Palermo Day 1: The Chaotic Streets of Palermo and Octopus Beaks

The Metro train between Messina to Palermo and with Cefalù being the second last stop, you could not book tickets therefore I knew it was going to be difficult in grabbing a seat. As the train pulled up we both agreed to grab what seat you could and don't hold a seat for the other.

Leanne got a seat further into the carriage, and I sat on a fold-down seat near the doors minding all the luggage. Luckily the trip is only forty five minutes so I could put up with it, little did I know that when the train pulled into Palermo, I had selected the seat next to the platform door, so I was first out!

Arriving in Palermo, we made our way to our apartment. We zigzagged across busy intersections, along cobblestone roads, dodging and weaving cars and motorcycles on narrow roads with barely a footpath. Welcome to the Palermo!

Once at the apartment, we were pleasantly surprised at how spacious it is. It’s only a one bedroom, but it has a full kitchen, dining and air-conditioning.

Churches in Piazza Bellini, Palermo, Sicily

The Chaotic Streets of Palermo

After we unpacked, Leanne wanted to head to the famous Mercato di Ballarò (Palermo Markets) which she’d heard so much about. They were supposed to be loud and over the top, with plenty of food and stalls. If you know me, I’m not one for markets as they all repeat themselves, but hey, I'll tag along.

The walk towards the old town should have been about 15 minutes, but it took longer. Google had done an update on my phone, which threw my maps out, and my phone’s battery was getting really hot.

Palermo is a grand city—it's packed with gothic structures, statues, and incredible old architecture—but the streets are a total mess. The sidewalks are marred by the locals selling the same crap every thirty meters. You’ve got shops dumping their excess goods onto the road, while bars and restaurants fight for space on the crowded footpaths. You have touts annoying you with their merchandise as well.

Add in the hordes of tour groups, and it’s a mission just to move. To top it off, seeing one of the oldest piazzas wrapped in temporary fencing for renovations was a real disappointment—no fountains running, just construction.

Mercato di Ballarò (Palermo Markets)

Then we hit the markets—narrow alleys choked with hundreds of stalls and tarps pulled across for shade. It was a health inspector's nightmare: rows of fish and octopus just sitting out on countertops in the heat. The noise was ridiculous. You had vegetable vendors screaming to attract customers, guys on microphones yelling over them to sell seafood, and others blasting Italian top ten hits five times louder, trying to get people to sing along while they grilled.

They were dishing up everything: grilled intestines in rolls, horse hamburgers, and heaps of seafood. It was shoulder-to-shoulder madness. We finally managed to snag a seat and ordered calamari, an arancini, bruschetta, and some granitas.

The meal was a disaster. The "calamari" turned out to be baby octopus—and it was just warm. The bruschetta was basically raw bread with some tomato slapped on top. Then, while chewing on the cold octopus, I felt something sharp. I pulled a black beak out of my mouth. Then another. And another. Calamari is Italian for squid—they can’t even get their cephalopods right!

When we tried to pay, the lady thought we already had. We told her no, so she brought over a bloke, we explained it again, and they just looked at each other, smiled, and walked off. We sat there for ten minutes with the music blaring and some girl who wasn't even in her teen years, riding a motorbike around the market, all we wanted to do was hand over money, but nobody came back. Eventually, I just said, “Stuff this, let’s go.” We walked right past the guy and he just smiled again. The meal was crap, so I didn’t feel guilty. I was just glad to get out of there.

At this stage of the day Palermo is at the bottom of my list for places to visit.

Next stop was a lovely old church and grounds where we ducked in and had a look. Then we moved onto the royal palace, where there was a photo exhibition on which Leanne wanted to see. Elliott Erwitt was his name; he became famous for:

“Erwitt's signature style—decisive compositions laced with visual puns—captured both iconic figures (Marilyn Monroe, Richard Nixon, Che Guevara) and everyday absurdities (dogs chasing umbrellas, children framed by telephone wires).”

Not my style, but it kept me amused until something did catch my eye. Downstairs were archaeological ruins, encased in glass, old pottery and artefacts from before "old mate" was born. Also, the old walls and hidden passages under Palermo, this was great history.

Palermo Streets Come Alive at Night

It was hot and muggy, so we set our maps back to our Apartment,  pulled into a bar for a drink, grabbed a few takeaways, and got back to the cool of the room. On the way back, there were plenty of restaurants for dinner just down from us, which will suit for tonight as we won’t have to fight the hordes and trinket shops again.

We both had a lovely pizza at a restaurant called “Cagliostro” which wasn’t too far from us. Except for a pesky accordionist who played right in front of me, I told Leanne not to encourage him, but no, she kept going, then he wanted a tip and kept playing until we gave him one! We then finished off the night in a beautiful dessert shop a couple of doors down.

Palermo side cobblestone streets all come to life at night with piazzas full of diners, lights, sidewalk dining and musicians.

So far, I've rated Palermo slightly above Messina. It has all the elements to be a classy, historic city, but it’s ruined by unnecessary stalls on both sides of the road selling cheap junk from China. It makes the place look cheap and nasty—a perfect example of the saying, “you can't see the forest for the trees.” The cheap stalls completely overshadow the city's true historic grandeur.

I'm hoping I can upgrade Palermo’s score tomorrow by seeing the beautiful parts of this town, I really didn’t take any photos today as it would have only been the tops of peoples heads. I’m sure Leanne has a different perspective than me.