Solo Backpacking Europe: Week 5 in Catania, Italy

Don’t feel like reading? Here, I’ll read it to you

Catania is in Sicily, Italy. Home of the cannoli, the mafia, and the biggest active volcano in Europe which, yes, I did scale.

This was the week of men doing and saying jaw-dropping things. When I look back at this week of my life I think, what in the hell? In some instances, I mean jaw-dropping in a good way. Surprising, sweet, wholesome, unexpected, jaw-dropping. In other instances, I mean jaw-dropping in a bad way. Shocking, idiotic, rude, hurtful, jaw-dropping. While I won’t go into the details of all of them, because hey! this is my life we’re talking about! Some of them I just have to share. If you are one of these men and you’re reading this, I’d like to say I’m sorry but…

Day 27

On Saturday night I arrived in Catania. If you remember from last week, my friend Poh Chuen and I happened to be on the same flight from Greece. Though he was staying at a different hostel than I was, he walked me to mine to make sure I got there safely.

Saturday night is a difficult time to arrive at a hostel. Many people will be out on the town already, so I kind of just assumed I would have a chill night in. Never assume this.

After I checked in, I shoved my backpack in the locker and headed out. I went to check out Poh Chuen’s hostel with him and we met a few people there who were on their way out to get a drink. In all truth, I was really tired and just wanted to go to bed, but I needed to take this social opportunity after being cooped up on my own for the last few days. I was basically nodding off at the table when I finally called it. Poh Chuen, the gem, wouldn’t let me walk in the dark alone and I made it back to my hostel safely.

DAY 28

On Sunday morning I woke up with a mission.

Get some warmer clothes/shoes
Make a friend.

When you check into a new hostel, all you really need is to meet one person because that one person will have met other people at the hostel. As you’re talking, more and more will trickle in and join the conversation, and all of a sudden, you’re in a group of cool people making plans to hike a volcano. Or something along those lines.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, before going to claim my free breakfast and make a friend. I chatted with some of the staff and settled into my new surroundings. Ostello Degli Elefanti has these balconies jutting out from the lobby that overlook the street. I spent a lot of time out there. There are street musicians who play music all day long, incredible views of the skyline, and people watching as far as the eye can see.

I went on a little shopping spree this afternoon and met up with Poh Chuen and friends from the other hostel to go to an escape room in the evening. I had never done one before and found it funny that I was doing it in Italy of all places. To me, it always seemed like something you do when you’re bored in suburbia, but I was wrong. We didn’t escape in time, but we had a laugh. It feels pretty dang good when you solve one of the puzzles.

Their hostel had suffered some gnarly damage from a flood a few days earlier, so their community spaces were shut down. Luckily, mine had a lot of fun activities and group spaces that we were all able to enjoy. We spent countless hours playing ping pong and sipping wine on the balconies. I even taught them a new card game- Spoons! I truly couldn’t fathom that none of them had ever played as it was a childhood staple for me. It’s so fun to learn about the different worlds we all grew up in.

Day 29

On Monday, I spent a long morning in the hostel lobby. I talked with other guests about crazy stories and cool people we had met. They told me of a boy with a kind heart and carefree attitude who never wore shoes. He had checked out the day before I arrived. I was bummed I missed out on this character but excited for the future shoe-less, carefree, kind-hearted people I’d meet in my travels.

In the afternoon we piled in a rental car to check out another Sicilian town, Taormina. We strolled down the streets, stopping at Piazza IX Aprile and San Giuseppe, Villa Comunale, Cattedrale di San Nicola, and Isola Bella.

Day 30

Tuesday was one of pure audacity. I can’t believe all that was said and done. For a day I had dedicated to doing nothing, there’s sure a lot to say about it. Let’s start from the beginning.

By this point in my trip, I was feeling pretty lonely. I was constantly surrounded by people and it was really fun, but I was lonely for people who knew me at a deeper level; I missed my friends and family.

I remember messaging my sister that morning talking about how I thought it may be time for me to come home. I was over it. I was getting pissed off at the hostel beds, at the lack of privacy, at getting lost, at myself for only knowing English, at everything. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a long-term traveler like I dreamed, I thought. It’s funny how life handed me exactly what I needed to be revived in that dream.

When I studied in Italy back in 2020, my professors talked about something that struck me pretty hard and changed the way I live my life. They talked about how Americans are always in a rush. They dart from place to place, they walk fast on the streets, they live to work, and they jam-pack their schedules. I remember one professor posed that if you ask an American what they’re doing with their day they’ll list a million things. If you ask an Italian what they’re doing with their day they’ll say “This is it. I have class.” Essentially the idea was that there is an art to just being and life is meant to be enjoyed, not conquered. The quality of a day isn’t measured in how much you accomplished but in how present you were.

I decided it was time to really practice this. There was a café below my hostel that I had been wanting to go to all week. Every time I walked by, I saw people with decadent cannoli and hand-crafted coffee. You want to know why I hadn’t gone yet? Because I was scared. This place was fancy, and I…I am not. It looked like the type of place you’d see in a hotel I could never afford to set foot in. I didn’t know how to navigate it. I couldn’t tell whether people were sitting down on their own or seeing a host or just ordering at the counter. Out of fear of looking and feeling stupid, I avoided it. But I sat there on those balconies above it, longing to be one of the people brave enough to go in. I got fed up with myself. I was brave enough to go to a different continent on my own but not brave enough to walk into a coffee shop? Bullshit.

I finally mustered up the courage to walk in and get my damn cannoli. It was ridiculously easy. And the staff? They told me what to do. To get what I wanted all I had to do was walk through the door. That simple.

I sat there for 4 hours. I listened to the street performers, wrote in my journal, sipped my coffee, and took three hours to nibble away at my treat. I began speaking with a couple (or what I thought was a couple) at the table next to me. We would chat for a bit, then each go back to work, then chat again. They had invited me to go to this exclusive yacht marina a friend of theirs owned, but then the girl left and it was just me and the guy. I pondered back and forth, thinking about how I probably shouldn’t go. I joked that he better not be a murderer and he told me I sound American. We walked to his motorbike which was fully electric. Kinda cool. I know that you’re probably grabbing the sides of your screen right now screaming “ALEXA DO NOT GET ON THIS MOTORCYCLE” but I am going to have to give you some disappointing news. I did in fact get on the motorcycle.

You have to understand that I always have an escape plan A, B, and C. I’m not as impulsive as I come across.

All was good. It was beautiful and peaceful and a one-of-a-kind experience. I fully thought this man was in a relationship with the girl at the café until he leaned over and smelled my hair and put his hand on my back. Immediately I went in repel mode. My dad, the karate master he is, taught me how to do some serious damage with my bare hands if need be. Would I ever want to hurt a fly? No. Could I? Absolutely. It wasn’t time to pull out the karate just yet.

Amongst a number of things I said/did, I thought on my toes. What’s one thing that will repel any man when he’s trying to go after a girl? I thought, Her father. I video-chatted my dad. I told the motorcycle man I needed to go back and sort out some fake urgent family matter. Ultimately, I trust my gut and felt he was harmless, but I wasn’t going to put myself in a position to be proven wrong.

I ran up to my hostel room and shut the door behind me, finally catching my breath. What the hell just happened? I decided that was enough adventure for me today.

I went to change into warmer clothes. As I was putting my hair up the other man in my hostel room decided it was a good time to insert his opinion on me. He said “Can I be honest with you?” here we go, I thought. “You look more pretty with open hairs.” He said.

“…thanks” I replied.

I thought he said “open ears” as in, he was saying my hair looked nice while up and my ears were showing. I tried to recognize the cultural difference, that English wasn’t his first language, and that he may

have meant it as a compliment. I continued to tie my hair up and he said, “No. The other way.” And motioned hair down. Shocked and confused I thought,

What did you just say to me?
When did I ask for your opinion?

I actually had to pick my jaw up off the ground after this one. I kept my hair up in a ponytail until he checked out the next morning.

I went to the rooftop bar because after the day I’d had, a glass of wine sounded quite nice. I chatted with a new friend Joab. When it got too cold, we headed downstairs. I met someone in the lobby who struck me as familiar. He was kind-hearted and carefree. I looked down at the ground and yep, shoeless. The character they talked about! He was here! Perttu felt like a celebrity by the way people had talked about him at the hostel. He mentioned he got his phone and wallet stolen but wasn’t in any rush to figure it out. I had never met someone like this. His ability to just go with the flow was, well, jaw-dropping. I met his friends, Vincent and Felix, and many others as we played games and drank enough cheap wine to sell out the corner store.

From the good, the bad, and the jaw-dropping things I had experienced all in a day, my desire to travel was revived by the time I laid my head on my pillow that night.

Day 31

A big thing to do in Catania is hike Mount Etna, one of the most active volcanoes in the world. I had pictured a nice, calm hike with beautiful views. I wish that had been my experience.

There had been two cars of people from the hostel. Vincent, Perttu, Felix, & I were in the second car. We had planned to meet up with the other group but once we got there, we couldn’t get in touch with them.

The further we drove up the mountain the worst the visibility got.

I couldn’t see 20 feet in front of me. When I opened my car door it swung back at me, closing me in. Oh god, I thought, I already don’t want to do this. We bundled up in nothing near appropriate attire with minimal water and zero snacks. The perfect disaster.

I had never scaled a volcano before, so I thought this was normal. I hoped we had to get past this blustery part and it would be clear above it. I also trusted the others on the judgment call to hike that day because one of us, I won’t name names but his name starts with F and ends with elix, had hiked this volcano before. I figured if this was abnormal or dangerous, he would have said something. Never assume this.

After a treacherous few hours of fighting wind, getting soaked, and thinking I may possibly die, we finally made it to Rifugio Sapienza, a place for refreshments and souvenirs. I was absolutely ravenous. We ate everything on the menu, drank tea, and savored the warmth of being inside. You’d think at this point we would cut our losses and go back down. But of course not! The nearest crater was only a bit further. We grabbed a bottle of pistachio liqueur as it was the closest thing we were going to get to a blanket and trekked on. The way up was treacherous, I can’t even sugarcoat it. The way down, however, was freeing.

The happiness returning to my body in Rifugio Sapienza

In going on this trip, I had a few goals. #1 was that I wanted to have a moment where I felt truly free. Like, throw your arms out to the sides and feel this overwhelming calm and release kind of free. At the start of the year, I was in a relationship, friendships, and a town that felt like bricks strapped to my ankles. It was heavy. A repeated theme of my therapy sessions was my desire to feel free from all that. In this trip, I was seeking freedom.

Vince bringing the positivity with the smiley face he drew on a rock

At the highest point we trekked, the winds were strong, the wet air pelted my frozen face, and I could hardly see 2 feet in front of me. As we made our way back down, all those things softened.

I could feel the wind calm, the air dry, the temperature rise, and the visibility clear. At one point, Vince and I looked at each other and decided to run. We ran down the mountain, practically jumping as the wind pushed us back up. We plummeted, yelling with arms spread to catch the air. I felt free. It’s a core memory for me. Thank you for sharing that with me, Vince.

All of the misery that hiking Etna was became worth it for that single moment.

It was a symbolism for my entire year. It had to get really bad before it could get really amazing. For the fog to clear there had to be fog in the first place.

When we got back to the hostel later that afternoon, we were greeted by great surprise and worry. It seemed like everyone and their mother was talking about how they had been concerned for us and apparently, it was a really awful and dangerous day to go trekking up there….no wonder the path had been so sparse!! I was validated in my fears of dying up there.

After a day full of being sweaty, wet, cold, and beaten by wind, I needed a serious turn around. I showered, slapped on some makeup, and slipped into the nicest outfit I had. Look good, feel good. I had to know deep in my soul that I wasn’t actually a disgusting volcano troll.

I was sitting and chatting with a group of people during dinner when a friend of mine asked me to dance. I was a bit taken aback. “Here?” I said. He offered his hand and helped me from my seat.

As he took my hand it occurred to me that I didn’t know how to dance with a partner. I was a competitive dancer growing up. I did a spin into every room and got in trouble for tapping my feet beneath my chair in class. I was trained in tap, jazz, ballet, hip hop, etc. for years of my life, but when it came to a boy asking me to simply sway to the music with him, I felt like I had two left feet. I had never been asked to dance before, but I liked that he did. That was sweet.

We danced on the terrace to the musician on the street playing “The Godfather” theme on accordion for the 13,000 time that day. It was wholesome and kind and before you get ahead of yourself thinking this is the start of my great love story, it’s not. I know, bummer. And though we didn’t embark on a whirlwind romance of eloping in Europe and starting a life on a Mediterranean island like any romance novel would suggest happened, it did restore my faith that there are men who will treat me the way I deserve.

It was such a fun night in the hostel that we never even went into town. We stayed up until 5 am doing who even knows what. All I knew was I never wanted it to end.

Later that night, in reflection of a few events that happened, I got sad. I allowed other people’s actions or words to affect me. New wounds brought up old pain. I had taken too many sucker punches to the gut in the first half of the year to handle any more. The smallest thing could knock me over at this point. But I let it affect my mood and take away from the moment I was in, which I regret more than scaling an active volcano in poor conditions or jumping on a stranger’s motorcycle. I still kick myself for that.

Day 32

A much-needed recovery day for me. I sat on the rooftop with a few friends all day sipping on Peroni’s and feeling the sun hit my face. Later that day it was time to say goodbye to Poh Chuen. Poh Chuen is a kind soul who taught me a great lesson. As we were parting, he said, “Strangers are just friends we haven’t met yet.” I take that with me when I go to new places and remind myself, I have friends there, I just haven’t met them yet.

I spent the night chillin’ with new pals. We severely disrespected a wine bottle by breaking through the cork and pouring our glasses through the hole we punctured. Truly unacceptable in Italy. Shoutout to Owen for the innovative ideas.

Alexa stands on a chair on a rooftop in Catania, Italy. She has a camera in her hands and is smiling.

Day 33

Oddly enough, my favorite memories from Catania aren’t so much about Catania at all. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful place worth visiting, but my favorite moments were right in the Ostello Degli Elefanti lobby.

I felt happiness and sadness.

I met new friends and had perspective-shifting conversations.

I rolled with the punches and faced fears head on.

I learned bits of different languages and how to be content doing nothing.

I experienced chivalry to be both dead and alive.

I recognized my worth and stood up for it.

Those few days in Catania mark a lot of growth for me and it was hard to leave.

However, I was due for a change in scenery. I had a few days to kill before meeting some family in Rome, so it was time to fulfill another dream: Venice.

My friends Perttu and Joab were kind enough to drive me to the airport. They even parked the car, walked me to the door, and gave me hugs goodbye. Perttu of course, without shoes.

Off to Venice I go.

And it’s possible I didn’t spend my weekend there alone…

jaw-dropping.

Check out the scrapbook for pictures from my time in Sicily!