I'll be honest—I rolled my eyes when my editor assigned this piece. Taormina? The place that shows up in every "hidden gems of Sicily" article even though it hasn't been hidden since, oh, 1787 when Goethe showed up and started telling everyone it was paradise on earth?
But here's the thing. He was right. Damn it.
I'm standing on my hotel terrace before 7 AM because I couldn't sleep (jet lag, too much Nero d'Avola the night before, whatever), and Etna is just... doing its thing. Puffing smoke into this ridiculous pink sky. The whole scene looks photoshopped. It's not.
So the Belmond Grand Hotel Timeo—this place opened back in 1873, which makes it Taormina's oldest hotel. They know what they're doing with breakfast. My mistake was showing up at 9:30 on the second day. Germans everywhere. Good tables gone. Now I wake up at 8. Smaller crowd, and Maria—one of the waitresses—actually has time to chat about where to eat dinner.
Next door there's the San Domenico Palace. Monks lived here until the 1400s or something. Four Seasons bought it. They've polished every surface to the point where I kept feeling like I shouldn't touch anything. But walk through to the cloistered gardens anyway—nobody checks if you're a guest, just act like you belong.
The restaurant situation there: Principe Cerami holds a Michelin star. A guy named Massimo Mantarro runs the kitchen. I ordered the red prawn carpaccio mostly because someone at the next table had it. Pistachio on top. Look, I don't usually remember specific dishes from trips, but this one keeps coming back to me at weird times. Waiting for the metro. Brushing my teeth. It's a problem.
Villa Sant'Andrea is down at Mazzarò Bay if beaches matter more to you than being up in town. Trade-off is you'll need taxis or strong calves.
Everyone tells you to see the Greek Theatre. Fine. Go see it. But—and I had to ask three different people before someone admitted this—the Romans rebuilt most of it. So it's Greek-ish. Roman-ish. Nobody local cares which.
Timing matters more than history lessons anyway. Buses full of cruise passengers clear out after 4 PM. Then it's quieter. You can actually stand there with the old stones and Etna puffing away behind them without someone's selfie stick in your peripheral vision.
Wagner came through in 1882. Wrote something about the columns and the sky looking like a dream. I read it before my trip. Standing there, I got it. Also: zero shade. The sun will cook you. Hat. Sunscreen. Tickets online so you skip the line.
Isola Bella is the tiny island everyone photographs—connected to shore by a sandbar, nature reserve, decent snorkeling. The problem is that every beach club in town knows about it too. Either get there before 9 AM or accept that you'll be fighting for space.
Corso Umberto is the main pedestrian street. Ceramic shops, linen stores charging €300 for a shirt, the usual. Touristy? Obviously. But around 6 PM it transforms into something actually pleasant—everyone comes out for the evening walk, the light gets soft, you end up at Piazza IX Aprile with a spritz watching the sun drop. It works.
Okay, besides Principe Cerami. There's La Capinera further along the coast—Pietro D'Agostino's place, also has a star. More relaxed vibe. Order the seafood tagliolini—they call it "cacao meravigliao", red prawns with mozzarella foam. I wrote "this shouldn't work but it does" in my notes, which doesn't really explain anything, but I stand by it.
Cheaper option: Trattoria da Nino on Via Luigi Pirandello. Family named Nicita, been running it three generations. Pasta alla Norma is the move—eggplant, tomato, ricotta salata. I've probably eaten this dish forty times across Sicily. Theirs is the one I think about.
Mount Etna is impossible to ignore when it's smoking at you every morning. UNESCO World Heritage, tallest active volcano in Europe, the whole deal. I did the helicopter tour because a friend insisted. Absurdly expensive. Would do it again tomorrow.
There's a village called Castelmola perched above Taormina. Winding road up, park wherever, walk around. You'll end up at Bar Turrisi eventually—everyone does. Open since 1947. They pour almond wine into little ceramic cups. The walls are covered in... well, they're phallic. Very phallic. "Fertility symbols" is the official line. I just drank my wine and tried not to make eye contact with anything.
Alcantara Gorges are maybe 20 minutes away. River carved through ancient lava, left behind these weird hexagonal basalt columns and pools you can wade into. Water is freezing even in summer—volcanic springs—but on a hot August day that's the point. For those planning a longer stay, I've found that a comprehensive Taormina guide reveals the beaches, hidden corners, and local secrets that day-trippers simply miss.
Skip drinking wine in Taormina proper. Prices are tourist-adjusted. Instead: drive north, maybe an hour, into the actual Etna vineyards. Tenuta delle Terre Nere does tastings if you email ahead (visite@tenutaterrenere.com). Passopisciaro is another option. The grape variety is Nerello Mascalese. I'm not going to pretend I can describe wine like a professional—it tasted like rocks and smoke and I kept refilling my glass.
Catania has the airport—Fontanarossa, about 50 km from Taormina. Interbus runs a route, costs around €10. Or just have your hotel arrange a car. The road corkscrews through hills and you'll be jet-lagged and carsick by the end if you're not careful.
Best months: late April and May, or September into October. July and August turn the town into a sweaty, crowded mess. Locals disappear to their own beach spots. I went in late September. Perfect.
One more thing: bring actual shoes. Cobblestones plus hills plus sandals equals blisters. And pack one decent outfit for dinner. Taormina's not formal, but people make an effort.
The Greeks showed up. Then Romans. Then Arabs, Normans, rich Europeans doing Grand Tours. Now it's us—Instagram, luxury magazines, whatever this article becomes. Taormina has outlasted every wave of visitors and doesn't seem concerned about the next one.
That's probably what I like about it. It knows what it's got. Doesn't oversell. For more on Sicily's hidden gems beyond the usual tourist trail, Sicilian Magpie covers everything from medieval hilltop villages to volcanic wine country.
You'll fall for it anyway. I showed up cynical and left planning my next trip. The place has been running this con for three thousand years. It's good at it.
