Cefalù is where Sicily squeezes a medieval town between a rock and a beach. The Rocca, a limestone crag, rises a steep couple of hundred metres straight behind the old centre, and the cathedral sits at its foot, a heavy, golden-grey Norman building with two square towers that you can see from the coastal highway long before you reach the town. According to tradition King Roger II promised to build it after surviving a storm at sea, and work began in 1131. Whatever the truth of the vow, the church is a statement of power by a Norman king who ruled Sicily and wanted it to look Mediterranean, not merely northern.
Inside, the apse holds the great mosaic of Christ Pantocrator, a huge, stern, gold figure with an open book, made by Byzantine craftsmen. Cefalù and the Norman buildings of Palermo are listed together by UNESCO as Arab-Norman Palermo and the Cathedral Churches of Cefalù and Monreale, a reminder that this island blended Latin, Greek and Arab cultures in a way that nowhere else in Europe quite did.
The riding to get here is a pleasure when you pick the right roads. The coast road, the SS113, follows the Tyrrhenian shore with sea views but plenty of towns and traffic, and the fast motorway behind it saves time. If you want fun, turn inland into the Madonie mountains, where roads climb through oak, ash and beech to villages such as Castelbuono and up toward Piano Battaglia, with hairpins, short straights and cool air even in July. Surfaces vary, and a few stretches have patches and loose gravel, so keep a bit of margin.
Cefalù itself has about eleven thousand people, so fuel, parking and plenty of restaurants are easy, and Lascari next door is quieter. Summer brings crowds to the beach and old lanes, so come in May, June or October, when the sea is warm enough for a quick swim and the evening light turns the cathedral honey-coloured. Eat granita with a brioche in the morning, and finish the day on the seafront with fish and a glass of local white wine.