I force myself to down a truly repulsive Gatwick airport coffee knowing that for the next six days I’ll be treated to the best of the best. The destination is Catania, where my father grew up, and we’re taking this pilgrimage to explore the east coast of Sicily.

As we approach the island, I know I’m in for a treat. The glorious weather gives a sublime view, practically into the mouth of the ever-volatile Mount Etna.

My memories of Palermo return as soon as we hit the roads, with the sounds of horns blasting, the scooters zipping in and out of traffic and the carefree attitude of pedestrians walking across the busy roads as if it were a catwalk.

The only difference with Palermo is the road, cut out of black, solidified lava, making a great contrast against the old building architecture.

It’s a great hotel but we head off immediately for food, finding a famous little bar with stereotypical Italian service. The arancino goes down well whilst we meander around the streets of central Catania. I’m filled with stories of what things used to be like in the 50s, and it’s like having my own personal guide, boiling with enthusiasm and reliving his youth with me; the only thing is that the guide is my father!

Along the coast, we visit two of the Aci: Aci Castello and Acitrezza. The old photos of Aci Castello make it look like a classic painting; nowadays it’s full of buildings and busy roads. The castle itself doesn’t lose its appeal. The views down the coast are great and I see the old men sitting around and watching the world go by.

Acitrezza, where my father was born, is even better. The town itself is typically Sicilian, but the ‘beach’ is the difference. It’s full of solid lava, including some enormous boulders that look entirely out of place, prodding out of the sea. Legend says that Cyclops threw these enormous rocks at Odysseus, but this is almost more believable than the truth: They were actually launched (20km across Sicily) in one of Etna’s violent eruptions!

I can’t help but feel like I’m finally on holiday: The sun is strong and on the promenade the local teenage couples show (a little too much) affection for each other, as tanned, camp-looking men roller-skate around them. It’s no-holds-barred Italy at its best.

Dinner is a reunion with a distant relative who my father hasn’t seen in half a century. I ask for food that isn’t easily found in London and I’m treated to some Sicilian antipastos followed by squid ink pasta. We then stroll around the Piazza del Teatro, which seems to be the local hangout for all the beautiful people; it’s like being backstage at a fashion show!

01 May 2009 – Day 2 – Catania, Mount Etna

After a poor night’s sleep (even my earplugs can’t muffle the sound of my father’s snoring), I’m heading towards another beast: Mount Etna. Like my father, it too rumbles through the night (no doubt much more quietly) at over 3,300m.

We drive north through the suburbs of Catania, spoiled by a surplus number of buildings and cars everywhere trying to escape the city for the 1st May national holiday. The Highway Code should be re-written for Sicilians: It seems there’s a well-followed, controlled chaos that rules the land, even if it does entirely defy logic. However, since in Italy you give way to those joining on the right, the system falls to pieces and confusion prevails when you get to a roundabout; Sicilians are baffled and it reverts back to ‘first come, first served’!

Mount Etna (or Muncibeddu/Mongibello in Sicilian/Italian) looms over Catania quite beautifully. It’s as if the mountain is totally lost and just settled itself next to a coastline city. It makes for a fantastic landscape and it’s almost confusing having left the city and suddenly being at 1,000m and heading towards the snowy peaks. The higher we climb, the more the landscape changes; from concrete buildings, to green pastures and then finally to black rock, as all signs of life disappear under the layers of lava built up over centuries of eruptions.

The contrast of snow and black lava is picturesque in itself, but the mix of cloud and steam filter the strong sunshine and create a unique environment, making it seem like a totally foreign planet.

The funivia takes us high above the clouds and a jeep completes the climb to 2,920m. The sun is still strong but the bitterly cold wind half makes me forget I’m a short distance away from a volcano crater. I take a few photos and my hands are totally numb through cold. Fortunately, Mother Nature comes in handy when you’re on a volcano and all you have to do to warm up is lie down on the ground!

We opt for the hour walk back to the funivia and after I steal a couple of rocks of lava, we quickly return to Catania as another of my father’s long-lost friends is waiting to join us for dinner.

02 May 2009 – Day 3 – Catania, Siracusa

The first stop before Siracusa is to visit my grandfather’s grave in Catania’s main cemetery. It was nearly 20 years ago when I last stood in front of his grave and even though I never met him (he died in 1971) it still has a profound effect on me. I was named after him and to see my name written on a gravestone is still as moving as it was when I saw it as a 10-year-old. The cemetery itself is beautiful, or it would be if they banned cars and motorbikes. You could really spend hours lost in the maze of graves, fantastically built. Some are huge (nearly as big as my home!) and contain the remains of entire families. Unfortunately the noise of the traffic speeding by is ridiculous, and destroys any sense of peacefulness.

We take a wrong turn and end up on a quiet country road near Lentini. As we search for the road bearing south, we drive along one stretch of road which is dotted with African women standing by the side of the road, each about 200m from the last, as if waiting for the bus to Siracusa. It seems they have all been waiting a while for the bus and have got a little hot in the Sicilian sun; they’re all practically stripped down to the underwear and some even bend over their chairs, unable to stand up straight any longer. However, the non-existent bus doesn’t lower their spirits; some even smile and wave as we drive by…

Siracusa is impressive and I’m pleasantly surprised that although it’s more Greek ruins (that I’ve previously seen in Agrigento), it’s totally different and full of history. Unfortunately, the Teatro Greco is being set up for a forthcoming play, which means that the beautiful architecture is covered with modern seating and means a panoramic photo is out of the question. They have “ruined” the ruins!

The Orecchio di Dionisio is an enormous cave around the corner from the amphitheatre. It’s hugely impressive both visually and acoustically, and its shape, similar to an ear, makes for some fantastic echoes. Supposedly, Dionisio left his prisoners in the cave, so he could listen to their secrets from afar! We’re treated to something else, as we’re lucky enough to enter at a time when a Dutch opera singer starts singing! The strong sunshine disappears around the corners of the cave, which also allows me to try some unusual “jumping” photos.

We drive across the bridge to the island of Ortigia, which is the touristy part of Siracusa. That said, it’s relatively quiet, especially along the backstreets surrounding the Piazza del Duomo. At the most southern point of the island is the Castel Maniace. As a military base, it’s normally closed to tourists, but following a recent G8 summit, they have opened it specially. I wish they hadn’t! I’m left rather unimpressed and return to the narrow streets which seem to have a million stories to tell.

We end the day with dinner with more distant relatives in Nicolosi, a relatively quiet town between Etna and Catania.

03 May 2009 – Day 4 – Catania, Forza d’Agrò, Gole di Alcantara

Today was always the odd number: It’s a six day trip and it would mean travelling quite far from Catania to see another “major” site. So it’s lucky my father was born here, as we head north and explore some of the lesser well known sites, which is great as the lack of tourists means it’s like being a fly on the wall to Sicilian life.

We go to Forza d’Agrò, following the river from the coastline, which takes us through some small villages. There are markets on the streets and it’s the first glimpse of what life may have been like for my father back in the 1950s. Shockingly, however small the villages, they all seem to have fantastic sporting facilities. One village has a high quality football field surrounded by a running track and even has stands for the crowd! It does make you wonder where the money came from to pay for it..!

I paddle across part of the river to get some photos and further upstream, when we arrive at Basilica SS Pietro & Paolo, my father starts speaking with a local and discovers that he actually knew my uncle!

Forza d’Agrò is a pleasant little town high into the mountains and despite the mass of construction, it still retains its village feel at the peak, upon which the (unfortunately closed) castle sits. Back at the coast, views from Capo S’Alessio are splendid, along the coast and across the sea to Italy.

There’s still time to kill, so we search for the Gole Alcantara, which (bizarrely) isn’t even in my guide book: It’s fantastic; a winding series of rapids, carving away at the unique rock formations which makes for some great photos. You can even wade up the rapids, but following a lot of rain in April, the current is too strong for that today.

04 May 2009 – Day 5 – Catania, Taormina, Castelmola, Mazzarò, Isola Bella

Taormina is one of Sicily’s most popular destinations. I had been looking forward to today and unfortunately it has left a rather bitter taste in my mouth, and that wasn’t because of the horrible arancino that I was served in one of the central piazzas.

It’s absolutely packed full of tourists and I can’t bear to imagine how busy it is in the summer months. This I could accept, if it wasn’t for the fact that all activity revolves around commerce and taking advantage of all the tourists. It means that this lovely mountaintop town has been transformed into nothing less than an outdoor shopping mall.

The Teatro Greco is slightly better. However, even though I don’t mind the fact that they still use the theatre for shows (after all, its position with dramatic views of Mount Etna in the horizon is absolutely awesome), but they replace the broken, ancient seats with wooden and metallic benches. It makes absolutely no sense and completely ruins the possibility of imagining what it looked like over 1,000 years ago. That being said, sitting in the amphitheatre and writing my journal in the sun, with the panoramic views of Calabria, Etna and the Jonio Sea is almost unbeatable.

Further up the mountain, is a smaller village called Castelmola. It’s quieter than Taormina and for this I prefer it. The castle at the top also gives a view inland as well, and is well worth the steep drive from Taormina.

Back at the coast, we visit Mazzarò, where my father learned to swim, and the beautiful beach at Isola Bella, which certainly lives up to its name! In fact, only at high tide does it actually become an island. Therefore, being low tide, we cross the path and I jump around in the shallow water as the sun disappears into the mountains behind us.

05 May 2009 – Day 6 – Catania

I still haven’t seen Catania, despite staying here nearly a week. Fortunately, there’s enough time before our flight to visit the Piazza del Duomo and the local “Pescheria” fish market. It’s a lovely way to end the trip, surrounded by life as it probably was centuries ago, with the incomprehensible Sicilian cries still ringing in my ears.

I stepped off the plane in Palermo yesterday evening and the heat hit me like the blast of air you get when opening an oven. Temperatures have reached 47 degrees Celsius and the signs are everywhere. Sirens can be heard regularly and in the distance are rows of fires billowing smoke up into the air.

It doesn’t feel any cooler in the hotel either, since the air conditioning isn’t working, so it’s a tough start to the day. Nonetheless, it’s an excuse to get out early and see what this city has to offer.

I’ve twice missed the catacombs in Paris, so Palermo’s tombs are first on the agenda today. The maze of bodies is organised into different sections; men, women, priests and my favourite – ‘professionals’. It’s quite eerie, but very few are anything but clothes and bones. Those that have signs of ‘flesh’ or hair just don’t look real, even if they are over 100 years old.

The heat in Sicily has caused a number of power cuts, so it’s no surprise when the lights go out and the corridors of skeletons go pitch black. I half expect to hear the rattling of bones in the darkness! The last body to be placed in the tomb is of Rosalia Lombardo, a little girl whose face seems so real and delicate, that she could almost be sleeping.

Outside the catacombs, the heat is scorching and it seems ridiculous that no one has opened up a coffee shop or ice cream parlour; they’d make a killing!

About a kilometre east, I find a family run joint with air conditioning. The Sicilian language they use amongst themselves is fast and difficult to follow, although the general gist is about the constant power cuts due to the weather. Cue the power cut! Sitting in semi-darkness, drinking chilled ice-tea, the air conditioning grinds to a halt…

‘Volete un pò di pizza?’ The owner asks, taking a fresh pizza from the oven. I can’t hide my grin. La vita Siciliana è bella!

Palermo’s cathedral is grand, but it’s the Palazzo next to the Porta Nuova which supposedly attracts most of the tourists. It’s surprisingly quiet at this time of the morning and we’re escorted through the parliament rooms, occasionally bumping into the odd government official.

The hotel is just by the Quattro Canti, which is the point at which the main two roads cross through Palermo. Nearby, the Fontana Pretoria holds dozens of half naked statues and apparently unimpressed locals at the time nicknamed it the ‘Fountain of Shame’.

North up via Maqueda, I reach the Teatro Massimo. It’s a large theatre, which was used to film the ending in The Godfather: Part III.

The port area towards the east is unimpressive, so I head towards La Kalsa district, which was badly destroyed in the war. The effects are still evident as little has been reconstructed or repaired. Some narrow roads look seedy and there’s a curious (and even suspicious) stare from some of the locals. However, there are still friendly people around, including one elderly woman dropping a basket from her balcony to collect goods from the market below. She lets me take her photo and her husband, with a mouthful of ice-cream, says the photo will cost me 55 euros. He grins at me with his teeth full of chocolate!

Around the Piazza Magione, young children speed around the gravel tracks on motorbikes and gangs of teenagers loiter on corners. The area isn’t a complete write-off; there’s the fantastic Garibaldi park, which contains some of the most fascinating trees I’ve ever seen in my life. Branches spiral out from the tree and embed themselves into the ground. Others dangle for metres, tempting a Tarzan re-enactment!

The evening passes quickly, with walking, pizzas and some moonlit photography.

27th June 2007 – Corleone

The Carcere Ucciardone prison holds the most notorious mafia criminals in Sicily. I guess I was expecting guards everywhere, watchtowers and all the Alcatraz-style décor, but unsurprisingly, it’s just a huge plain wall. However, the mafia stories bring me nicely to the next destination: Corleone.

It’s a small town halfway between Palermo and Agrigento. Don Vito, from The Godfather, came from this town so I’ve keen to see what it looks like.

I’m so busy looking around that before I know it, my car is face to face with a carabinieri vehicle. He winds down his window and with a sturn voice, asks where I’m headed. I tell him I’m not really going anywhere; I’m here to see the town. He then asks whether I realise I’m driving down the wrong way down a one-way street! I’ve only just arrived in Corleone and already I’m in trouble with the carabinieri!

Fortunately, he sees me for the idiot tourist that I am and tells me to turn around and keep my eyes peeled; ‘occhio, occhio…’

It’s a charming little place but I’m surprised at the lack of Godfather mentions (bar a couple of Il Padrino posters in an ice-cream shop). There are a few other tourists, probably there for the same reason I am. I like Corleone, but not for the reasons I expected.

The twisting, hilly road leads south towards Agrigento. Arriving quite late, there’s enough time to soak up the old town and settle down in a popular enoteca.

28th June 2007 – Agrigento

The Valley of the Temples is “just down the road”, so I set off on foot to find this Unesco Heritage site. An hour later and I’m lost in Agrigento’s maze of high rise buildings. Fortunately, it’s hard to miss the temples and once there’s a gap between the building, I see the direction I should be headed.

Approaching the temples, after about a 5km walk, is an indescribable feeling. The surrounding area hasn’t been touched by anything “modern” (with the exception of roads), which means you see the temples as they were 2500 years ago (albeit a little more crumbled). It’s another hot day and the clear blue skies and intense sun creates some fabulous contrasts of colour. It’s truly one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.

I also didn’t expect to see so much; from Tempio di Giunone on the eastern side all the way west to the Tempio di Castore e Polluce, there is over a kilometre of fascinating history and beauty.

It’s a photography heaven for me, but I’m also determined to get original angles and shots. With so many visitors, there must be a lot of similar photo collections around the world! Saying that, despite the gorgeous weather, there aren’t that many tourists and it only takes a bit of patience to get some shots sans personne.

The archaeological museum is average, but a (delicious) pit stop at the Promenade dei Templi restaurant refuels me to see the rest of the temples. Walking westbound, the temples become more and more ruined. However, even the huge Tempio di Giove (112m x 56m) is jaw-dropping, despite it being a mass of rubble. A copy of one of the massive statues has been laid in the centre, giving a breathtaking idea of how incredible this must have been.

Heading towards the exit, I notice a discreet sign pointing towards the Giardino di Kolymbetra. Climbing down, I feel like I’ve just discovered Frances Burnett’s Secret Garden!

There are flowers and fruit trees everywhere, streams of water and a winding pathway through this fairytale gem. Down at the bottom, there is a trio of tanned gardeners, one of whom is at least 80 years old and he immediately approaches. His name is Leonardo and he’s ever so keen to be a guide. He walks to what looks like an opening in the crag and says that it used to be a church where the locals got married. This was 2500 years ago! I ask him how long he has been here and he says he was brought here with his aunt in 1933!

Although he’s not supposed to, he takes a cutting from the garden and says it’s the flower that couples were given as a symbol of love. He says Emma can take this cutting since she’s English but she must keep it covered so no one sees it! Then he points up a stony path and says there is one more ruin to be seen.

Heeding his advice, I follow the path and cross the railtrack to find the final ruins in the Valley of the Temples. They are less dramatic than the others, but with not a single person in sight, it’s like a lost part of the ruins.

It’s a long (and steep) walk back to the town, but I’m rewarded with a number of cocktails back in Agrigento.

A friendly German couple from Arizona start chatting to us but then it becomes rather exhausting when they describe their three month European vacation (in full detail…) Fortunately, I’m saved when the piazza turns into a huge African party to celebrate unity and togetherness in Sicily!

29th June 2007 – Selinunte

The Valley of the Temples are famous across the world. Yet 100km up the coastline is a small town called Selinunte, which holds some of the best preserved Greek ruins in the world.

The road is winding and it seems to take forever to get there, but the regular moments of suicidal Sicilian driving always keep me amused. Cars overtake when in the opposite direction other vehicles are also overtaking. The roads are old but fortunately quite wide, although I do find myself sucking in air when we’re squeezing four cars across two lanes at 100kph… My favourite was whilst I was being overtaken, another driver decided to overtake the car that was overtaking me; all the worse when you consider there was even a car hurtling towards us in the other direction!

There’s a sigh of relief when I pull up to the entrance of the ruins in Selinunte. The weather is still outrageously hot but it makes a perfect setting for these ruins that sit upon a hill overlooking the sea. There are even fewer tourists here and it allows me to soak up the history surrounding this stunning place.

Selinunte is also famous for its beach, from which you can even see the ruins. It’s a surreal backdrop and allows me to cool off in the water whilst still admiring the views!

Back in Agrigento, the sun has gone to bed and the ruins are fantastically lit up. Unfortunately, the ruins aren’t open at night at this time of year, so I feel I’m going to lose the famous night time shot that I’ve been yearning. Never one to give up easily, I jump in the car and start driving down the country lanes around Agrigento. You simply can’t get anywhere near the ruins and I’m about to lose all hope when I spot a dirt track off the side of the road. I hit the breaks a little hard and quickly turn down the track. There appears to be a little drop from the main road and as the headlights swing across the fields, there’s a massive crunch as the car drops onto the side road. It doesn’t sound good so I spend the next 10 minutes ensuring the photo makes up for the potential damage to the car…

I hit the jackpot as I get one of my favourite photos, with a gorgeous blue, black and yellow contrast of the hillside. Furthermore, the car appears to be fine and with a bit of a “run up” I force the car back up onto the main road. I’m not the only one hitting a jackpot though, since I feel like I’ve lost of pint of blood to a thousand Sicilian mosquitos. Next, it’s my turn for dinner and a final night in Agrigento.

30th June 2007 – Monreale, Palermo

I’ve made it! 130km of “dodgecar” and I’ve returned the hire car to the centre of Palermo without a scratch! There were a few close calls and I nearly took out a moped at 40km/h, but my deposit is safe.

It has also been a successful day as I’ve seen so much. A few hours in Monreale, just south-west of Palermo, is a must. The cathedral has an impressive winding route to the viewpoint at the top and the town itself (although obscenely packed with tourists) is a stereotypical Italian town.

Back in Palermo, I decide that as a change to all the pasta and pizza I’ve been eating, it’s worth a visit to the Lonely Planet recommended Michelin star restaurant, Sant’Andrea. It’s hidden away in a maze of little alleyways, and I clearly look lost as a little old lady approaches me. She’s seems half my height and four times my age and yet she’s got more life in her than I could ever imagine. When I tell her what I’m looking for she looks at me with disgust. She begs me not to go; her friend runs the place and it’s over-priced and snobbish. She pushes her nose up in the air and with her best English accent mocks me, “I’m from Sloane Square!”

She advises some little bars and mimes eating some hot snacks with audible delight. She’s interested in where I’ve lived but she’s horrified when I don’t know which London theatre she’s trying to remember: “Ignorante! Ignorante!!” She cries, reminding me of my father’s similar style of mocking. I could listen to her all day, but she finally turns on her portable radio and it belts out classic music. She waves her arms in the air and walks down the street as if orchestrating the traffic. She leaves me with one final request: ‘Ti prego, non andare a Sant’Andrea!’

I kick myself for not taking her photo, but I could never forget her. It’s a fantastic experience that sums up Sicily for me and I simply can’t ignore her advice. Finding a small coffee shop in the middle of what appears to be a war-torn 1940s street, I ask if they can do food. The reply is positive, although after taking my order, the owner runs out the front door and leaves the bar empty. He returns five minutes later with two plates of food that clearly came from another bar down the road. It’s tasty, it’s quick and most importantly, it’s Sicilian.

The afternoon allows me to explore La Kalsa in a bit more detail. Building are in ruins and it’s crazy that this area that is so central can be so neglected. I particularly like the graffiti on the broken walls, mimicking a cash machine, supermarket, bank and McDonald’s.

The last couple of hours are spent by the coast, taking in the last rays of sunshine and eating some fantastic ice-cream. The locals play football in the park area and I’m laughed at again when they see me taking pictures – “paparazzi!”

My Sicilian adventure has been everything I hoped for and more. It’s an island of beauty and history and the locals resonate a spirit of life that I’ve never seen anywhere else. Furthermore, the food and weather has been out of this world, leaving me with just one question: When can I return!?

Highlights were a restaurant allowing me to test out my pizza making skills, window shopping in the Golden Quad, the huge skeleton art display by Il Duomo, relaxing in the Parco Sempione and of course, each of the three goals Milan scored against Empoli.

Milan is going through a prolonged period of throwing away scoring opportunities and this game was no different. However, seeing Ronaldo in the Rossoneri shirt was a great sight, as was the return of Serginho after his long injury. Of course, the game doesn’t have to be good to enjoy the San Siro – I adore each visit as the crowd is fantastic and even half empty there’s a great atmosphere.

A last minute trip to Morzine, on the border of Switzerland and France, with a few mates was absolutely brilliant. To be able to ski across the border with endless amounts of pistes was great fun. We then had several mad evenings chucked in there too. Best of all, we’ve got some of the funniest (and maybe a little tipsy) moments captured on film – and I’m currently in the process of (my latest hobby) editing the footage to make a DVD.

Soon after that trip, Emma and I went to Venice for a long weekend over Easter. I was expecting to find it nice, but it truly is fantastic. I ate and drank like a king for all four days and we managed to see so much of the city too.

Finally, Emma went off on her own ski trip last weekend, so I decided to head to Poland. I was in Warsaw for four days, and because I stayed in a youth hostel, I met loads of other travellers; the best of the bunch were from Canada. They truly are the friendliest bunch of people in the world! They are just so happy all the time!

Anyway, I’m all “Poped out” after Warsaw – the scenes of mourning were unbelievable. That along with visits of the post-war monuments made for quite an emotional weekend. Fortunatately, come the evenings, the Poles are keen for you to try all their food and drink and party the rest of the night away!