Sicily. A place I’ve always wanted to visit. This desire may have stemmed from my vision of sitting at a small table in a mountain village and gorging myself on local cuisine, fresh olives, and carafes of wine. Maybe I was intrigued by the 50 times I watched Michael Corleone spend two years there—his father’s homeland and birthplace of the mafia. Or maybe I just wanted to see how you ride a train to an island.

Whatever it was that fascinated me about Sicily fueled my anticipation as our 10 days on the island grew closer. At the same time, something else was growing—an ache in my knee. An ache that ended up disrupting our Sicilian plans, and almost ended our European travels. If you’re new to our travel stories, you should know, this is becoming a theme (see Things Go Wrong on the Road).

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Getting There

There are many ways to get to Sicily—literally by land, sea, or air. We opted for our preferred method of transportation during our European travels—train. While the ride is a grueling 10 hours from Naples, it is one of the coolest and beautiful around. We enjoyed hundreds of miles of Italian coastline as we voyaged south through the Campania and Calabria regions. When we reached the big toe of the Italian boot we were separated from Sicily by the Strait of Messina.

I imagined we would be getting off the train, riding a ferry, and getting on another train to continue the journey. Not quite. The train is separated into two parts and loaded onto the ferry. Once loaded, passengers are allowed to leave the train car and venture topside for a beautiful 30-minute voyage to Sicily. From there, the train is put back on the track, where we traveled another 140 miles to our destination, the regional capital, Palermo.

Trouble Begins

My knee actually began hurting in Florence a month before we arrived in Sicily. I shook it off as being sore from the literal thousands of steps we ascended and descended during our time in Cinque Terre. Not to mention all the foot travel the month before in France. We continued our Italian adventure through ancient cobblestone streets—ascending and descending towers, churches, and bridges while I popped ibuprofen like Skittles.

I’m not sure what the straw was that broke the camel’s back (or more accurately, my knee). Maybe it was the long train ride. Maybe it was the 6 flights of stairs we had to climb to our rental apartment. Or maybe it was the whole pizza I ate in Naples the day before. Whatever it was, the first morning I woke up in Palermo, my knee was extremely swollen and very hard to bend. “Oh, let’s just rest today, get some work done, and see how tomorrow goes,” we said. Then Day 2 arrived and my knee was more swollen and bent even less. And the next day, even worse. After hours of internet research and convincing myself I was going to die, it was time to go to the hospital.

Pronto Soccorso

If you’ve ever wondered how much Italian you should learn before traveling to Italy, think about what would happen if you ended up in the emergency room—aka pronto soccorso (especially if traveling outside of English-friendly Rome, Florence, or Venice) We can’t speak Italian worth a shit, so bad in fact that the cab driver dropped us off about two blocks from the entrance. Not great with a bum knee. After being guided inside by a helpful and sympathetic stranger we were greeted with the expected full house of injured and sick.

Here is where speaking some Italian would have come in handy: 1) checking in, 2) explaining my symptoms, and 3) understanding anything that was said to me. When I finally met with a nurse she seemed to think I was crazy or being a wuss because my knee wasn’t hanging by a few tendons. After some language barrier frustration, I somehow understood I was going to be transferred by ambulance to orthopedics for an exam.

The exam of my knee felt more like a wrestling submission hold. However, the doctor did speak enough English to assure me I was not in any danger, should rest more, and could wait until I returned to the US for treatment. Now that any danger was ruled out, we began thinking about the bill. However, that part never came. That’s right, free emergency services in Sicily. You can imagine our relief and surprise. It may be the only time I get to experience universal healthcare, so thank you, Italy, for covering even an unlucky tourist!

Out and about, finally

After a few more days of RICE (rest, ice, compress, elevate), chomping ibuprofen, and walking on a shiny new crutch, my knee was finally on the mend. So, we decided to get out and see the place I was most looking forward to visiting. After 6 days in bed where is the perfect place to go? How about a crypt with over 8,000 mummified corpses….no really, that’s exactly what we did. What better way to remind myself that I’m alive and kicking (well hobbling at least)!

Catacombi dei Cappuccini

The Capuchin Catacombs or Catacombi dei Cappuccini was the place to get yourself embalmed, stuffed, and hung from a wall in the 17-1800’s. Originally, this privilege was only reserved for clergy, but after some serious local interest it was opened up to successful businessmen and families. Now loved ones could come and admire a mummified corpse and only hope they could be that cool when they died. Bodies were periodically cleaned and even given a change of clothing as long as money kept coming in. Once that stopped, a corpse would be thrown in a back room and stacked like firewood.

Now the catacombs are mainly a tourist attraction. For 3€ ($3.40) you have full access to the underground crypt. Sorry, no selfies with the corpses. In fact, photos and videos are strictly forbidden. The whole place is under surveillance and when someone’s caught taking pictures it sets off a very loud alarm and the offender is publicly scolded over the PA system. It wasn’t me, I swear!

Because I couldn’t walk very far, and the catacombs are across town, we decided to take the city bus. If you are looking for cheap excitement in Palermo, the city bus system is the place to start. They have two speeds: stop and warp speed. When standing on a bus with a crutch and it goes from warp to stop you slam directly into the person in front of you, and then they slam into the person in front of them. This game of human dominoes was one situation where I was glad I didn’t understand what was said to me in Italian.

Mondello Beach

The next day we headed back out to ride the USS Palermo (aka the bus) to Mondello Beach. Located 40 minutes west, Mondello Beach is a must when visiting Palermo. With cliffs on both sides and the blue Tyrrhenian Sea straight ahead, it’s easy to see why Mondello Beach is a favorite for tourists and locals alike. You can opt to use the free beach area which is the first 50 feet from waters edge or pay for chairs and umbrellas. After 2 pm it’s 6€ ($6.80) a person. A reasonable price to pay for an afternoon in paradise. Especially after almost a week in bed working, reading my Kindle, and watching Netflix.

Expect the Unexpected

While at first I was disappointed about being laid up in Sicily we made the best of our time. Even though we didn’t make it to any small villages, we did have some of our favorite meals in Palermo. It’s an amazing city with huge outdoor markets, a long and diverse history, and budget friendly restaurants and activities. We didn’t get to do most of what we planned, but all thing considered, we made the best of our time and overcame a huge travel hurdle. With long-term travel you can expect the unexpected, and you can’t control everything. If something changes, don’t be disappointed by what you missed, be grateful for what you experienced.

Have your travel plans changed drastically? Has a vacation included days in bed or a trip to the emergency room? We’d love to hear how you deal with the unexpected below!

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