A night at the museum: The amazing Palazzo Previtera, Sicily

Palazzo Previtera is a Sicilian guesthouse like no other. Steve Dinneen checks in for a stay at this “living museum” in the foothills of Mt Etna

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I was sitting on my private terrace, glass of local Mt Etna Mascalese red in hand, when the air raid siren went off, its terrible drone bouncing off the rooftops and church towers below. This was troubling given my proximity to the world’s most active volcano, which last erupted as recently as July. But when a crowd of locals failed to run screaming from the doors of the sleepy 17th century town of Linguaglossa, I chalked it off as a false alarm. Instead, I went back to gazing at the kind of starscape you only find in remote, mountainous regions like this; venus and mars were recognisable with the naked eye and I spotted two shooting stars (I wished on them but they were probably only satellites). 

The next morning Alfio Puglisi, the owner of the Palazzo Previtera “living museum”, told me the siren is in fact a call to mass from one of the local churches, designed to penetrate far into the vineyards and olive groves of this bucolic region of Sicily. 

Linguaglossa was founded upon a lava stream in the mid 16th century and Puglisi’s ancestral ties to Palazzo Previtera date back almost as far, with his family residing there since 1649. Unassuming from the outside, with its quaint cornflower-yellow facade, it is in fact a vast, mazelike structure, filled with strange, looping corridors, vaulted basements and sprawling grounds. In 15 years of writing about some of the world’s most fancy and unusual destinations, I have never seen anything quite like it. 

It’s far too personal and outlandish to be a hotel – there are only three suites in the main building and a couple of villas in the grounds – but to call it a B&B feels woefully inadequate. It feels like nothing more than a mad, eccentric aristocrat’s home at which you are an unlikely guest, which is exactly what it is. As you wander its various lounges and annexes and libraries (of which there are three, one containing a first print-edition of Thomas Aquinas), you’re hit by a riot of colour and texture.

Paintings of Puglisi’s family, some dating back hundreds of years, hang wherever you go, stark and serious against the hand-painted wallpaper and tiles and ceilings. Every surface of every room is full of… stuff. Carved knick-knacks, quill pens, ceramics, religious ephemera. There’s an incredible, tiny vaulted chapel, complete with mobile confession-booth. You could lose days exploring the place.

Outside are olive trees and vines and enough outdoor space to make you feel you have the place entirely to yourself. For my first two nights I slept in one of the villas – a wonderfully snug wood and stone building with a private terrace where the housekeeper will bring your breakfast. I then decanted, alongside my growing collection of local wine, into the main building’s Norma suite; more painted tiles and ceilings and a wrought iron bedframe inlaid with an image of the Virgin Mary.

Did I mention there is a functioning gallery, open to the local population of some 5,350 people, but mostly for the appreciation of guests? There is. Not only that, there’s a huge former hazelnut warehouse over the road that serves as a dedicated installation space for the artist in residence. Puglisi, an academic who lectured in economics before returning home to run the guesthouse, is an enthusiastic patron of the arts, sponsoring artists to create site-specific installations.

I got chatting to Hanna Burk, the Austrian upcoming artist in residence, over a pasta-making class hosted by the housekeeper – she was scouting the location, sleeping on a fold-out bed in the warehouse while she plans her exhibition for next year. We ended up chumming along to a wine tasting at Emilio Sciacca Winery a short hike into the hills, alongside another pair of residents, which is a great way to learn about the local tipple and make friends with your fellow guests.

Linguaglossa itself is a beautiful little town, a warren of cobbled alleyways and churchyards far enough from the tourist trail to feel refreshingly authentic. Booking a table at one of the trattorias or osterias, you find yourself entirely surrounded by locals as you demolish yet another bowl of the regional pistachio pasta.

You would be remiss to come this far into the foothills of Mt Etna without venturing to the top and Linguaglossa is also home to Guide Vulcanologiche Etna Nord, which organises excursions to the summit. Clambering aboard a huge 4×4 bus you’re deposited close to the highest crater – there are dozens of craters – and hike down the otherworldly, moon-like terrain, which changes from fine, black dust to craggy volcanic rock and eventually becomes verdant forest, occasionally interrupted by the searing ooze of the more recent eruptions (the remnants of a tourist encampment can be seen poking out from the lava mid-way up the volcano).

And there is no better place to retire after your exertion than the quiet grandeur of Palazzo Previtera, this improbable living museum that immediately feels like the home you always wished you had.

• Rooms at Palazzo Previtera start from £140 a night – to book go to the website here; To book a Mt Etna tour through Guide Vulcanologiche Etna Nord to to the website here.