Onroad and offroad from Brucoli to Noto

Torgit: It's been quiet on our blog for a while, but today was another one of those days that I have to tell you about.

Blog and Instagram

Writing a blog is more work than we thought and sometimes we simply have too bad a network in the evening, or just don't feel like blogging for long after a long day off-road. There's nothing more annoying than when you've uploaded all your texts, photos and videos to the blog, always saved everything nicely, and at some point the fluctuating network is so bad that saving doesn't work. I've already messed up a whole blog article like that once, and 3-4 hours of work were gone. Even though the mobile network here in Sicily feels better than in Germany, our sleeping areas are so isolated and remote that we have very unstable or no network at all. I have "loved" voice messages ever since. For me, an impatient person, nothing is worse than when I see that I have a voice message and can only hear it very haltingly or not at all because the network simply doesn't allow it. Long live the good old text message.

We have discovered Instagram for ourselves. I can quickly upload a photo or a 15-second video as a story during the day. However, the posts are limited to 256 characters and sometimes that's not enough for me. I also feel sorry for our blog, which we have built up with so much love. So if you always want to be up to date, it's better to look at Instagram.

Onroad into the Val di Noto

But back to yesterday: I (Torgit) want to go to Noto. Onroad. I've heard a lot about it, the Val de Noto is supposed to be very beautiful. It's even a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Marc finds us a nice route and a spot for the next night. The route should only take 90 minutes, so we take it easy and enjoy our breakfast at our beautiful spot in Brucoli with a view of Mama Etna, as the Sicilians affectionately call their volcano.

Then we feed the satnav and off we go. On the way, we stop at one of the typical fruit and vegetable stalls and top up our stocks. The seller knows his job. Each of my orders is questioned: 'When would you like to eat the avocado?', 'Should the apples be hard or floury?' I enjoy the whole thing and end up buying more than I wanted. But it doesn't matter, because we eat so much fruit and vegetables that the shopping lasts for a maximum of 3 days.

Shortcut to Val di Noto

But now on to the road. The route is very beautiful and pleasant to drive. We are much higher than we thought and have a wonderful view. Again and again we see orange plantations. It goes uphill and downhill. Suddenly we see a sign near Melilli: The road is closed in 7km. OK. We've seen that several times before. We've seen it before. We take a closer look. We drive on. A little more carefully now. Suddenly the road in front of us is closed. Not only is there a sign, but a crash barrier blocks the road in front of us. But there is a narrow unpaved path to the right. We take a careful look, it looks good. This type of bypass is typical for Sicily. The actual road, usually a bridge, is closed because it is dilapidated, and a kind of beaten track forms as a bypass, which becomes more well-trodden over time and is therefore also feasible for our van. From here you now have a view of the old stone bridge, and we are glad that it is closed.

When I say dilapidated, I mean dilapidated. We have already seen large half-collapsed bridges here in Sicily.

The route continues nicely up and down the hills. At some point, the navigation system changes and calculates a different route. Why? Have we missed a turn-off? We turn back. Yes, there is a little road here. I'm skeptical, it looks a bit narrow. Marc is thrilled, the satnav shows lots of tight hairpin bends, finally a road to his liking again.

I don't want to be a spoilsport. We turn off onto this 'road' and drive on.

The narrow road winds its way down the mountain in tight hairpin bends. Some of the hairpin bends are so narrow that we have to go backwards and forwards. With my fear of heights, I become increasingly quiet, the slope is clearly too close for me. Marc is having fun. The road gets narrower and narrower, and at some point the asphalt stops. We drive through orange plantations, the road becomes so narrow that I can pick the oranges out of the window. Why exactly did I buy oranges at the fruit stand this morning?

Off-road into the Val di Noto

At some point, Marc doesn't find the path quite so funny anymore, gets out and takes a look at the off-road track ahead of us. He comes back and says: "Just this one narrow section ahead of us, then the path widens. We drive on under low-hanging branches. They hang so low that I'm worried about our awning.

Marc's comment on this: You didn't want them anyway. Well, we've never used them either, or Marc just puts the solar panel on them. But never mind. On the rest of the route, I can't shake the feeling that Marc only got off the bike earlier to reassure me. In any case, the route doesn't get any better. Marc gets out again and examines the path: "There's a narrow section up ahead, let's see if we can get through it, then the path will be wider."

Sounds like a tighter version of A. I get out and let Marc in. It really gets so narrow here that Marc has to drive with the outer tire on the wall to the abyss so that we can fit through. Next to it is a steep descent. But it works. We are delighted. And of course we don't have a photo or video of it again, because in these tricky situations we concentrate fully on functioning and getting out of there in one piece. I always wonder how other bloggers do it when I see spectacular videos on Instagram or other blogs.

After this point, the path really improves and shortly afterwards we come to a stop sign and another road. Stop signs are always good. We stop for a moment and take a deep breath. On the other road, a small car comes hurtling down the hill, honking its horn. The driver looks at us in amazement and disappears behind the next hairpin bend. We already know this look. Sometimes, when we get stuck in traffic jams, especially at traffic circles, I can't shake the feeling that we are causing the traffic jam. Because our car is so conspicuous and all the other drivers want to have a look first.

On-road and off-road - it's all in the mix

Marc looks at his satnav to see whether we are going uphill or downhill. He decides to go uphill. I am skeptical. Even though I have very poor orientation, if in doubt I would always drive downhill in search of a wider road.

But since Marc is the better navigator, we drive uphill. Although the road is paved, it soon narrows again. We look at each other and understand each other. We turn around at the next entrance to an abandoned house. Which is not easy here. The angle is sharp and there's a ditch next to it. I turn in and we go back and forth. Again and again. A tire hangs halfway in the air above the ditch. Thank goodness the edge holds. We made it. We drive back. 3 stop signs further on, we are relaxed again on an easy road. A quick look at the sat nav and on we go. I wonder which sat nav Marc used on the way, because we had no network in the mountains. Oh right, Mapout. Now I realize that this is an off-road sat nav.

And we have survived another adventure. But let's be honest: these are the days you remember for a long time. Or do you still remember the nights when you slept well?

Change of plan

We have deviated slightly from our original route and are looking for a new spot for the night. And now it becomes clear once again why we plan so little. Things usually turn out differently than we think anyway.

The Riserva Naturale Cavagrande del Cassibile is an obvious choice. It's still an hour's drive away. You can almost always find a quiet place to sleep in these nature reserves.

Shortly beforehand, we see feral pigs on a plot of land from the road. This restaurant is supposed to be a great place to eat. Unfortunately it is closed at the moment. Then we reach a meadow where parking is permitted. Normally we always park wild and free. But why complicate things, today it can be simple. The planned 90-minute drive has once again turned into a 5-hour day trip.

Apart from us, there is only one vehicle there, a Dutch Mercedes Sprinter. We say hello and lo and behold, it's Olliepedition. We've seen them on Instagram before. They've just returned from a hike. We exchange tips about the valley and our last pitches. We spontaneously decide to stay here and hike through the gorge tomorrow.

Onroad or offroad?

These are Marc's thoughts on the day:

Where does on-road end and off-road begin?

Is it just me, or is it easy to get torn apart when it comes to off-roading if photos or films aren't spectacular enough? High-format filmers are worse than hotshots, aren't they? And then there are those Instagrammers, aren't they bad?

Isn't it always said "leave the beaten track..." and "he who walks in the footsteps of others..."? But it is also said that "no master has ever fallen from the sky". 

Who really drives it off-road? Is that already off-road in the picture? And who manages to take spectacular photos or videos of it? If I manage to take a photo in a situation where I almost wet my pants beforehand, it looks absolutely unspectacular later on. You can barely walk up or down a slope, but it looks rather flat in the photos.

And in such situations, I'm usually more concerned with driving than with the gopro or camera. And my sweetheart is busy instructing me.

When the navigation system goes wrong

Yesterday we had another situation like this in Sicily. Suddenly the sat nav changes. I wish I had listened to it. But I just wanted to drive the beautiful winding road.

At the beginning, the road is still asphalted and winds its way steeply downhill through olive groves. But soon the asphalt turns to gravel or concrete, the olive groves to oranges and the road becomes a path. There are no turning points.

Alternative: several hundred meters backwards, steeply uphill. I think about our gearbox and try to go forwards. At every bend, we have to go backwards and forwards several times. On one side, the path is bordered by a rising wall, on the other by retaining walls.

Even a dry riverbed has to be crossed. The underbody protection is indeed starting to set in. But it doesn't matter, there is still gravel to be seen. The road is repeatedly bordered by thorn bushes or orange trees. The awning and water pipe mutate into a picking machine. At one point, the "road" is so severely bordered by stones protruding from the wall that it seems almost impossible to continue despite the mirrors being folded in. On the left, my tires are not only on the retaining wall made of field stones, but sometimes slightly over it. In the end it fits.

You know when women stop ranting and become very, very quiet?

When you know there's no turning back here? No ADAC or tractor will get you out of here? And if you tip over and survive, will you at least lose your home? And there's no video or spectacular photos either.

At least we were rewarded in the end. These were the most delicious blood oranges I've eaten in a long time. And my world's best co-pilot and wife didn't scold me later either. On the contrary, she high-fived me. She wants more, doesn't she? 😉

But is that still on-road or already off-road?