Soothed by Sicily's sensuous charm
From the Daily Mail
Mid-afternoon in Sicily. The sun beats down; the only sound is of whirring cicadas. The tiny station of Enna is deserted for the siesta. In the bar a stubbled barman pours espresso, and a three-legged dog hops across to make my acquaintance.
The suspicion that someone from the Sicilian equivalent of Central Casting has made arrangements for my reception grows with the arrival of the local taxi driver, a Mafioso type in wraparound sunglasses. We race up the hill and pull up in Enna's town square with a squeal of brakes.
'Ecco!' grunts the driver. We're here. Now that's the way to arrive in small-town Italy.
Taking a train around Sicily is the best way to appreciate the charm, and people, of this ancient, quirky island - and the beach is never too far away. What's more, train travel won't send your blood pressure soaring, unlike driving. In a taxi heading to Palermo's Stazione Centrale, I'd lurched and swerved through the gridlocked traffic as my driver's temperature rose faster than that of the capital's sweltering streets.
The Sicilians have an expression for this situation: 'Che camurria!' which translates as 'I can't stand it! Let's get moving!' I couldn't stand it, either.
The 12.05 diretto to Enna was waiting at the platform, a modern diesel train with bright yellow destination plates on each carriage. We left on time, running along Sicily's sparkling north coast before climbing inland through hills carpeted with wild flowers.
My travelling companions were a group of schoolchildren, some peasant women dressed all in black, two priests and a moustachioed gentleman in a battered trilby. He offered me a drink of wine from his bottle, bowed, and disappeared at the next station, doffing his hat. I'd been on the Sicilian rails less than an hour and already I felt among friends.
Travel guide: Sicily