"As we slowly circled Mount Etna on the descent into Catania, the dry, late-summer landscape gave us a preview of Sicily's rhythm," Issy Croker tells SUITCASE. The London-based photographer had arrived on the Italian island in August – summer's peak – when temperatures average out at 35ºC most days and life on the island slows to accommodate the torpefying heat. She was set to road-trip down the island’s southeastern coast, soaking up the saltwater-infused lifestyle of a Sicilian summer.
Clockwise from top left: Caltagirone rooftops, golden hour in Avola, Cefalù and Marzamemi
After downing an espresso in the capital, Catania – “a mix of grand baroque facades with raw street art; a reminder that the island doesn’t stand still in its history” – Croker jumped into a car to head down the coast towards Avola and Noto, leaving the smouldering, statuesque silhouette of Etna in the rearview mirror.
After downing an espresso in the capital, Catania – “a mix of grand baroque facades with raw street art; a reminder that the island doesn’t stand still in its history” – Croker jumped into a car to head down the coast towards Avola and Noto, leaving the smouldering, statuesque silhouette of Etna in the rearview mirror.
Cefalù town centre
“The drive was slow and winding, often along roads barely wide enough for two cars,” she tells SUITCASE. “The countryside was lined with cacti heavy with prickly pears – an unexpected joy, and perfectly at home in the heat.”
Sicilians know how to deal with this weather. The sea becomes their lodestar in the hotter months: kids scramble on coastal rocks, flinging themselves into the water; walnut-tan limbs are splayed across sorbet-coloured towels on pebble beaches as late afternoons creep into hazy, sun-drugged evenings; and, at the hottest points of the day, a hush falls on the streets, as locals retreat indoors, behind thick, cooling stone walls. A typical island breakfast? Granita con brioche – an invitation to slow down and linger, as you tear off chunks of soft, fluffy brioche tuppo and use them to scoop up sweet crushed ice.
“The drive was slow and winding, often along roads barely wide enough for two cars,” she tells SUITCASE. “The countryside was lined with cacti heavy with prickly pears – an unexpected joy, and perfectly at home in the heat.”
Sicilians know how to deal with this weather. The sea becomes their lodestar in the hotter months: kids scramble on coastal rocks, flinging themselves into the water; walnut-tan limbs are splayed across sorbet-coloured towels on pebble beaches as late afternoons creep into hazy, sun-drugged evenings; and, at the hottest points of the day, a hush falls on the streets, as locals retreat indoors, behind thick, cooling stone walls. A typical island breakfast? Granita con brioche – an invitation to slow down and linger, as you tear off chunks of soft, fluffy brioche tuppo and use them to scoop up sweet crushed ice.
Swimmers in Cefalù
Travelling by car meant Croker saw the island in layers. As the miles slid by, rocky coves and glittering waters were revealed, alongside undulating hills broiled to a burnished caramel hue by the burning sun, and golden-honey-hued towns.
“Meals were never planned far ahead,” Croker says, “but chanced on along the way. In Noto, a plate of pasta alla norma scratched the exact craving that had been building since we started thinking about this trip.” Noto’s yellow limestone streets – part of a Unesco heritage site, alongside a number of neighbouring towns – glinted in peachy sunsets.
Travelling by car meant Croker saw the island in layers. As the miles slid by, rocky coves and glittering waters were revealed, alongside undulating hills broiled to a burnished caramel hue by the burning sun, and golden-honey-hued towns.
“Meals were never planned far ahead,” Croker says, “but chanced on along the way. In Noto, a plate of pasta alla norma scratched the exact craving that had been building since we started thinking about this trip.” Noto’s yellow limestone streets – part of a Unesco heritage site, alongside a number of neighbouring towns – glinted in peachy sunsets.
Clockwise from top left: spice mixes at a local market in Syracuse, the road to Grotte, balconies in Cefalù, and a fishmonger in a Syracuse market
“The rhythm of the road was broken up with stops in villages where cafés and delis offered arancini and gelato in endless local variations,” Croker continues. “Each town seemed to cling to its hillside – each with its own identity – from Caltagirone, with its ceramics, to Grotte, with its ornate cathedral.”
“The rhythm of the road was broken up with stops in villages where cafés and delis offered arancini and gelato in endless local variations,” Croker continues. “Each town seemed to cling to its hillside – each with its own identity – from Caltagirone, with its ceramics, to Grotte, with its ornate cathedral.”
A side street in Cefalù
Along the way, the photographer found that the road trip became shaped by what she discovered: a pit stop on an empty, curving road that flowed into craggy hills; a pause beside a spice stall in Syracuse market, its colours and smells a siren song.
“Driving across the island this way wasn’t about covering ground quickly,” she says. “It was about letting the road dictate how and when to pause.”
Along the way, the photographer found that the road trip became shaped by what she discovered: a pit stop on an empty, curving road that flowed into craggy hills; a pause beside a spice stall in Syracuse market, its colours and smells a siren song.
“Driving across the island this way wasn’t about covering ground quickly,” she says. “It was about letting the road dictate how and when to pause.”
The Lowdown
