The Sicily Divide, a 550 km odyssey that promised a perfect balance of backcountry adventure and Italian small-town charm, beckoned us. This diverse route, a mix of paved roads, abandoned rail-trails, and dirt tracks, offered the promise of challenging climbs, exhilarating descents, and a unique way to explore the Mediterranean’s largest island by bicycle. Before setting off, we met Giovanni, the architect of this grand adventure, and his wife in the heart of Palermo. Their warm welcome, along with the brevet card in hand, signalled the start of our journey. But first, a minor crisis: my Redshift Stem had snapped during the flight. A frantic search led us to a local bike shop, where a kind mechanic worked his magic, replacing the broken part and ensuring my bike was ready for the rugged terrain ahead. (The lovely guys at Redshift promptly sent a replacement as I came back to London for free!)
Giovanni and the stem trouble
With that hurdle cleared, we spent a day exploring Palermo, soaking in its atmosphere. We wandered through the vibrant Ballaro’ market, marveling at the colourful displays of fresh produce, and sampled local delicacies. We also visited some of the city’s iconic landmarks, including the grand Norman Palace and the Palatine Chapel with its exquisite mosaics.
Palermo and street food at Ballaro’ market
Day 1: Palermo to Poggioreale — 113km, 2100m elevation gain
Dawn broke, the sky heavy with clouds as we pedaled out of the city. The first challenge, a relentless climb that tested our mettle, was accompanied by a chorus of barking Sicilian canines — a soundtrack we’d soon learn by heart. The reward, though, was a glorious descent into a verdant valley, the landscape unfolding before us in a panorama of green and gold.
verdant valleys and tunnels
We pressed on through a series of picturesque valleys, eventually reaching Gibellina…
beautiful valley descents
…a town forever marked by the devastating earthquake of 1968. The remnants of the old town, a haunting reminder of the disaster, stood in stark contrast to the modern architecture that had risen from the rubble. The new Gibellina town welcomed us with our first brevet stamp and a feast of pistachio pesto pasta — a true taste of Sicily. But the day’s highlight was yet to come.
Gibellina, pasta and tragic earthquake history
The March sun dipped below the horizon early, after an hard and long 400m ascent between fields of clay and wheat, casting long shadows as we reached the Cretto di Burri, a sprawling concrete memorial to the earthquake victims, an otherworldly expanse of concrete pyramids that seemed even more mysterious in the fading light. A poignant reminder of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of tragedy.
The last climb to Poggioreale, a 260m ascent that seemed to stretch into eternity, was a symphony of distant barks, a reminder of the wildness that surrounded us. A lone farm dog puppy, all wagging tail and eager eyes, greeted us along the way, offering a moment of comfort.
Arriving in Poggioreale under the cloak of night, we were greeted by Pietra, the owner of our B&B, a woman whose warmth and hospitality radiated through the darkness. Her handcrafted ceramics and the traditional bread in her exposition room filled us with a sense of home.
Pietra of Villa Pietra (one of the highlighted B&Bs on the Sicily Divide website
Weary but elated, we celebrated our arrival with six units of pizza, savoring each cheesy bite before surrendering to sleep.
Pizza!
The Sicily Divide had begun, and we were hungry for more…
Day 2: Poggioreale to Cammarata — 123km, 2500m elevation gain
The second day dawned wet and dreary, a stark contrast to the previous evening’s warmth. We rolled out of Poggioreale, the morning mist clinging to the landscape as we tackled a series of descents. But the respite was brief, as a gruelling climb awaited us to Montevago, a ghost town frozen in time by the 1968 earthquake. The skeletal remains of houses and shops offered a chilling glimpse into the lives shattered by the disaster.
The climb
Old Montevago and the ruins
A few miles on, the new town of Montevago provided a welcome respite, its cheerful almond sweets a stark contrast to the somber ruins we’d just encountered.
Refuelled and stamped, we pushed on through Santa Margherita di Belice, pausing at the top viewpoint for a quick selfie before continuing our journey towards Arancio Lake. Another climb led us to Sanbuca di Sicilia, a charming town brimming with vibrant mosaics and historic buildings.
Sanbuca di Sicilia
The ride from Sanbuca to San Carlo was pure cycling bliss. Miles of traffic-free greenway stretched out before us, winding through lush valleys. The smooth terrain and gentle gradient allowed us to find our rhythm and soak in the stunning surroundings.
Around 20km of greenway through valleys ❤
San Carlo greeted us with another stamp and a bustling bar where we devoured well-deserved panini and refreshing drinks. A quick gelato stop fueled us for the next leg of the journey.
Unfortunately, we had overlooked a crucial detail: our route was outdated. As we approached the Sesio river, we were confronted by a collapsed bridge, a stark reminder of the ever-changing nature of the landscape. A quick detour and a route update later, we were back on track.
The rest of the day was a rollercoaster of ups and downs, weaving through picturesque villages where friendly locals offered water and snacks. We crested hills, only to be rewarded with sweeping views of the valleys below and fun descents to the valleys below.
Lago di Magazzolo
Villafranca Sicula
As the sun began its descent, we tackled the most formidable climb of the day, a relentless ascent towards San Giovanni Gemini and Cammarata, our haven for the night.
Darkness enveloped us as we pedalled into the night, the twinkling lights of Cammarata a welcome sight after hours in the saddle. Our gracious host at the B&B went above and beyond, driving me to a local pizzeria and back so we could refuel with delicious pizza before collapsing into bed. Exhausted but exhilarated, we drifted off to sleep, eager for the next chapter of our Sicilian adventure.
Day 3: Cammarata to Enna — 95km, 2000m elevation gain (with a train shortcut)
Daybreak brought a welcome change of scenery as we plunged down from Cammarata into the valley below, the morning sun painting the landscape in warm hues. But the respite was fleeting. A rugged gravel climb loomed, and my knee, a nagging companion from the day before, began its familiar ache.
The ascent seemed endless, winding upwards until we reached the summit, where a lone cow skull greeted us like a sentinel. The breathtaking view of San Giovanni Gemini in the distance was a worthy reward for our efforts.
San Giovanni Gemini and the valley in the distance
A swift descent followed, punctuated by a brief pause to allow a flock of sheep to clear the path — a reminder that in Sicily, the traffic is often of the four-legged variety.
A technical, rutted stretch of farmland led us to another beast of a climb, a 400m ascent over 7km that tested our resolve. The reward at the top was Mussomeli, a town that had made headlines for its scheme of selling dilapidated houses for €1 to lure new residents.
The entrance and the castle at the other side
At a local bar recommended by the Sicily Divide website, we collected another stamp and fueled up on delicious paninis and drinks. The descent from Mussomeli was a dream, 19 km of twisting, traffic-free tarmac that wound through fragrant valleys, a heady mix of spring and summer scents filling the air.
More sheep traffic greeted us as we climbed back into the hills, followed by a convivial stop at a bar in Serradifalco, where the locals serenaded us with a karaoke rendition of Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” — a tune that would echo in our ears for days to come.
Read day 5 to understand why
The afternoon brought a succession of quiet, scenic roads, their beauty marred only by the occasional pothole — a minor inconvenience for our trusty gravel bikes. We rolled into Caltanissetta as dusk settled, my knee throbbing in protest. The decision was made: we would take a train to Enna, sparing my battered joint further agony.
Alas, we missed our train connection by a mere few minutes! This was particularly ironic, as Trenitalia, known for its relaxed approach to scheduling, was actually on time for once. Murphy’s Law strikes again! With the next one hours away and darkness falling, hunger gnawed at our stomachs. A frantic search for food proved fruitless; it was Easter, and everything was closed. Desperation set in as we climbed back towards Caltanissetta, hoping to find sustenance.
Then, a stroke of luck. Near a church, we encountered Salvatore, a kind-hearted local who offered us oranges and a warm smile. He introduced us to his partner, Alessandra, and invited us into their home. Over cheese, lamb, and wine, we shared stories and laughter, the warmth of their hospitality melting away the day’s hardships. Salvatore even checked the train schedule for us, ensuring we wouldn’t miss our ride.
our saviours, welcoming us in their home! A typical Sicilian hospitality guarantee
A short train journey later, we arrived in Enna under a star-strewn sky. But our ordeal wasn’t over yet.
A steep, 300m climb to the town center awaited, a final test of our weary legs. We finally reached the B&B Proserpina, a haven of traditional charm and a hearty breakfast — a welcome sight after the day’s trials and tribulations. But for now, a hot shower and the promise of a soft bed were all that mattered.
Day 4: Enna to Bronte — 103km, 2025m elevation gain
The fourth day began with a feast for the senses at our Enna hotel. The breakfast room, adorned with traditional Sicilian majolica tiles and rustic stone walls, set the scene for a hearty meal that fuelled us for the challenges ahead.
B&B Prosperina free breakfast
With bellies full and spirits high, we set out towards Bronte later than usual, my knee still twinging but hope springing eternal for a pain-free day.
A 500-meter descent, a delightful mix of smooth tarmac, broken pavement, and unpaved sections, led us down into the valley towards Leonforte.
A short climb brought us to a picturesque fountain, its cool water a welcome respite from the midday sun. We refilled our bottles, stocked up on juicy oranges and mandarins from a local vendor, and continued our journey.
Lunchtime approached as we started the ascent to Agira.
The famous Black Poplar of Agira
Many businesses were closed for Easter, but we managed to find a few open bars offering paninis and other local specialties. Our companion Nancy was waiting outside and had acquainted herself with a few very chatty locals, who told us quite the tale about the draught, their life in Agira and a few other quirky details best left untold. After devouring a gargantuan panini, we stumbled upon a bar that could stamp our brevets. We celebrated with a refreshing pistachio granita before continuing on towards Lake Pozzillo and the surrounding woods.
The lake, parched by a prolonged drought, was a stark reminder of Sicily’s water scarcity. We crossed the dam and began the climb to Regalbuto, a popular overnight stop for many Divide riders. But we had a different plan.
The dam, some arancini in Regalbuto
With Mount Etna looming on the horizon, we’d asked Giovanni, the organiser of the Sicily Divide, for an alternate route that would lead us to the volcano’s slopes and ultimately to Catania, our final destination. Armed with his guidance, we veered off-course towards Bronte, the heart of Sicilian pistachio country.
Our first sight of Etna, all the way down the valley
The climb to Bronte was relentless, but the thought of another pistachio pesto pasta, this time with guanciale, spurred us on.
Reaching Bronte, we found the town in full festive swing for Easter, making the search for an open restaurant a challenge. After a flurry of phone calls, we secured a reservation for 10:30 PM at a local eatery.
Our accommodation for the night was, to put it mildly, eccentric. The kind owners had waited for our arrival, and the house itself was a riot of unique decor.
Our home for the night
After a much-needed shower, we donned our “formal” attire — a motley collection of pyjamas, cleanish cycling clothes, and rain jackets — and headed out to our late dinner.
(not) dressed for the occasion
The pistachio pesto pasta did not disappoint, and we returned to our quirky abode with full bellies and happy hearts.
Pepe Rosa restaurant
A few minutes spent watching the town’s Easter celebrations gave way to the need for rest. Tomorrow would be the last demanding day, and we knew we’d need all our strength to conquer Etna.
Bronte Easter celebrations at midnight
Day 5: Bronte to Catania via Etna — 101km, 2040m elevation gain
Our final day began with a feast fit for champions, courtesy of the B&B’s generous breakfast voucher. We indulged in a triple portion of pistachio pastries, double espresso shots, and savory snacks for the road. With a final restock at a local market, we were ready to tackle the ultimate challenge: the ascent of Mount Etna.
The climb out of Bronte began on a cobbled street, the wind already whipping at our backs. This would prove to be our fiercest adversary of the day, with gusts over 60 km/h threatening to topple us on the steep slopes. The sight of e-MTBs descending effortlessly made us question our choice of steeds, but we pressed on, fueled by determination.
As we climbed higher, the cobbles gave way to black sand and volcanic rock, the landscape transformed into a lunar-like terrain. We marveled at the frozen lava flows, some dating back to the 1700s, testament to Etna’s fiery history. The climb grew steeper and the ground looser, each pedal stroke a battle against gravity and the elements. The rising sun beat down mercilessly, forcing us to stop frequently for rest and hydration.
After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the summit, 2000m above sea level. Our longest single-climb elevation ever, with 1200m of ascent to cover. The landscape was otherworldly, with snow clinging to shaded patches and panoramic views stretching out in all directions.
Almost at 2000m, our main summit
We paused for a well-deserved lunch of Bronte delicacies, savoring the accomplishment and the stunning vistas.
The descent from the summit was a mix of exhilarating, sandy sections and rocky, technical trails, interspersed with patches of green forest. After hours of off-road riding, we yearned for the smooth tarmac that awaited us at the base of the volcano.
We emerged from the Etna trails after a particularly bumpy descent, reaching a rifugio where we refueled with paninis and drinks. But our challenges weren’t over yet.
no photos of panini, we were that hungry! Here’s a dog instead
A thick fog rolled in, obscuring our vision as we began the 26km descent towards the Catania coastline. The air grew salty as we neared the sea, but the misty darkness and increasing traffic made the final stretch a tense affair.
The thick fog descending to Catania was worse than how it looks in this picture!
We arrived in Catania around 9 pm, weary but triumphant. A quick restock for dinner, a hot shower at our B&B, and we collapsed into bed, the magnitude of our accomplishment still sinking in.
Catania
The following day, as we travelled by train from Catania to Palermo, the Sicily Divide experience began to crystallise. We made a memorable stop in Messina for the best arancini of our lives, savouring each bite as we reflected on the journey.
Rosticceria F.lli Famulari
Back in Palermo, we reunited with Giovanni, who presented us with our finisher badges and commemorative t-shirts — tangible reminders of our Sicilian adventure.
A quick visit to Mondello near Palermo, before packing our bikes for our trip back to London
The Sicily Divide was a rollercoaster of emotions, a journey that tested our limits and rewarded us with stunning landscapes, delicious food, and unforgettable encounters. It was a trip we’d recommend to anyone seeking a unique cycling challenge, a chance to connect with Sicily’s rich culture, and a whole lot of fun along the way. Just be sure to pack a reliable GPS and the latest route maps — you never know what surprises the Sicilian roads might hold!
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