Sicily by car: An adventure in sunshine, speed and mild terror

There are many ways to experience Sicily.

You can take a coach tour, shuffling from one historic site to another behind a guide carrying a brightly coloured umbrella. You can take a train, which is a charming way of spending several hours wondering if you’re actually moving. Or you can do what any sensible person would do and hire a car.

This, however, is rather like deciding the best way to experience a lion enclosure is to dress yourself as a gazelle. Because driving in Sicily isn’t really driving. It’s more of a fascinating social experiment involving several million people who have collectively decided that road markings are merely decorative.

Peace of Mind

The first clue comes when you collect your hire car at the airport. The cheerful assistant hands over the keys and asks if you’d like additional insurance. At first, you think this is a sales pitch. Five minutes later, after witnessing three Fiats overtake each other simultaneously on a blind bend while a Vespa rider answers his phone and eats a sandwich, you realise insurance here isn’t just peace of mind – it’s essential. Take out full cover insurance, the alternative is bankruptcy!

Still, courage must prevail.

And Sicily does reward bravery. This island is one of Europe’s greatest road-trip destinations. It’s a place where ancient Greek temples, Norman cathedrals, volcanic mountains and sparkling beaches all somehow coexist beneath a relentless Mediterranean sun.

Your journey should begin in the magnificent city of Palermo. Palermo is loud.

Not loud in the sense that a busy city is loud. It’s loud in the sense that every vehicle appears to communicate exclusively through the horn. Need to indicate you’re turning? Horn. Need to greet a friend? Horn. Need to announce your continued existence? Horn. I think you get the picture. Yet, the city itself is a glorious riot of architecture, markets and controlled chaos. Wander through street markets, admire the faded grandeur of old palaces and sample enough arancini to make your cardiologist weep. Then point the car east towards Cefalù.

This beautiful seaside town looks like someone designed it specifically for postcards. Narrow medieval streets tumble down towards a golden beach, whilst a magnificent Norman cathedral dominates the skyline.

It’s the sort of place where you plan to stop for coffee and stay all afternoon, which happens a lot in Sicily. Schedules tend to be treated as mere suggestions.

A mythical concept

Continuing east brings you towards one of Sicily’s greatest stars. Mount Etna. Now, most holiday destinations try to attract tourists with beaches and sunshine. Sicily casually offers an active volcano which dominates the landscape like an enormous smouldering landlord, occasionally reminding everyone who’s really in charge. Driving around its slopes is spectacular. Vineyards cling to volcanic soil, villages perch precariously on hillsides, and the views stretch endlessly across the Mediterranean. The roads twist and climb through scenery so dramatic you’ll frequently forget to watch where you’re going. Try not to do this. Italian drivers have enough problems without tourists steering into ravines.

Nearby lies Taormina, arguably Sicily’s most glamorous town. Perched high above the sea, it offers stunning views, elegant piazzas and an ancient Greek theatre that remains one of the most beautiful performance venues on Earth. It’s also where you’ll discover that parking in Sicily is a mythical concept.

There are rumours that it exists.

People speak of spaces being found. Yet no one has ever witnessed such an event personally. If you do locate a parking space in Taormina, photograph it immediately because future generations may not believe you.

Further south lies the stunning baroque city of Noto. The entire place glows honey-gold in the afternoon sunlight. Every street seems lined with ornate churches and elegant palaces. It’s so beautiful that even hardened travellers begin speaking in hushed tones.

Though that may simply be exhaustion after navigating Sicilian roundabouts.

Now, some important driving advice. Firstly, understand that speed limits in Italy occupy a curious legal category that exists somewhere between regulation and folklore.

Locals appear aware of them but rarely feel bound by them. Secondly, indicators are optional. Not legally, of course. But culturally. Many Sicilians seem to regard signalling intentions as giving away valuable personal information. Thirdly, never assume ‘right of way’. Ever.

At junctions, roundabouts, crossroads and car parks, priority belongs to whoever appears most committed.

It’s rather like diplomacy during the Cold War. Hesitation is weakness, and confidence is everything.

And yet, somehow, it works. Remarkably few people appear angry.

Nobody spends their day shaking fists or screaming obscenities. Instead, traffic flows through a system based largely on eye contact, instinct and divine intervention.

An automotive jazz

The final must-see destination is Syracuse.

Once among the most powerful cities in the ancient Greek world, it’s packed with archaeological treasures. The island district of Ortigia is particularly magical, with its narrow streets, waterfront promenades and bustling piazzas. As evening falls and the golden stone glows beneath the setting sun, you’ll begin to understand Sicily’s greatest charm. It’s not really about the monuments, or the beaches or even the volcano. It’s about the atmosphere, the ambience. Sicily feels wonderfully alive. People gather in squares late into the evening. Families eat together. Conversations happen face-to-face rather than through phones. Life spills onto the streets.

And perhaps that’s why driving here eventually becomes so enjoyable.

At first, it feels chaotic.

Then you realise there’s a strange rhythm beneath the madness. A kind of automotive jazz. Nobody follows the sheet music exactly, yet somehow the orchestra keeps playing.

So, hire a car, take the coastal roads, get yourself hopelessly lost, stop in villages you’ve never even heard of, eat far too much pasta and watch magnificent sunsets over the Mediterranean. And when a tiny Fiat carrying six people, two dogs and what appears to be a washing machine overtakes you on a mountain road, simply smile. Because you’re in Sicily! And in Sicily, normal rules simply don’t apply. And thank goodness for that.

You see. You will probably leave this island filled with an emotional blend of admiration, bewilderment and pure joy despite having experienced several brushes with mild panic. But that’s just the path of the course in Sicily.