Taormina clings to a terrace of Monte Tauro on the east coast of Sicily, about two hundred metres above the sea, and from almost every street you look straight out across the Ionian to the coast of Calabria. Mount Etna stands to the south, smoking above the haze, and on a clear day the whole thing looks painted. Giardini-Naxos lies below by the water, and the little hilltop village of Castelmola sits above the town, a short, tight climb of a kilometre or so that is well worth the effort for the view.
The town's centrepiece is the ancient Greek theatre, built in the third century BC and rebuilt by the Romans. It is cut into the hillside, and the stage frames Etna in a way that no designer could improve. Taormina has long been a favourite of travellers: Goethe wrote about it, D. H. Lawrence lived here for a time, and in the nineteenth century it became a fashion for northern Europeans escaping winter. Corso Umberto, the main street, is pedestrian and lined with shops, cafes and little churches, and in high season it is crowded.
That matters to a rider. Parking in the centre is tightly controlled, and large vehicles are kept out of the old town, so use a car park at the edge and walk in. The road up from the coast is a series of hairpins with sea views, and the last kilometres can be busy with coaches and taxis, so avoid mid-afternoon in July and August. Spring and autumn are the best times, with warm light and fewer people. Early evening is the moment when the sun lights Etna from the side.
For food, Sicily is rarely a disappointment. Order granita with a brioche for breakfast, arancini in the afternoon, and pasta with fresh sardines or swordfish in the evening. Cannoli is the sweet to try. Fuel is available in the lower town and on the coastal road, and the stations are easy to find. Taormina is a place to end a ride slowly, with a glass of Etna wine and a long look at the volcano.