Our Memorable Family Retreat in Sicily

Our Memorable Family Retreat in Sicily

It all started on a cozy Sunday dinner at my mother-in-law's house in Long Island, where the aroma of red wine and meatballs enveloped us. Out of the blue, she announced that her youngest grandson, one of 13 grandchildren, was getting married in Sicily. In that moment, we decided we needed to find a spacious home where the whole family could gather in our ancestral homeland.

We were looking for a large space to accommodate five adults and three children, along with our shared dream of living like the locals in Sicily. When my husband discovered Villa Arcile—a stunning villa with seven bedrooms and six bathrooms nestled among lemon groves in the tranquil hills of Brucoli—we knew our plans were set.

A House Full of Charm

Months later, as we unloaded our luggage from two rental cars outside the Italian villa, the clattering of suitcases was drowned out by the joyful laughter of children. The scene before us was even more beautiful than we had imagined. The heart of the home featured a semi-circular courtyard with seven arched doorways, inviting us to seek our own adventures. On some days, we would turn right and find ourselves on a perfect terracotta terrace where we sipped Grillo wine under the sunset.

On other days, we would head left for lively ping-pong matches near the garden, where olive and lemon trees swayed gently, providing shade for chickens scratching around their coop. Yet, most days, we ventured straight down a small staircase leading to the protected pool area.

The Relaxing Pool Area

The rectangular pool, 26 feet long, was surrounded by sun loungers, umbrellas, and an outdoor kitchen. We spent our days splashing in the water, sipping cocktails, grilling fish, and sending the kids into the orchards to pick lemons for our meals. My daughter learned to jump into the water, and everyone counted down as she bravely leaped into the warm embrace of her grandmother, laughter echoing around them.

Discovering Sicilian Life

Inside the house, we experienced the true beauty of Sicilian living—wrought iron beds, geometric tiled floors, delicate curtains, and sturdy wooden furniture. The bedroom layout was perfect for our family; two young families took over the upper floor, while my niece and nephew excitedly occupied the only room with two beds. My mother-in-law, traveling solo, chose a quiet bedroom on the ground floor, a retreat from her years of wrangling small children.

The kitchen, though small, was fully equipped, allowing us to fry fresh eggs from the morning's chickens and serve late dinners of abundant pasta. While the bedrooms remained cool, the common areas lacked air conditioning, so we often retreated to the pool, where the kids were thrilled by their good fortune.

Exploring the Surroundings

Whenever we wanted to escape the heat, we took day trips to nearby towns like Syracuse, Taormina, and Catania, all within a short drive and brimming with shops, stunning coastal views, and excellent cuisine. But we always returned home happily, stepping into a warm house where the kids would immediately shed their clothes and dash to the outdoor shower as dusk and mosquitoes settled in.

A Special Birthday Celebration

On the evening of July 17th, our last night at the villa, my daughter turned two. The Airbnb host suggested hiring a private chef, and we decided to arrange a birthday feast. His team prepared a perfect dinner, timed just as the kids smashed the piñata we had hung in the yard, candy raining down as we settled at the outdoor dining table for appetizers.

The chef served a traditional caponata with eggplant (a recipe passed down from his grandmother) and grilled tuna on a bed of potatoes and ripe tomatoes. The look on my daughter’s face when she saw her birthday cake, complete with a party hat sliding off her head as she sang a silly “Happy Birthday” with her cousins, will forever be one of my most cherished memories. The next morning, as we packed the car, nobody seemed ready to leave. My niece begged for five more minutes to say goodbye to the chickens, while my nephew insisted on picking one more lemon from the garden.

As we drove away from Brucoli, heading toward the wedding destination in Scopello, I suddenly realized I had left my swimsuit hanging under the fig tree. Panic set in—I would have to go back.