunch. You can get every filling imaginable in these little globes of rice, and for us the simplest fillings are always the best. This is why travelling is so culturally rewarding. Getting to experience a culture through its food. Hundreds, and sometimes thousands of years of history, of people passing through a place, leaving their distinct cultural fingerprint in the cuisine. It is one of the joys of my life.

Beach to Beef in Cefalu

Cefalu is more than just its food. There is also a great swathe of beach that we planned to spend some time on. As we saw in other parts of Italy, Italians do love a day at the beach. They arrive early, with the whole family in tow, and set up for the day. We are a little less hard core, and we spent a few hours frolicking in the sea, with me taking intermittent trips to the nearby shop for cold beers.

When we planned our trip to Cefalu, besides the beach, we also planned to have beef. We discovered that there was a restaurant called “BIF Braceria” that specialised in steaks. Knowing that by the time we hit Cefalu, we would enjoy a break from pizza and pasta, we had booked a table for dinner.

What a night we had. Steak tartare. Followed by a t-bone steak. Complemented by a 2015 bottle of Sicilian red wine. A highlight of the trip, and quite possibly one of the most expensive meals we have ever enjoyed. Worth every Euro. Life is for living, and we will forget what we paid long before we forget the memories made that evening. Memento mori.

Palermo

More memories were to be made, and following a great visit to Cefalu we were headed to the capital to finish the Sicilian part of our trip. A short train ride from Cefalu and we were soon wheeling our bags through the streets of Palermo. We found our accommodation superbly located in the bustling heart of Palermo. And yes, you guessed it. No elevator. More stairs. But, what a view from the breakfast terrace.

We were now down to the last four days of  the holiday. Three of which we would spend in Palermo, a city that has much to offer. But first, Aperol Spritz. Tradition is tradition.

The Food Markets of Palermo

Palermo is famous for its outdoor food markets. Sharing many characteristics with the souks of Arabia, the markets are an assault on the senses. Vibrant, noisy, and smells that compel you to grab lunch on the go. Palermo has four historic quarters, each with its own market. The most popular being Vucciria and Ballaro. Just strolling through is an experience in itself. A must do whilst in Palermo.

No Mafia

Another place I would recommend is “No Mafia”, a museum (free entry) dedicated to the history of the mafia. Highlighting the tragic cost the people of Sicily have paid as a result of the mafia, No Mafia is an educational museum, showcasing the work done by the justice system in Sicily in trying to eradicate the insidious tentacles of the mafia. Tentacles that seemed to be entwined in many parts of Sicilian life for hundreds of years, from their humble beginnings in the Sicilian countryside to a worldwide organisation.

With thoughts turning back to food, it was time to find a recommendation we had received from the bed and breakfast host. Apparently, hidden away in the back of a monastery there was a bakery serving up the best cannoli in the whole of Sicily. This is what I am here for. Following the directions we got we headed through a quiet doorway, down labyrinthine corridors, eventually coming across a large room that housed the bakery. 

And the cannoli were…huge! Of course we were getting one each. Sat in the quiet courtyard, slowly working our way through the cannoli, all we could do was smile. This was indeed the best cannoli in the whole of Sicily, if not Italy. Palermo is a great city to explore by foot. Which is a relief as it may take me a week to burn off that cannoli. 

Palermo on Foot

We explored all corners of the city. And for a city that is over 2,700 years old, there is a lot to explore.  From the newer parts of the city, at the marina, to the very oldest with the combination of Baroque, Art Nouveau, Gothic and Romanesque architecture. Quattro Canti is one of the most impressive examples. A crossing of two main roads, the buildings on all four sides have diagonal Baroque facades creating an almost octagonal form. Quite the sight.

Our time in Sicily was drawing to a close. We had experienced the best of it. Food. Beaches. Architecture. History. And people. Such a rich place to visit. Rich in culture. World class wines. In another world we would stay here and explore the south coast, but that will have to wait. We had a date with the city to end all cities. A plane was due to transport us to the Eternal City.

Craving Carbonara

The last night of our European Odyssey would be spent in Rome. And boy, was I looking forward to getting my hands on a bowl of perfect carbonara. As soon as we knew we would be flying home from Rome I knew where we would spend the evening. The suburb of Trastevere is not the secret it once was. It has been truly discovered by the people of the world, but you can still find hidden pockets of tranquility, as we did that evening, sitting down to Rigatoni Carbonara in a quiet square.

Flying into Rome in the afternoon, and waiting almost two hours for our baggage to appear, we just had time for a whistle stop tour of all our favourite Roman spots. Staying within sight of the Coliseum made this an easy visit. Strolling along from there to the “typewriter building”, (the Victor Emmanuel II monument) and around to the Trevi Fountain. By the time we had explored Piazza Navona and the Pantheon we needed a cold beer, which gave us the energy we needed to visit the Spanish Steps before, tiredly, walking back to the bed and breakfast to change for dinner.

Reflections

Over a delicious bowl of carbonara we reflected on the last five weeks. Starting in England, visiting family and friends, before we headed to Puglia and Basilicata. Sicily followed, and now we were closing out the trip here in Rome. We had seen, and eaten so much. And again, I was reminded how much I love Italy. I wondered when we would be back.

The Journey is the Destination

Whilst the destination part of the holiday was over, we still had the “journey” part to enjoy. Our Emirates chauffeur collected us from our bed and breakfast in Rome and quite possibly broke all land speed records as he drove us to the airport. Checked in seamlessly, I was soon trying to set a personal best of how many lamb cutlets I could eat.

The Emirates Business Class lounge at Rome is a sight to behold. A quiet caccoon of paradise where we spent our last couple of hours on Italian soil. Restaurant quality food. Self pour of champagne. And boarding direct from the lounge. Settling into my business class seat, glass of Veuve Cliquot in hand, and I was mentally calculating how many years I would need to save for us to do it all over again.

Moving on from Matera

As hard as it was to leave Matera, we had places to be. We would be staying in Italy for a while yet, and it would entail catching a plane across the water. The last week or so has seen us exploring Puglia and, with Matera, scratching the surface in Basilicata. Both these regions have exceeded expectations. And we hope to revisit both, at some time in the future. 

If you are thinking of exploring Southern Italy, I would suggest you move it up the travel backlog. Right now, Puglia remains free of the hordes of tourists you see in other places around the world. It won’t stay that way for long. The place is too beautiful, and the food too good.

Arriving in Sicily

Knowing how much we enjoy the food of Italy, it is great to know that for the second leg of this trip we will be exploring Sicily, a short flight from Bari airport on the mainland. If thinking of Sicily has you immediately thinking of The Godfather movies, I am here to tell you that it offers so much more.

Sicily has a very storied history, and this explains why it can often feel very un-Italian. It was merged with the Kingdom of Italy as recently as 1861, and whilst it is the largest region within Italy, you can taste, smell, and feel the very distinctive culture of this Mediterranean island. The largest in fact.

La Cosa Nostra

Many peoples have passed through Sicily over the years, making various claims. In the 8th century BC it was colonised by the Greeks. And at various times the Romans, the Muslims, the Vikings, the Normans, the Spanish and the British have populated the island of Sicily. Reunification with the Italian mainland brought its own problems, with the Sicilian locals protesting against the attempts of the “North” to industrialise the island.

It is partly as a result of this unrest that gave the world the Mafia. Local networks, going by the name Cosa Nostra, became a part of the Sicilian social structure. Using violence to impose their “law”, the mafia had created a foothold that would last up to the present day. Emigration saw local mafia bosses move to the United States of America, and ever since, the “mob” has been glorified on TV. This came full circle when Francis Ford Coppolla shot scenes from his Godfather franchise here on the island. There is even a small town called Corleone, perhaps the inspiration for one of the most iconic movie characters we have seen.

In the shadow of Mt Etna

Whilst the mafia still exist today, you wouldn’t see any obvious signs of this, especially as a tourist. Sicily remains a very popular place for people to visit, and our visit was to start in Catania, on the east coast. Catania lives permanently in the shadow of Mt Etna, a very active volcano. In the days before our arrival it had erupted, with lava seen exploding out of the top. By the time we arrived, this had calmed down, and all we saw were plumes of smoke and lots of volcanic ash in the street.

I suspect Catania is not top of most tourists’ “must visit” list whilst in Sicily. We only spent one night in the city and managed to see a lot, including the famed fish market, views of Mt Etna, and much of the famed Baroque architecture Sicily is famous for.

Taormina

Our second stop in Sicily couldn’t have been more different. We took the bus along the coast to the beautiful town of Taormina. Perhaps a little too beautiful, judging by the vast increase in tourist numbers. Having spent time in Puglia, then Catania, this was the first time the vast hordes of tourists felt a little overwhelming. The narrow main street in Taormina was packed with tours from the visiting cruise ships. Little flag waving tour guides traipsing tourists up and down the main strip.

The location of Taormina is stunning. Perched high up on a hill, overlooking the Ionian Sea, with vistas stretching as far as the eye can see. One day we foolishly took it upon ourselves to walk down to the beach. It took 30 minutes downhill. And a little longer coming in the other direction. With a stop half way for a cold beer to ensure that I didn’t die on the way back.

Meeting a real life Nonna

Our bed and breakfast felt a million miles away from the hustle and bustle, yet, we found out that we could walk there in a matter of minutes. The host, a quintessential Italian nonna, had lived and raised her children in the same house, so knew all the shortcuts. We could go from our silent balcony with views across to Mt Etna, to greedily eating cannoli in the main street in Taormina in under 15 minutes. Bellissimo.

Taormina is unlike many small Italian towns. The number of high end luxury shops immediately tell you that this town is targeting a certain demographic. Those with fat wallets. This takes a little of the shine away, in my opinion. You don’t need to come all the way to Taormina to go shopping for a watch that will set you back as much as a small car.

We did a lot of exploring of the side streets and found a little Italian grocery selling cold beer at a price I am very comfortable with. Perched on the supplied stools outside the store, using a handily placed bottle opener, we were far away from the madding crowd. The simple life that I so adore Italy for.

Passeggiata time

The evenings quietened down a little, as people headed back to their cruise ships and coaches. We had two very enjoyable evenings taking our evening passeggiata and pre dinner Aperol Spritz. It was in Taormina that we had our fastest ever pizza served. We ordered from the staff, who entered it into a handheld device. We also ordered an entree to nibble whilst our pizzas were being cooked. 

No sooner had the waitress walked away than two pizzas arrived. 

“No, no”, I said,” these can’t be ours. We have just ordered.”

Quick check, and yes, these were indeed ours. I was told that they only take a few seconds in the very hot wood fired pizza oven. That said, the pizza chef must have been adding toppings even as the order was coming through. We had almost finished our pizza by the time the entree turned up.

The Greek Theatre

One of the highlights of any trip to Taormina, perhaps even the whole of Sicily, is a visit to the Greek Theatre. Dating back to the 3rd century BC, the theatre remains stunning. What a backdrop. Sat in the seats, looking out to the ocean, it is hard not to imagine the people that have passed through this most impressive of sights.

Our thoughts turn to Cefalu

Strolling back to the bed and breakfast, we were still a little incredulous as to quite how fast the pizza arrived. Unfortunately, the days seemed to be going just as quick. Already this was night three in Sicily, and tomorrow was time to move on again.

We had a train booked to Cefalu. A place we were very excited about visiting.

Dolce far niente

Leaving Gallipoli was hard. It is the sort of small Italian town that you could lose yourself in for months. The slow vibe. Easy pace of life. And how vibrant it feels when the sun goes down. No expectations. High rewards. Dolce far niente. Picking up a sentence or two of Italian each day. As your “buon giornios” start to connect with your “come stais?” one day you find yourself thinking in Italian.

Leaving Puglia for Basilicata

Isn’t that the dream? It is certainly one of mine. That dream will have to wait. Today we were headed out of Puglia. Although, I didn’t realise this when we booked the trip. Basilicata is a close neighbour of Puglia and is home to one of the oldest cities in the world. A city that stops you in your tracks. Takes your breath away. Has you entranced and almost hypnotised.

Matera is truly magical. It looks like no place you have ever been. It looks uninhabited, and rather eerie. This is until you get up close and discover how wonderfully the people of the city have maintained the history whilst converting many of the stone cave dwellings into bed and breakfasts and restaurants. This bereft looking town is actually a hive of activity. 

Arriving by car in Matera

With no private cars allowed into the old town, once again, we parked some distance away. And from arriving into the newer part of town, with no glimpse of Matera in sight, we could have been, and indeed were, in any small nondescript Italian town. Nothing against Italian towns but many do look rather uninspiring. Buildings that looked perfunctory rather than perfect. Architecture from the 60s and 70s. Could we really be close to the magical Matera that I had seen and heard about from television programmes?

As seems to be common in Italy, we had been sent a homemade video from the host of our accommodation, directing us where to park. With Victoria driving and me trying to match the video to the streets as they quickly passed me by, it took us a couple of attempts before we got our bearings. The tension was eased somewhat by the running commentary of our host, in broken English.

“Here on the left. Parking. Possible. Here, also. Possible. There, by blue lines. Not possible.”

Having found a space that was indeed possible, we trundled our bags over the cobbled streets, turning a corner, and literally realising we were there. Right there. A low wall offered us views right across a valley. A valley of stone. And if you looked really carefully, focused your eyes, you could see little doorways and windows cut into the stone. How many thousands of years had Italians enjoyed the very same view?

Has Djokovic moved to Matera?

Our host, an uncanny Novak Djokovic lookalike was on the balcony, waving across to us as we crossed the piazza, looking confused at the Google Map on our phone, trying to work out which direction we should be walking in. Novak came down and took one of our bags as we climbed three flights of stairs. Hard work, and worth it, seeing the balcony the accommodation had, with unhindered views across Matera, towards the stone hills that look as though they have dead black eyes, staring right back at you.

“Novak” was a very friendly chap, and was happy to hear that as a result of his very helpful video, it was “possible” for us to find a free parking spot for the next 3 days. In what appeared to be a pattern on this Italian trip, we were checked in by our host, given some information, and they quickly departed. Never to be seen again. A few hours later, over a cold glass of Soave, you could be forgiven for thinking that Novak was an apparition.

The “shame” of the Sassi

As recently as the 1950s, Matera was dubbed the “shame of Italy” as a result of the overwhelming poverty in the town. Some 16,000 people were forcibly moved out of the Sassi (stone buildings) and into new housing. “Modern” apartments that can still be seen close by. They look like an aberration. And this left Matera as an empty shell.

It would have stayed this way. Perhaps forever had it not been for some enterprising locals. Seeing the opportunity offered by this they created a local group, intent on restoring and maintaining the history of a town that gets to play ancient Jerusalem in films. When Matera was listed as a UNESCO heritage site in 1993 they knew that a corner had been turned.

Fixer Uppers in Matera

With the government offering 30 year leases, at minimal cost, for people to purchase a “fixer upper”, there are now over 3000 locals living in the Sassi. This number swells as the word continues to seep out amongst tourists, with Matera starting to become a little like the gold rush of years gone by. The town was one of the busier ones of our travels around Southern Italy and I couldn’t help wondering if there is a tipping point for towns like Matera? The effects of over tourism on small Italian towns would soon become very evident to us during a visit to Taormina in Sicily.

The tightrope walk of tourism

Having the “right” amount of tourism is a fine line to walk. The town relies on tourists. They need to be drawn in. And Matera alone is enough of a draw. As the secret gets out, and spreads further, as happens exponentially quick in this age of social media, the risk is that you are dealing with another Santorini. Lines of people queuing up to get the perfect shot. Aggressive influencers asking you to move as you are “in their shadow of the photo”. Yes, this actually happened to me in Santorini. I will let you decide whether I moved for them or not.

That said, as travellers, we definitely benefit from social media. For large parts of this trip, Victoria had been doing Insta(gram) research. The fruits of which do find us in some spectacular places. In Matera it was Zipa cafe bar. Cut into the rocks, high up in Matera. We found a bean bag and had a drink amongst the rocks.

Maintaining our traditions in Matera

Right now, the town did not feel over touristed. Puglia, and as now in Basilicata, still felt a little under the radar. We were able to stroll around Matera through the day, and then come out for dinner in the evening without a reservation. We followed our Italian ritual of the passeggiata before the customary Aperol Spritz.

Each evening we became cave dwellers, the restaurants cut deep into the rock, and down flights of stairs. The effect was a restaurant not affected by the intense heat of the day. A restaurant where we got to sample some of the cuisine the region is famous for, cucina povera. Cuisine of the poor. I particularly enjoyed the bread soup. Using stale bread in a rich tomato broth. Delicious.

Strolling back through the dark streets of Matera we reflected on the amazing history of this place, and how, had things been different we would not have Matera to marvel at. There was a suggestion, which sounds incredulous with the passage of time, to concrete over the whole town back in the days of “shame”. Serenaded by a guitar strumming singer in the piazza, I am very grateful that Matera will be here, to be enjoyed, for generations to come.

Our last night on the mainland of Italy. What a trip. Now, our thoughts start to turn towards Sicily, tomorrow’s destination.