The Sicilian inland smells different. It’s a strange blend of baked dough, salty sea air, and something indescribable—perhaps the whispers of old stories that have never been spoken aloud. That morning, we set our sights on Segesta—an ancient city of the Elymians, a mysterious tribe said to have come from Troy.
That’s the legend. The reality? Mountains, stones, silence, and the overwhelming feeling that every step you take is on ground where decisions were once made that no one remembers today.
The Temple of Segesta
The turnoff to Archeo Park is just past the highway tunnel above Castellammare del Golfo. The temple of Segesta stands alone on a hill—its towering columns are massive, majestic, yet forever unfinished.
Archaeologists believe that the Elymians built it as a façade, just to appear powerful in the ancient world. Maybe it worked.
Today, tourists wander quietly around it, the occasional click of a camera breaking the silence. The sun is so relentless that even the gods have probably taken the day off.
Sicily’s Ancient Theater
But Segesta isn’t just a temple. A little higher up, on another hill, is an ancient theater. A shuttle bus—looking like it might fall apart at any moment—managed to get us there in one piece.
And then—silence.
The ruins of a palace and a stone-carved amphitheater overlook a landscape so stunning it might have distracted ancient audiences more than the performances themselves.
Sitting in the upper rows feels like being on Sicily’s rooftop. And the wind? It has played the leading role here for over two thousand years.
Behind the theater lie the remnants of an ancient city—fragments of walls, columns, and old clay vessels that once may have held olives. As I wander among them, I try to imagine the lives of the Elymians.
What were they like?
What did they talk about around the fire at night?
Did they prefer fine wine, or were they strong coffee drinkers?
Calatafimi Segesta
In the afternoon, we set off for the nearby town of Calatafimi Segesta, which seemed to be melting in the heat.
The streets were deserted, as if the entire town had received a collective message from the universe:
“Don’t go outside today.”
Only two elderly women in black dresses and a few lazy cats sat in the shade of the main square.
The only restaurant was open, but the waiter seemed surprised to see customers. He brought us pasta that tasted like a dream—homemade, simple, perfect.
After lunch, I climbed up to the hilltop castle. The road was empty, except for cats shifting lazily from one shadow to another.
The castle itself was mostly ruins—just walls and a few arches—but the view was breathtaking:
Rolling hills, vineyards, and a highway in the distance, winding like a serpent trying to escape its own shadow.
Terme Segestane: Sicily’s Natural Thermal Baths
What could be better after a scorching day than soaking in 38°C thermal waters?
Just below the highway, we found a hidden natural hot spring.
Even the ancient historian Diodorus Siculus wrote about the healing powers of these waters:
“Many people afflicted with illnesses found their bodies restored to vitality beyond all expectations.” (Diodorus, IV, 200)
The Terme Segestane has three sulfuric hot springs, naturally emerging at 44°C and 46°C. Two are inside a paid spa area, but the third, called “Bagno delle Femmine,” is completely wild and free. That’s where we went.
Sicily Panoramas
As we left, I thought to myself—Sicily is exactly like this.
A place where the past blends with the present, where you’re never quite sure whether you’re visiting the living or the ghosts.
And if I stayed longer, maybe—just maybe—I’d learn to understand the language of ancient stones and the silent wisdom of the cats who seem to know far more than they let on.
