Pedalling along Sicily’s scenic coast where every turn is a treat

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Gazing out across the sepia-tinted landscape, I can’t shake the feeling I’ve fallen into a Merchant Ivory film from the ’90s, where the scenery is as dramatic as the plot twists. Rolling hills undulate toward the horizon, their gentle slopes draped in a patchwork of dry stone walls and olive groves. Whizzing along this back road, I attract barking dogs to their gates as though I’ve stuffed salami in my Lycra. Up ahead, I spot a bell tower piercing the sky. Minutes later, I reach the village, finding my crew predictably clustered around a bar.

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Stepping off my chariot and walking slightly bowlegged toward them, I can’t help but feel proud, a sentiment that’s fuelled as I’m greeted with hearty cheers. I may be the last to arrive at this pit stop, but I’ve just conquered my first significant ascent, and surely, a celebration is in order. Fortunately, the bar doubles as a gelateria, and in no time, I’m happily devouring brioche stuffed with hazelnut gelato and catching up with my new friends.

It’s 11 a.m. on Day 1 of my six-day cycling tour of southern Sicily with Exodus Travels and I’m already feeling like a conqueror — armed with nothing but a bike and an insatiable appetite for carbs. Promising stunning views and the ultimate excuse to eat all the pasta I can handle, taking a cycling trip through Italy has always been on my bucket list.

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Like many, I’ve got fed up with the mental gymnastics of planning my own adventures. There’s something luxurious about scrolling through ready-made vacations, imagining the perfect trip unfolding, and all you have to do is click “Book Now” and show up.

Apparently, I’m not alone. According to the latest trends from the State of the Cycling Tour Operators Industry (2024), cycling tourism is booming like never before.

“Cycling allows travellers to experience a destination in a slow and integrated manner, with opportunities to immerse in the local culture and nature along the way. New innovations, such as e-bikes, open the activity to a wider and more diverse variety of adventure-seekers,” says Heather Kelly, Adventure Travel Trade Association’s director of research.

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Kelly’s spot on. In our merry band of recreational cyclists, a third have chosen e-bikes to make the experience more enjoyable. Everyone on this trip except me seems to have a frequent flyer card with Exodus. One sprightly 70 year old has tackled nine cycling trips with them. Another lad has completed 15 and is contemplating returning to Sri Lanka for the fourth time to take the same cycle tour in December.

Me? I just want to make it through all 53 kilometres of Day 1 without collapsing in a heap. After gelato, we pedal through the lower valleys of the Hyblaean Mountains before climbing more than 700 metres into Ragusa, an exceptionally pretty baroque village built in shades of cream and golden limestone. After a lunch of fresh pomegranate juice, arancini stuffed with ragu and a single cannolo the size of my forearm, it’s back on the bikes for a swift descent before the rain sets in.

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We don’t outride the rain, but who cares when you’re sheltered under an almond tree munching on nuts your support driver has smashed open with a rock? A hot shower awaits just a few kilometres away, and when the mud is eventually washed off my calves, I feel elated. I can’t believe how great it felt to be in the fresh air, witnessing the landscape change slowly, not blurring by as it does from the window of a car. I’ve savoured the entire day and have never felt more present.

The following day, I spring from bed, eagerly studying the clouds. The skies are blue, so we throw our swimsuits in the support van. It takes mere minutes to morph from cyclists to swimmers when we hit the beach midday. It’s hard to beat plunging into the Mediterranean after a sweaty ride, but the slightly greener and calmer Ionian Sea, which we dive into days later, just might.

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Our days fall into a gentle rhythm of cycling for about an hour before stopping for cappuccinos and gelato. There are swimming breaks and leisurely lunches in pretty fishing villages, each boasting its own former tuna factory. Days wrap up by mid-afternoon — just enough time to laze around the hotel pool or explore the surroundings on our own.

We stay for a few nights at an agritourism hotel and fall head over wheels for the cuisine and our host, Concetta, who I keep mistakenly calling Contessa, so regal is she. Concetta graciously offers to teach us how to make bread, which we quickly agree to, though our results can’t compare to her toothsome loaves.

This part of southern Sicily is riddled with baroque architecture thanks to a surge in rebuilding after the earthquake of 1693. The grandest lies within Noto, a city of staggering beauty lined with elegantly dilapidated palaces and churches, all adorned with ornate details from local limestone that glows warm honey at sunset.

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That afternoon, we ditch the pool and spend hours exploring Noto’s nooks and crannies. Our investigation leads us to a wine bar embedded within a crypt because nothing says Sicily quite like chugging Nero d’Avola, where people once worshipped. The Almighty’s retribution the next day is swift and just and feels like cycling through molasses.

The morning finds us ascending to the archeological site of ancient Noto, passing what looks like small caves carved into the limestone but are actually Bronze Age tombs. The uphill crawl is manageable, but the 700 m descent, complete with hairpin turns, has me white-knuckling my brakes, much to the dismay of the vehicles trapped behind me.

Eventually, I pull up alongside my peloton, patiently waiting at — surprise, surprise — another bar. Within minutes, a restorative gelato (and, if you must know, a generous Aperol Spritz) appears. My fear melts away faster than the ice cream, which is a relief because it’s time to plot out dinner.

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