Sicily painting holiday: The Test Run

I think I have a mild case of whiplash after a weekend being driven around Sicily. No head-on collisions involved, thankfully, given the Sicilians' notoriously haphazard style of driving. On my frequent visits to this beautiful island I am always surprised one doesn't see pileups on every intersection-although the telltale signs of "who dares wins" driving-such as wing mirrors hanging limply or completely missing-are a fairly common sight. But traffic was not responsible for the ache in my neck. It's the countryside that's to blame. There's too many picture postcard sights. Sailing along country roads that cut a straight path through endless olive groves which suddenly part to reveal a tree-lined gravel driveway leading to a dreamy farmhouse.  Or winding up and down hills covered with knotted trees clinging precariously to the slopes, I catch a glimpse of horses standing sleepily in spots of shade. Its all flying by too quickly but we're trying to cover a lot of ground in the 2 day visit. We're on a reconnaissance trip visiting several locations for our forthcoming painting weekend in May.

We're in Noto scouting for spots to paint. It's a difficult one. Spoilt for choice. This hilltop city is basically a one horse town setup but with a distinctly upmarket feel to it. .a bit of a medieval Millionaire's Row look to it. The main stretch features some magnificent buildings with the essential massive Duomo cathedral taking centre stage. After I settle on one position and set myself up to paint, a young lad sidles up to me and puts his hand out. Chattering away in unintelligible street banter, he's trying his luck with me.  I banter back equally unintelligible to him. Shortly after, an old woman appears rattling a tin can. So much for Millionaire's Row.

I noticed this glaring discrepancy throughout our journey across the Sicilian landscape. While our driver and guide, Mario Spiteri, with whose company we are collaborating to organise the painting holiday, was impressing us with his indepth knowledge of all things Sicilian, I had question marks forming ever deeper creases on my forehead with each snippet of information that he threw at us. We drive through the region of Pachino famous for its cherry tomatoes, the undulating valleys around Gairratano noted for its delicious sweet onions. Everywhere, acres of citrus orchards with oranges fattening on the branch, and olive groves spreading out as far as the eye can see. Vineyards with their plentiful vines laid out in orderly lines incubating their nectar of the gods. This glorious landscape is Kingdom Come in my bible. And yet, scattered everywhere in the middle of nowhere are quaint and iconically  idyllic farmhouses with caved in roofs. Abandoned and surrendering their former industrious hearts to the encroaching swarm of wild shrubs. What's going on? Equally disturbing in being so commonplace are the half-built concrete structures standing vacantly by the wayside, like the skeletons of hope. As if the contractor suddenly halted works halfway through because he got wind of a distant aunt having died and he needed to rush off to attend the reading of her will. These scars on an otherwise splendid landscape whisper darkly, but I can't understand their incongruity. So I tip my tourist hat and move on. The intoxicating charm of Sicily prevails.

The next stop on our scouting trip is the idyllic seaside village of Marsamemi. Some sources suggest the name is derived from Arabic meaning port of turtledoves. Marsamemi, for its size, is a big teaser. It's really only a mini marina waterfront with a few boathouses and some rusting boats perched among reeds, and a large enclosed square which is pure eye candy. Its full of cute cafes and restaurants with pastel coloured outdoor furniture and boutiques with expensive linen garments hanging temptingly on their facades, and two baroque churches. One of the churches looks ancient and derelict, standing in silent testimony to a bygone era.

The weather has taken on a bad temper and the sea just beyond the square is churning itself against the rocky shore. We're hanging onto our hair as we set about preparing some sketches. The magic of this place must be loaded because even in the grey wind, there's something so romantic about it.

The next day we visit Palazzolo Acreide. It being a Sunday the cafes on the main piazza are buzzing with local gents dressed in their best, all looking

Well that's settled then. We finalise our rekkie notes, and head for the ferry terminus. No sooner has the ferry pointed its nose out to sea heading towards Malta, homeward bound, and I'm thinking I can't wait to come back. Roll on May!

View more pics of the locations we visited here

To view full programme click here

Read Jeni blog about our test-run trip HERE

Your art tutors on this adventure will be Jeni Caruana and C.S.Lawrence.

Join us-its bound to be a great adventure!