Date: November 21
Location: Messina and Forza d’Agrò
Weather: Partly Sunny, 64 degrees
After a long night of feeling like I was only skimming the surface of sleep – never quite sinking into the deep end – I finally pulled myself out of bed at 8:30am. There is nothing worse than tossing and turning when your body is begging for rest but your brain is wide awake. This has definitely been the longest it’s ever taken me to adjust to a time zone change. I’m sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the white-chocolate macadamia nut bar I devoured while watching Landman right before bed. It was as if I knew I was sabotaging my night of sleep on purpose, but the siren call of Swiss white chocolate had me in its grip.
We’d all agreed to be ready by 10am because we had a big day planned. Carlotta and Marta had been up early, preparing a beautiful breakfast of bacon and avocado toast with perfectly poached eggs. They’ve been spoiling us on every level; honestly, who needs fancy restaurant meals when you have two imaginative Italian cooks creating magic in the kitchen? It feels like we’re living the life of true locals.
After breakfast, we walked down to the parking garage and headed for Messina. Carlotta and Marta are a flawless front-seat duo – one handling tickets, one handling Google Maps, both ready with change, both anticipating every step before it comes. From the back seat, we feel utterly pampered, watching this smooth, almost choreographed teamwork.
The drive to Messina is about an hour. Carlotta pulled off the main highway early to take a more scenic coastal route. Only… there was no scenery. Just gridlocked traffic on the outskirts of an industrial port city. And the driving? Absolutely chaotic. I’ve driven in Florence, Rome, and other major Italian cities – Madonna, this one takes the cake. And weaving fearlessly through the madness were grannies on scooters, in sandals, with little shoulder purses and not a helmet in sight. One particular granny kept zipping ahead and beating us to intersections. We were half-convinced we’d eventually pull up and find her flattened. Thankfully, she survived the day unscathed – and probably faster than all of us.
Messina itself is a jumble of architecture – rebuilt after the war with no real city plan – and that means: no parking. We circled for 45 minutes to an hour before finally landing in a parking garage. Then Carlotta shot up four levels of the tightest, windiest ramp I’ve ever seen. We were sure the car would scrape the walls. Carla joked that we could have filed our nails – or scraped the callouses off our feet – just by sticking our hands or heels out the window. We laughed nonstop until the car miraculously landed in an open space.
We wandered the town, visited the main church (a replica of the one in Siena), and explored the underground crypt. By then we were ready for lunch, so we made our way to the most highly recommended arancini shop in Sicily – a true hole-in-the-wall spot bustling with locals. Four people could easily have a full meal for around 10 euros total. With our drinks, desserts, and coffee, the total came to about 36 euros, which Marta treated us to (again). Those two somehow always beat us to the bill. I’m going to have to get clever and pre-pay somewhere. But it’s our last full day – time is running out.
After lunch we headed toward Forza d’Agrò – the famous filming location used for several scenes in The Godfather trilogy. It’s high atop a mountain, and as we drove upward, we heard Carlotta jokingly muttering, “Why do I hate myself so much?” She hates driving steep mountain roads. Meanwhile, Carla and I were thinking it felt like a gentle cool-down compared to the boss-level chaos of Messina.
When we reached the top – Madonna! The town was a feast for the eyes. The views stretched across the entire Sicilian coastline. The sun was setting, and white and pink clouds floated above the landscape like brushstrokes. Carla and I were in awe – this little medieval town is one of the most charming villages I’ve ever visited in Italy. The location scouts for The Godfather must have taken one look and said, “We’re done. This is it.”
We ended our visit in the quiet main square, which was nearly empty now that the summer crowds had cleared out. We enjoyed Aperol Spritzes, Camparis, and aperitivo in the middle of the courtyard – a perfect, cinematic finale to an unforgettable last day with Marta and Carlotta.
