CASTIGLIONE DI SICILIA
I have to admit that the whole of Italy has grown dear to my heart. I've visited it many times and never left disappointed. Sicily is a chapter all of its own for me. As different as it is from the rest of the country, so differently did it etch itself into my mind. Today I want to look back on one little town that is probably the first thing to come to mind when someone says Sicily. I don't even really know why, but I felt such a strong atmosphere here, and Castiglione di Sicilia definitely got under my skin.
I arrived here entirely by chance. My destination was the active volcano Etna, which over the past few days had kept appearing in the distance as I drove through various little towns, still fairly far from it yet within sight. But now I really was close by; Etna rose magically above the landscape and let out little clouds of smoke, leaving no doubt that it had not yet had its last word.
Even the drive into town was very photogenic. I guarantee that around every bend you'll feel the urge to stop and photograph the views opening up across the countryside, or the winding road that threads through the land like a grey snake. Castiglione di Sicilia is a beautiful little town that has stood here for hundreds of years. This place was settled by the Greeks as early as 400 BC. It was later home to the Romans, who built their bridges here, and the Arabs, who contributed irrigation systems.
At first glance I was struck by how many churches there are in this small town. Probably the best known are the Basilica Madonna della Catena from 1655 and the Church of Sant'Antonio Abate, built in the 17th century. Around 3,100 people live here today, but from the place itself you get the feeling of a town built for far more people who are simply no longer here. The large townhouses are often empty, dilapidated and abandoned. In the little square, just a few old men sit over their coffee, gazing toward the volcano. And indeed it's true: at the start of the twentieth century more than 10,000 people lived here.
Because of this, you feel a little as if you're in a ghost town. Every so often a bell rings out from one of the churches while you wander the stone lanes past empty houses, imagining the bustle that must once have filled them. In the distance, Etna lends the whole scene an added dimension and majesty. Above the town there's a small lookout. It's a kind of park full of eucalyptus trees, with a lovely view over the town. I ran up here before sunrise to film some time-lapse shots of Etna. I was alone, gazing out over the landscape, waiting for the sun to rise, and then I lingered a while longer, savouring the peace of the place and reading my book.
After the morning's filming I headed down to the square to have coffee and a bite of breakfast with the locals, to sit a while longer and drink in the view of Etna. To listen to Italian and try to etch this place as deeply as I could into my memory. Then I had to pack up and finally set off straight for Etna. But believe me, I didn't want to leave, because this was one of the most striking places I visited in Sicily. Perhaps you won't agree with me, because the local atmosphere may not touch you at all, but it certainly got under my skin.
Tip 1: Find accommodation in the upper part of town with a view over the surroundings. You'll be close to the park above town and, above all, you won't be able to tear yourself away from the window.
Tip 2: First thing in the morning, head up to the park above town to savour Etna as it emerges from the night and the morning cloud.
Tip 3: Definitely don't miss sitting on the upper square in the company of old Italian men and excellent coffee.
Gear: Some time has passed since my visit, and back then I only had a Sony NEX-3 with me. At the time it was a decent camera with an APS-C sensor, but by today's standards it's a toy. So definitely bring a camera that can handle time-lapse video, and a proper telephoto lens so you can watch and photograph Etna's summit and the clouds racing around it, or the smoke rising from one of the craters.