By Amy Pigeon
When I first visited Sicily in May, I fell hard for the island’s intoxicating mix of history, beauty, and overwhelming sense of charm. There’s a reason why Sicilians proudly state “I am Sicilian”, specifying their native region and not Italy alone. In fact, the distinct cultural difference born from an equally distinct history, sense of autonomy, pride, economic and social factors, and geographical isolation likely warrant writing a piece solely dedicated to Sicilian pride. And to be clear, it is not to dismiss their Italian nationality, but rather celebrate their unique regional identity within the mosaic of Italia… but I digress.
A phoenix city, forged in fire and ash sitting in the shadow of Europe’s most active volcano, Catania is forever at the mercy of its powerful creator, yet stands defiantly resilient. Its streets tell stories of fear and reverence—every stone stands as both a monument to survival and a prayer to Etna. Alive with fire and fury, her legacy of ash paints the walls and streets…
I flew into Catania for my inaugural voyage to the island of Sicilia, however, I stayed in Siracusa, spending most of my time wandering the enchanting streets of Ortygia, before heading to Sicilia’s theatre of beauty—Taormina. But Catania—the gritty, vibrant city crouched at the foot of Mount Etna—awaited my adventures, a name on the map promising something raw and authentic that I had not quite experienced yet in Italy. I left Sicily knowing I had to return, not just to bask in its sunshine, but to unlock the secrets of the city that seemed worlds away from the polished elegance of Ortygia and the dreamscape that is Taormina.
Fast forward a few months, and there I was, back in Sicily, traveling solo once again. I set aside 72 hours to explore Catania, but this compact city is perfect for a single, whirlwind day. With careful planning, a lot of stamina, and some well-timed breaks for pasta and gelato, you can condense all its scrappy resilience, charm, and chaos into 24 adventurous hours.
Where to stay
Catania is unlike the other monumental Italian cities I’ve visited. Where Rome and Milan are painted dreams from the minds of Michelangelo and da Vinci, and Taormina is a real-life postcard, Catania wears its rough edges with pride. A phoenix city, forged in fire and ash sitting in the shadow of Europe’s most active volcano, Catania is forever at the mercy of its powerful creator, yet stands defiantly resilient. Its streets tell stories of fear and reverence—every stone stands as both a monument to survival and a prayer to Etna. Alive with fire and fury, her legacy of ash paints the walls and streets in shades of muted gray, reminding us all that we are mere guests on her earth.
The air smells of salt and stone. Graffiti adorns nearly every wall, and many buildings are weathered and dilapidated. But look closer, and you’ll find layers of history, art, and architecture that make the city undeniably captivating. It’s a place that demands your attention and rewards your curiosity—chaotic, yes, but also deeply alive. Maybe this is why I am attracted to these gritty cities—I see so much more of the true human condition within them, and perhaps it offers a window into myself.
The raw, unpolished pulse of Catania speaks to a certain kind of traveler—those who seek the poetry in clamor, the beauty in imperfection, the story in every corner. But as much as the city captivated me with its grit and soul, the call of the sea is always irresistible to me. Just north of the city, I found my sanctuary at the Grand Hotel Faraglioni in Aci Trezza—a place where the hypnotic rhythm of the waves offered a striking contrast to Catania’s frenetic energy. With balconies overlooking the legendary Faraglioni rocks and the promise of morning swims in crystal waters, this retreat was a perfect balance: a place to breathe and to reflect. While staying in Catania immerses you in its unapologetic spirit, Aci Trezza, with its gentle embrace of the Ionian Sea, provides an idyllic escape—a haven where the chaos softens and the soul finds its anchor—just a 20 minute drive from Catania centro.
Before diving into the day’s itinerary exploring Catania Centro, let me offer you a piece of wisdom earned the hard way: in Catania, taxis are like getting an Instagram photo at the Trevi Fountain—precious but elusive. Before you step into the bustle of the city, secure your lifeline. Ask your concierge for taxi contacts, or better yet, ask your driver who brought you into Catania Centro for their WhatsApp info. I learned this lesson the hard way, not only waiting 20 minutes for my pickup at the hotel, but at the end of the day, as I was wandering the graffiti-splattered streets of downtown Catania with a phone on the brink of death, desperately searching for a way back to Aci Trezza. An hour passed before a single, heaven-sent taxi driver appeared, rescuing me like a knight in a scratched and dented chariot. Learn from my mistakes, my friends—plan ahead.
With that, let’s dive into a day that captures the soul of Catania—a whirlwind journey through its history, culture, and flavours. It’s a day that begins with the magnificence of its Duomo and ends with the warmth of a stuffed “border”-mortadella pizza.
Andiamo!
Morning: the Duomo and fish market
Begin your day at Catania’s breathtaking centerpiece: Piazza del Duomo. Here, the city’s essence comes alive in the form of its cathedral, a Baroque marvel that commands reverence. The intricate stonework, weathered by time yet standing defiantly, leaves you spellbound. Photos have not managed to capture the magic of the dancing sunlight on its façade or the whispers of centuries past that echo through its arches—creating breathtaking moments with beauty you can only comprehend by seeing the Duomo with your own eyes.
Next, just steps from the Duomo, is the fish market. A sensory explosion—a bedlam of voices and the mingling aromas of the sea and sizzling street food. Though I passed on entering (fish before gracing my presence on a plate is not as appealing to me), the energy emanating from the market was palpable, and later that day I would not deny having had regrets for not going—because even if market fish is not my thing, culture, certainly is.
Afternoon: umbrella alley, granite, and more churches
Nearby, walk through the kaleidoscope of colour on Via Pardo, where a vibrant alley is strung with a canopy of playful umbrellas. Stop at one of the many charming spots for a little pranzo, and order pasta alla Norma—a dish born in this very city and named in homage to Vincenzo Bellini’s opera, Norma. Much like the masterpiece it honours, this iconic Sicilian creation is a harmony of flavours that captures the spirit of the island. Tender slices of eggplant, slow-simmered tomato sauce, and a generous grating of ricotta salata come together in a composition that feels both rustic and refined. Each bite is a taste of Catania’s history, its pride, and its enduring love for tradition—a meal so soul-stirring, you may find yourself tempted to embrace the chef in heartfelt gratitude (if I had an euro for every time I wanted to hug an Italian on this trip)…
Belly full, but never too full for a little dolce, I walked over to Comis Ice Café and indulged in the often-overlooked, but my personal all-time favourite: la granita (limone e fragola, to be exact). The tang of vibrant lemons dances on your tongue, a burst of Sicilian sunshine cutting through the sweetness of ripe, red strawberries—a harmony of sharp and soft, like the island itself.
Comis Ice Café is a lovely spot offering the most comprehensive collection of frozen desserts I have ever seen, bordering the piazza that overlooks Teatro Bellini. As I enjoyed my summer-in-a-cup, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on a kind server reassuring tourists that ordering a cappuccino after 11 AM is not a punishable offense in Italy. Questionable; I would not believe him, although he surely meant well.
Now, with a belly far too full, I rolled myself down the street for a 10 minute walk to Via Crociferi, where the cobblestones carry you to one stunning church after another, each more beautiful than the one before. The Church of San Benedetto is a must-see, though its doors eluded me—twice. My bleeding heart. Once closed, and once during a mass where my summer dress felt a bit too bare to cross the threshold. After being asked to cover up in the Vatican and St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice, I had dared not enter the premises and risk showing disrespect to a place of such radiance and faith. Perhaps I could have entered, as I had at the Cathedral of Saint Agatha (the Catania Duomo mentioned earlier) when I noticed many others entering before me wearing similar clothing, but I find myself over-indexing on embarrassment when it comes to religious faux pas and did not see anyone else paving my way for confidence at the church of San Benedetto—and even worse, during a mass. Let this be a lesson (if I have not learned enough of these for you, already): always carry a scarf in Italy, where beauty often requires reverence, and please, for the love of pasta, always check the operating hours of the sites you wish to visit.
Evening: ancient ruins and savoury bites
As the afternoon fades, make your way another 10-minute walk over to Teatro Greco, an ancient Roman amphitheater that whispers tales of theatrical performances and the rhythms of ancient life. Built in the 2nd century AD atop older Greek foundations, it once hosted thousands of spectators who gathered to witness the drama of Roman theatre. Now, the crumbling stone steps and arched corridors echo with a quiet dignity, as history sprawls under the watchful eyes of stray cats. These feline aristocrats, lounging in the sun-dappled ruins, seem to guard the secrets of the past, their indifferent stares adding an oddly whimsical charm to the enduring grandeur of the site.
Before the sun begins to set, venture 20 minutes north by foot to Giardini Bellini, a tranquil oasis in the heart of Catania. As one of the city’s oldest and most beloved parks, its pathways wind through manicured gardens, ancient trees, and fountains that shimmer the reflections of the last glimmers of daylight. Originally a private estate, it was transformed into a public park in the 19th century, becoming a retreat for those seeking calm amid the city’s noise.
At this point with plenty of steps under your belt, you may be ready for, yet another, carb-up and/or aperitivo. This is your chance to have pre-dinner arancino, Sicilia’s famous street dish. These golden, crispy orbs larger than the size of your fist, filled with ragù, mozzarella, and peas, mirror Sicily’s essence—an unassuming exterior hiding a core of warmth, passion, flavour, and love. Don’t confuse them with ‘arancina’—misgendering your arancini in Catania is considered a sin (where it is known for the feminine form in the Western parts of Sicily).
Conveniently, right across from Giardini Bellini are two of Catania’s rumoured best spots for arancini. Pasticceria Savia, where I opted to stop, appeared to be the more popular choice to its direct neighbour, Pasticceria Spinella, both of which are known to compete for the title of best arancini.
The raw, unpolished pulse of Catania speaks to a certain kind of traveler—those who seek the poetry in clamor, the beauty in imperfection, the story in every corner.
End your day with dinner on Via Santa Filomena, a street alive with the hum of Catanese nightlife. Neon lights float atop the pedestrian street with cozy outdoor tables creating an atmosphere that feels intimate yet absolutely bouncing with energy, all at the same time. I enjoyed my last meal on this exciting leg of journey at Il Sale —an establishment that felt like it leaned a little higher on the brow scale, but radiated the same warmth and kindness you’d hope to find for meaningful dining experience your last night in a city. A simply lovely older gentleman working there kindly lent me his arm as we hoisted myself up and wiggled me into an awkwardly high and narrow seated area that artfully (or dangerously, tom-aye-to, tom-ah-to, to Italians) danced the ledge of a curb. As I sipped on my umpteenth Hugo Spritz of the trip and indulge in my mortadella pizza with a stuffed ‘border’ of pistacchio crema, the city’s energy softened into something more introspective with me, myself, and I.
Reflections on Catania
Catania is not a city of polished facades or postcard perfection, but that is precisely what makes it unforgettable. It is a city of contradictions—chaos and charm, grit and grace—all held together by the ever-watchful gaze of Mount Etna. Here, the streets breathe with life, their ash-dusted walls telling stories of survival, resilience, and an unapologetic vibrance that refuses to fade.
Catania revealed its soul to me: unrefined, authentic, and deeply human. It is a place where you are humbled into remembering your place on this Earth, and where every encounter feels like a reminder that beauty often lies in imperfection.
I cannot wait to explore my next perfectly-imperfect city in Sicilia, and would love to hear your suggestions on which places similar to Catania’s vivacious and raw energy, I should explore for my upcoming Sicilian adventures this Spring.
Leave a comment below or share with me your suggestions in my inbox, at amy@veravitamagazine.com.
See you soon, my beloved Sicilia. – VV
