A month in Hammamet, Tunisia taught us that travel isnāt always rainbows and butterflies. Between illness, stubborn weather, budget friction, and a steady undercurrent of hypervigilance, we learned what it means when a place doesnāt hold you gentlyāwhile still finding gifts in rooftop light, shared food, and a lightning storm weāll never forget.
The storm did not pass through Hammamet.
It stayed.
Over days of relentless rain and unbroken lightning, the city flattened under water and sound. Streets vanished, thunder struck without warning, and buildings remembered what they were made for. This was not spectacleāit was endurance.
Sometimes crossing a border is more than paperwork or geography. On a ferry from Sicily to Tunisia, we found ourselves inside a system built not for comfort or spectacle, but for continuityāmoving people, families, and the weight of daily life across the Mediterranean. This is a reflection on witnessing that crossing from the inside.
We didnāt set out to count the miles. But when we realized our feet had carried us almost exactly the distance from Sicily to Tunisia, the journey suddenly became something deeper than travel. This is a story about walking, migration, and the quiet moment when you realize youāve crossed into a new life.
Mount Etna is more than a volcano ā sheās a living, breathing force of nature that shapes weather, land, and the people who live beside her. This is a story about fog and fire, fear and courage, descending into silence, and learning that creation and destruction often come from the same place.
After days of rain and quiet walks through Scicli, our first true wildlife encounter didnāt come from the ground. It arrived suddenly from the skyāand was gone just as fast.
I never thought food would be the thing that surprised me most in Sicilyāuntil Scicli quietly changed the way I eat, and the way I pay attention.
Scicli doesnāt quiet down after midnightāit shifts. As the town continues into the night, its cats wait patiently in the stone, moving on their own terms and reminding us that not everything reveals itself when we expect it to.
Friendly reminder to always respect the local wildlife and strays!
This Is Scicli is a story about a town that held us still.
About quiet mornings, worn stone streets, and the strange comfort of not needing to rush anywhere at all.
