Hello from… Salina, one of the Aeolian Islands—a low-key chain off the north coast of Sicily, with a remote appeal and less name recognition than nearby Taormina or Capri. Relaxed even by Aeolian standards, Salina is the quietest of the bunch. I decided to come for four days with my two young sons, ages 4 and 15 months, because I’d heard that the island has a sleepy charm that’s a welcome departure from the see-and-be-seen vibe of more touristed holiday havens. Beloved by Sicilians and Neapolitans for its viticulture, lush landscapes, and relaxed atmosphere, it’s a place to linger over a glass of Malvasia, walk along the pebbled shore, eat long lunches, and, if you’re feeling slightly adventurous, hike an extinct volcano.
Where I’m staying… Hotel Signum, a seasonal property that’s hidden on a side street in the tiny village of Malfa. Started by Clara Rametta and Michele Caruso and now run by a second generation of family, the 30-key hotel channels Aeolian farmhouses with cacti and stone stairs. The fragrant gardens are full of lemon trees, jasmine and herbs, while the pool is ringed by sun beds and a gazebo. Because of the defining lack of urgency, no one is staking a claim at 6 a.m., so you can always find a place to post up after a dip. There are quiet corners to unwind inside as well, including a seldom-visited library.
Tucked inside the main house and various other traditional cottages, each of the 30 rooms is decorated in a typical Aeolian style with tiled floors, wrought iron beds, and antiques, and scented with bergamot oil diffusers.
At a time when so many spas are going high tech, a return to analog wellness feels downright dreamy. I had an amazing massage with olive oil. (Next time, I want to try the almond milk bath, which takes place in a copper tub from the 1800s.) The relaxation area is a sunny deck with spring-fed sunken baths, comfy seating, and housemade herbal tea.
The best meal I had… was at Signum Restaurant, the hotel’s Michelin-starred option, helmed by chef Martina Caruso. The tasting menu honors Salina’s agricultural heritage and isn’t fussy or overcomplicated—think tuna tartare, fresh-baked bread, garden vegetable soup, and rigatoni with bottarga. The kitchen made wheel-shaped pasta with tomato sauce for the kids, which was so thoughtful. Before dinner, we enjoyed an aperitivo on the sea-view terrace. I ordered Salina Bianco, and my husband had a cocktail made with muddled herbs from the garden. We nibbled olives and almonds and waited in anticipation to see if Stromboli would put on a volcanic show (it regularly erupts in the evenings).
I also often think about lunch at Pinnata del Monsú, on a covered patio overlooking rolling vineyards outside of Malfa. The daily special was a homemade fish ravioli with broth. There was a nice breeze. The owner bought toys for the boys to play with. I sipped my wine in peace. It simply doesn’t get better than that!
If you’re catching the ferry from Santa Marina Salina, Da Alfredo is a great spot to sit outside and have a refreshing lemon granita. For a meal near the port, head to Nni Lausta, order one of the fresh catches, and save room for a cannolo Siciliano for dessert.
Most fun thing I did… If you ask me—and Sicilians who love Salina—this is a destination that embodies dolce far niente (the sweetness of doing nothing). Much of our trip was spent sunning by the pool, sipping Salina Bianco on the terrace bars (Bar Ravesi is particularly enchanting at sunset), strolling around the tiny town of Malfa, and venturing down to Spiaggia dello Scario, where the water crashes into the rocky shores. If you don’t mind a slightly more precarious entry, Spiaggia di Pollara is known for its craggy cliffs and crystal water.
Since we had our two little travelers in tow, I won’t say it precluded adventure, but it did make me opt out of cruising the winding roads on two wheels. I chatted with a lovely French couple without the same kid constraints who raved about zipping around curves and finding a quiet, empty spot to watch the sunset.
The book I read (and would recommend)… The boys, who never managed to nap at the same time and nearly outlasted me most evenings, left little time for reading. But I did pack and make it through the first few pages of The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, which is about the decline of the Sicilian aristocracy during the period of Italian unification.
The playlist on repeat… Salina calls for mellow music, played at a low volume. I found Mediterranean Nights on Spotify—it’s all instrumental, guitar-forward. The melodies are relaxing. Without vocals, it just fades perfectly into the background.
A thing or two I learned… Monte Fossa delle Felci, which rises 3,156 feet above the middle of Salina, is the highest point in the Aeolian archipelago. It’s a popular place for hiking and soaking in the views.
The best thing I’m bringing home… A linen button-up shirt with colorful fish printed on it for my older son, Miles. It was hanging outside a small store along the main road in Malfa. The owner offered to get a fresh one from the back, but I insisted on this one because the sun-faded colors are so pretty. A few doors down, La Boutique Flora, a family-run business, stocks colorful handcrafted ceramics made by local artisans. The owner’s son, Emanuele Donato, and his wife, Caterina, have a pottery shop, La Bottega di Sophie, in nearby Santa Marina Salina.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.