Beatrix pottering: The tuna factory and the temple

It was lovely waking up to blue sky over the mountains - it was going to be a hot one. After the usual suncream arguments, we headed back into the village to try to find the beach. We'd been warned that the path was not buggy friendly so we were prepared with the sling - and it was a good thing too. The path was tiny, rocky, and overgrown with wildflowers, but so pretty. We made our way down, and even further down, very, very carefully, with Jemima's feet brushing the tops of the flowers. And then we were there. Apparently the owner of an tuna canning factory had realised, a little while ago, that after the demise of his tuna business he could make money by charging for access to his rather lovely cove. So for the princely sum of €7 we were allowed through the barrier and down another pretty path towards the sea.

The old tuna factory was in fact an attractive building - rather more so than most modern Sicilian buildings which seem to have been constructed with zero attempt at design - just square blocks. And the cove was beautiful - there was a stone slipway into bright green and blue rocky-bottomed sea, with waves splashing in, and cliffs around, two of which had old towers on them. I went for a swim - Kevin assured me that the sea was warmer here because of currents or something, which sort of helped - and it was wonderful (but still freezing). But amazingly, Jemima decided she wanted to join in too. To start with every time her feet touched the water she curled them high, shrieking; but gradually she got used to it, and I even dunked her a few times. We got out, but she decided she'd enjoyed it so much that she wanted to get back in, so we had a jolly time kicking our feet in the waves. For a canning factory, unexpectedly picturesque, and a lovely play.

But (in this case), what goes down, must go up. And it was hard work. Kevin went behind to break our fall, and Jemima and I plodded our way upwards. "Come on Mummy, you can do it!", she exhorted, from her comfortable vantage point. But with much puffing, we made it, and headed to the friendly village square cafe for a gelato and/ or beer as a reward. Then back to Beatrix for lunch in our car park field, and onwards to the next adventure. (But first, a return to the cove to retrieve Jemima's swimming costume - luckily we could drive to the entrance but it was still another down and up for me; but thankfully Jemima-less.)

There was one more ruin in this part of Sicily that I wanted to see: the remains of a Greek temple from the 5th Century BC, on a hillside. It wasn't far, but Jemima fell asleep on the drive, so Kevin nobly offered to miss the culture and stay with her while I immersed myself. We parked, and I headed off - uphill. Again. It was steep, again; but thankfully not too far. The temple is poised on a mountainside in solitary splendour, with gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside, and I had a lovely time wandering around the skeleton of the structure (if only you could go inside, I think you'd get another depth of experience entirely). It didn't take too long though (I missed out the rest of the site, which was some distance away); so we were shortly on our way back to the beach.

A different beach this time, that we'd seen on our drive: a very pretty bay, but unusually stony. So a different sort of fun: throwing stones into a bucket; making towers of stones; and a very nice walk along the sandy water's edge. Beautiful water, beautiful surroundings. Then a little drive along the coast to investigate a possible restaurant with a view for dinner. On closer inspection it didn't look great, but the layby on which the restaurant was situated included a few other things: straw basket sellers; an old man selling herbs and honey from the bonnet of a Lada; and the Sicilian equivalent of a kebab van. We decided to try some Sicilian street food: spicy sausage, fresh tomato and fried onion in a toasted roll. Delicious, and Kevin said the best value for money meal we'd had in Sicily.

Then time to find our night spot. Rather than going back, we went on, around the whole of the bay which had San Vito Lo Capo as its top left tip. I was sad to leave that bit of Sicily behind: it's so pretty, and has been my favourite area. But the sun was setting; the sky and cliffs were pink; the sea in the bay was aquamarine; and the road was good - a consoling combination. We arrived at our final recommended campsite not far from Palermo just before closing, and found ourselves a pitch for the night. Two and a bit days until our ferry, and hopefully a nice beach and some sunshine to enjoy it with. When I think of Sicily in the future, I will think particularly of the places we went today.