We woke up at our airport accommodation near Zagreb and immediately realised that we had absolutely nothing for breakfast.
Eating at the airport would have been the obvious solution, but the food there looked both expensive and badly reviewed. Instead, we came up with a much better plan: take the 50-cent city bus to a McDonald’s about two kilometres away, have breakfast there and then continue to the airport.
We planned everything around the 10:35 bus, which led to some frantic packing to make sure we reached the stop in time.
Then we waited.
The same taxi driver passed us two or three times, asking each time whether we needed a taxi. Each time we said no. We were fine. We had a bus.
Except the scheduled time came and went, and there was still no bus.
Eventually the taxi driver came past again and told us the buses were not running because of a marathon. We were not entirely convinced. George could not find any confirmation that our bus had actually been cancelled, so we waited another 15 minutes.
Still nothing.
By then the McDonald’s plan was dead. Taking a Bolt there and then another one to the airport would defeat the whole point of trying to save money on breakfast, so we booked one straight to the airport instead.
As Hugo booked it, he said that, knowing our luck, the bus would probably arrive the moment we left.
It did not happen immediately. It waited until we were in the final 500 metres before the airport, then appeared from the opposite direction. By then it must have been close to half an hour late anyway, so we made peace with our fate.
We still had about an hour before bag drop opened. Another look at the airport food confirmed that we could not quite bring ourselves to pay those prices, so breakfast became the remains of a bag of chips and some old peanuts left over from our hike in Slovenia.
Then Caro wondered whether the airport might have a lounge.
We opened the Visa DragonPass app we had originally downloaded at Dubai Airport. Zagreb did have a lounge, although the description promised only “snacks”, and the photos did little to clarify whether that meant proper food or literally a bowl of crisps.
Some online investigation suggested there should at least be something more substantial than chips, so we decided not to buy anything and waited until we could go through security.
The gamble paid off spectacularly.
The lounge had croissants, Danish pastries, burek, sandwiches, pizza slices, coffee and cold drinks. Then they brought out pasta with chicken and white sauce.
Hugo proceeded to stuff himself accordingly.
It was arguably better than the lounge we had used in Dubai. So, in the end, missing the bus had done us a favour.
Then it was time for another first: our first-ever Ryanair flight.
We had heard all the stories about Ryanair charging extra for absolutely everything, so we had booked only what we needed. We did not choose seats or add any extras, used boarding passes on the app, and paid for one 10-kilogram and one 20-kilogram checked bag between us.
That meant a little luggage shuffling beforehand. Instead of our usual split of roughly 12 and 13 kilograms, we repacked into one bag of about 16 kilograms and another just under 10. Otherwise, the entire experience was surprisingly painless.
Because we had not paid to choose seats, we were split up. That seems to be more or less expected on Ryanair, and it was not really a problem.
Everything was efficient, the flight was quicker than expected and, apart from a few bumpy patches, completely uneventful. For all Ryanair’s reputation, our first experience was actually very good.
Palermo Airport felt noticeably smaller when we arrived. Our bags appeared quickly and, importantly, in one piece.
Now came the next cost-saving decision.
Our guesthouse in Castellammare del Golfo had offered to collect us from the airport for €60. Alternatively, we could take the Russo bus for €12 each.
The only catch was that the next bus would leave about three and a half hours later.
We decided that saving roughly €48 was worth a few hours of hanging around.
We settled in for some serious airport people-watching. We took turns walking around, drank water, worked on previous blog posts, and Caro listened to her audiobook.
Since we had finally arrived in Sicily, we also decided that we should eat at least one properly Sicilian thing.
Enter our first arancina: pistachio and mozzarella, €5, and absolutely worth it.
Amazeballs.
At around 21:10 we went outside to wait for the bus. It arrived only a few minutes late and, despite a sizeable queue forming, we managed to get our bags underneath and find seats without any drama.
There was a ridiculously beautiful sunset while we waited. We could not quite see the sun setting over the sea, but the clouds went wild with colour, and their reflections in the bus windows made the scene even better.
After waiting three and a half hours at the airport, the 35-minute trip to Castellammare del Golfo passed very quickly.
Then came probably the nicest little touch of the day.
Our host had offered to collect us from the bus stop for free. When the bus pulled in, his car was already waiting. In fact, it was the only car there to collect anyone, and we seemed to be the only passengers receiving a personal pickup.
For a few minutes, we felt rather VIP.
Our host was extremely friendly and chatted to us during the drive. Then he somehow squeezed his car through some of the narrowest cobbled streets imaginable and delivered us into the old part of Castellammare del Golfo.
The accommodation was one of the most unusual places we had stayed. It had old patterned cement-tile floors, a huge exposed rock arch running through the room, and the feeling that we were living inside the old town rather than in an ordinary apartment.
At the same time, it had everything we needed: a full kitchen, stove, fridge, microwave, washing machine, couches, coffee pods and all the usual comforts.
They had also left us a welcome tray with Nutella, Kellogg’s cereal, dry biscotti-style breakfast breads, croissants, juice, milk and coffee.
For good measure, there was even a little handmade lemon fridge magnet as a gift.
It was a genuinely warm welcome.
There was, however, still one problem.
We had not had dinner.
On the drive in, we had mentioned pizza. Our host immediately pointed out a particular pizzeria as we passed it and said that it was good, that they ate there themselves, and that the chef was apparently also a pizza teacher.
That sounded good enough for us.
The restaurant stood on one of the streets that becomes pedestrian-only at night, beneath illuminated arches and surrounded by a proper summer-festival atmosphere.
It was also absolutely packed.
We asked for a table for two and were told it would be fine; we would just have to wait a little.
“A little” became quite a while.
The man running the front frantically rearranged tables as larger groups with reservations kept arriving—six people, then five, then four. Every time he passed us, he made an apologetic gesture and promised, “Soon, soon.”
We were not particularly bothered. The street was so busy that there was plenty to watch, with people streaming past constantly. Castellammare del Golfo felt far livelier than the quiet little beach town we had imagined before arriving.
Eventually a small table for two became available and we were waved in.
Since it was our first night in Sicily, we decided to do it properly. Hugo ordered a 500-millilitre Messina beer, while Caro had an Aperol Spritz. At €6, it already felt pleasantly cheap compared with some of the €10 spritzes we had seen in Croatia.
Then we each ordered a pizza: a Capricciosa with tomato, mozzarella, cooked ham, artichokes, mushrooms, würstel and olives; and a Rucola with tomato, mozzarella, prosciutto crudo, rocket, Parmesan and scamorza.
They arrived surprisingly quickly and did not disappoint. We ate until we were full, then had the remaining four slices boxed to take back to the apartment.
After dinner we walked a little farther along the pedestrian street to soak up the atmosphere. We briefly considered heading down to the harbour to investigate the evening stalls and whatever else might be happening there.
By then it was already around 23:00, which for us is definitely not an early night.
When we returned to the apartment to drop off the leftover pizza, tiredness won. Instead of going out again, we went straight to bed.
Not a bad first day in Sicily at all.
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