To be the mayor of Noto is not such a terrible life. To my mind, this little city in southeastern Sicily is one of the most enchanting in all of Europe. Along its main drag, Corso Vittorio Emanuele, stands one gorgeous building after another, built in the grand, 17th-century Baroque style. The whole place looks like a movie set (a steamy episode of The White Lotus was filmed there). Strolling around, gazing up at the carved limestone façades and wrought-iron balconies made me think: Wait, this is exactly what all those fancy buildings I’ve seen my entire life — the Versace mansion in Miami, the Odesa opera house — are trying to imitate.

On my recent visit, I asked the mayor, Corrado Figura, to explain Noto’s beauty. “It all goes back to the earthquake of 1693,” he said from his office in what has to be one of the most splendid city halls, set in a former palazzo. “After that, Noto’s people decided to build a new city. They wanted the help of the most important architects of the time. It was all done in a uniform style, the Baroque style.” 

“The result,” he said, leaning proudly back in a leather chair so old it creaked, “is that we’re sui generis” — one of a kind. “And we haven’t lost our identity,” he added. “If you pay attention to your past, you can actually feel it.”

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Tourism has been booming in Sicily, even before The White Lotus prompted a major upswing in visits to the island — specifically to the town of Taormina, where the second season was set. Compared with its cousins Taormina and Siracusa, Noto is more intoxicating and more beautiful, but at the same time more real. It has not yet been overrun by the cruise ships, tour buses, and designer stores that can make a destination feel like an airport departures area. 

To help us get the most out of our trip, my wife and I turned to Matteo Della Grazia, who runs a small travel company, Fuoritinerario — Discover Your Italy. He suggested we stay at Q92 Noto Hotel, which is right in the center of town. The manager, Gaia Quartucci, told me how her parents, who run hotels in Taormina, had bought a 17th-century nobleman’s house and undertaken a careful renovation, turning it into a delightful nine-room hotel. The Q92 (the Q comes from the family’s name, and 92 is the street address) served as a base for a late-spring vacation, and with the help of a rented Fiat 500, my wife, our two sons, and I explored the whole southeastern corner of Sicily — beaches, nature reserves, cathedrals, pizzerias, and all.

Our boys, ages 12 and 14, are gelato addicts, so mission number one was to rigorously taste-test the two Noto gelato shops reputed to be among Italy’s best: Caffè Sicilia and Dolceria Costanzo. We ordered the same flavors at both, chocolate and ricotta (basically an extra-sweet vanilla). The verdict wasn’t even close. Costanzo was by far creamier and richer. And it came with a free cookie. As my wife, Courtenay, said, “What’s not to like?” We found a place to sit on the wide steps of the cathedral, Noto’s stunning centerpiece and the perfect people-watching perch, and after we finished our cones, we ventured inside. 

The cathedral was completed more than 200 years ago, but the dome collapsed in the 1990s after being damaged in an earthquake. The entire thing was then rebuilt with local limestone, which takes on, late in the day, the warm hue of sunset. The interior was vast and cool, with a smooth, white-tiled floor, which a nun was quietly sweeping. Visitors drifted in and out. This is basically what you do in Noto. You eat. You stroll. You marvel that there are places that still really look like this.

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Some of the best spots to take in Noto’s splendor are the residences of the city’s former nobility. We toured Palazzo Castelluccio, which sank into disrepair after the last marquis died in 1981 — until a French movie director scooped it up and brought it back to life. As we trudged through the palazzo’s polished dining room, music room, and ballroom, it felt like we were walking through a game of Clue. Sicilian nobles lived large. There was even a balcony overlooking the courtyard where the marquis would toss down candy to children of the common folk. (Palazzo Castelluccio has since closed to the public, but there are plenty of other palaces to tour, including the city hall, Palazzo Ducezio, and Palazzo Nicolaci, with its façade of carved mermaids and hippogriffs.)

Noto is not quite on the coast, but it isn’t far from several great swimming spots. Calamosche Beach and the Vendicari Nature Reserve were stunning. Calamosche is a 20-minute hike from the parking lot­, and a word to the wise: be sure to stick to the designated spots or you’ll end up with a ticket flapping away on your windshield, like we did. But the beach — a perfect cove with calm, clear water — was more than worth it. The nature reserve, which consists of a string of marshes and beaches, is a bird-watching hot spot. We saw flamingos, sandpipers, storks, and graceful herons gliding over the rich swamp grass.

We worked up an appetite hiking and swimming, so we were happy to make a little discovery: granita con brioscia, a.k.a. the granita sandwich. The Sicilians don’t mess around with granita, which is what we think of when we say Italian ice — it’s a semi-frozen dessert with a texture somewhere between a sorbet and a slushy. At a stand on the coast we learned that a popular way to eat granita is to take a big scoop (preferably the tart-lime flavor) and smoosh it between two slices of soft, buttery brioche. It’s even better than it sounds. 

That was just one of the trip’s many gastronomic highlights. On the fancy side, our favorite restaurant was Nachè, a minute’s walk from our hotel, where we munched on red-tuna tacos, house-made tagliatelle with rabbit from a local farm, and truffles from the slopes of Mount Etna.

I was also a big fan of La Vecchia Fontana, a pizzeria and bar near the town’s entrance gate. Don’t be thrown off by the fact that it looks like a million other sidewalk cafés: the pizza was perfectly seasoned, thin and crisp, but somehow gooey at the same time.

We capped off our last evening at Gelati Bianca, which had become our favorite. You know how some ice cream servers make you feel bad if you ask for too many tastes? Not at this joint. Ours offered samples of flavors we hadn’t even requested. “Try this,” he said. “Cookies.” It left the perfect aftertaste of biscotti. “And give this to mama.” Mama happily tried the spoonful — tiramisu — then took a full cone of it, and we all retreated to the cathedral steps to enjoy our last hours in Noto. 

That night there was something irresistible about the combination of the air, the light, the setting. A busker strummed soft-rock classics on his guitar. A few dozen people sat on the church’s steps eating ice cream and listening. A group of teens, who looked like locals, stood chatting with their buddies, checking their phones, seemingly oblivious to the magical backdrop that framed their every move.

It reminded me of something Quartucci, the manager of our hotel, told me about the experience of opening Q92 back in 2021: that Noto seemed endearingly innocent of its own charms. “The local people,” she said, “didn’t know they had gold in their hands.” 

A version of this story first appeared in the August 2024 ssue of Travel + Leisure under the headline “City of Gold.”