You'd think that since Sicily is where Keith and I began our decline, it would be associated with illness and shortness of breath. But it's not. It still seems magic—painted in bold brushstrokes and wreathed in sunshine. Such is the power of Sicily.

Scopello is also home of a tonnara, a historic tuna fishery that sounds evocative but was actually an example of the downside of under researching. Yes, going in cold can lead to adventures and a sense of discovery. It can also lead to significant grumpiness.

Sicily is scented with jasmine and wild herbs—fennel and oregano and something sweet and toasty, maybe fenugreek? This mix of cultivated and untamed is seen everywhere. Trim lines of grapevines leading to dramatic, craggy mountains. Neat rows of olive trees divided by a riot of shimmering undergrowth. Stately Greek ruins rising from a profusion of colorful, delicate wildflowers. That's just Sicily, or at least the tiny corner of Sicily we were able to explore.