They knew they wanted Sicily.
Palermo, maybe. Catania. The usual names that show up when you start Googling "where to stay in Sicily."
But when I asked why—why those cities, what drew them there—they paused.
"We just… heard they were beautiful?"
So here's what I did.
I asked them what they actually wanted to experience, and they wanted to feel.
Not see. Not check off.
They wanted slow. Relaxed. Food-focused. Culturally immersive. A balance between incredible experiences and days where they could just…be.
They wanted the coast. But not the chaos.
They wanted history. But not the crowds.
They wanted to feel like they were living in Sicily, not just visiting it.
So I didn't just pick the cities they'd Googled.
I designed three home bases—each one chosen for a specific reason: Taormina, Noto, and Palermo.
Yes, Palermo made the list. But not because they'd heard of it. Because it was right for them.
Let me show you why.
Taormina is where they'll start.
Perched on a cliff above the Ionian Sea, with views of Mount Etna in the distance. It's dramatic. It's coastal. And yes, it gets tourists—but if you stay there, if you wake up early and walk the streets before the day-trippers arrive, you get the version of Taormina that still feels like a secret.
They'll stay in a boutique hotel with sea views and a cable car down to the beach. They'll do a jeep ride up Mount Etna—not the crowded tourist version, but a private guide who'll take them to a family winery at 1,100 meters above sea level. One of the highest vineyards in Europe. The kind of place where the view makes you forget to breathe.
They'll take a day trip to Catania for a sensorial food walk—street food, markets, the smells and sounds of a city that's still deeply, unapologetically Sicilian. Yes, Catania. But as a day trip, not a home base. Because that's how it works best.
And then they'll slow down.
Noto is where they'll exhale.
The baroque capital of Sicily. Honey-colored stone. Wide piazzas. Streets that glow gold in the late afternoon light.
Their home base is an eco-resort just outside town—surrounded by olive groves, citrus trees, and Mediterranean gardens. Four suites. Private plunge pools. The kind of place where you wake up to silence and the smell of rosemary.
They'll take a sailboat out from Ortigia—just the two of them, a captain, and the turquoise water of the Plemmirio Nature Reserve. Lunch on board. Swimming in hidden coves. The kind of day you didn't know you needed until you're living it.
They'll walk through Noto with a guide who knows the stories behind the stone. They'll stop at Caffè Sicilia—the pastry shop that's been run by the same family for generations.
And they'll have days with nothing planned. Beach days. Vendicari Nature Reserve. The kind of slow that feels like a luxury because it is.
Palermo is where they'll finish.
Because Palermo is the crescendo. The chaos. The street food and the markets and the layers of history stacked on top of each other.
They'll wake up in a restored palazzo in the heart of the city—the kind of place where the family still lives on the third floor, where breakfast is made fresh every morning, where you feel like a guest, not a customer.
They'll do an evening food walk through the historic center—arancini, panelle, cannoli, wine. They'll meet the chefs behind each dish. They'll taste Palermo, not just see it.
And then—this is my favorite part—they'll take a cooking class with the Duchess.
Not a "cooking class." A morning in a 17th-century palazzo with Nicoletta Lanza Tomasi, the last resident of the home where Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa wrote The Leopard. They'll shop the market with her. Pick herbs from her garden. Cook in her kitchen. Eat in her dining room.
It's not something most people even know exists.
But I do. And when you work with me, you get access to it.
This is what I mean when I say I design trips around your travel style.
Not around a template. Not around "the top 10 things to do in Sicily."
Around what you actually want to feel.
Taormina for the drama and the coast. Noto for the slow and the soul. Palermo for the crescendo and the culture.
Three home bases. Twelve days. A rhythm that lets you breathe.
If you know you want Italy—or Sicily, or Tuscany, or Puglia—but you don't know where exactly, or how to pace it…
I'd love to help.
Let's plan your trip.
Alla prossima (until next time),
P.S. — If you're thinking about Italy this year, let's start the conversation now—before the best agriturismi, masserie, and private experiences are gone. (The Duchess only takes a handful of guests each season.).