Catania, verdict by verdict

Catania is Sicily at full volume: a baroque centre rebuilt in black lava stone after Etna's tantrums, the fish market roaring under the Duomo square in a slice of city life nobody dressed up for tourists, the Benedictine monastery's guided labyrinth, and Mount Etna smoking on the skyline as the actual day trip, summit trek and all. Street food from arancini to granita is a genuine highlight, and Syracuse's Greek theatre and Taormina's terrace sit an easy ride away.

The catch is grit rather than polish: traffic snarls, facades are blackened, some streets feel rough after dark, vendors themselves call the market a shadow of its old self, and the city asks you to look past surfaces for the payoff. Etna's summit zone closes when the volcano is active, the flagship food tour turns away vegetarians, the Alibus leaves a 00:30 to 04:40 overnight gap, and July-August empty the centre toward the coast.

Two days covers the city, plus a day each for Etna and Syracuse or Taormina, whose Greek theatre frames the volcano in one photo. April to June and September to October give warmth without the worst heat. Sleep in the centre for the market-and-Via-Etnea convenience, accept the noise as the cover charge, and travelers wanting postcard Sicily with zero grit should base in Taormina instead.