For lovers of golf and ‘The Godfather’, Sicily is a must-do list

I didn’t go to Sicily in September to play golf. No one does.

I went to celebrate my wife’s birthday, which meant food (don’t miss it arancini!) and romance, shopping and gazing at the beautiful hills and mountains. Sicily is a throwback. There are no shopping centers. Very little fast food. THINK godfather, who was shot there in 1971 (and who we’ll get to later), and Michael Corleone, hiding on the cobblestone streets with his bodyguards until it was safe for him to return to America.

And yet, despite the bounty of the island’s wealth, I still found myself unable to fully resist the siren call of one of Sicily’s lesser-known offerings: its golf courses.

There are only three regulation courses in Sicily, but they are varied and picturesque enough to attract the attention of any golfer. The golf part of my trip began at the lovely resort of Verdura, on the south coast about three hours from Palermo. The property has two top-shelf Kyle Phillips courses: West and East, as well as a nine-hole par-3; Phillips is known, among other designs, for his work on Kingsbarns Golf Links in St. Andrews and Yas Links in Abu Dhabi, the site of an annual DP World Tour event.

I started on the West Course and quickly discovered that I didn’t bring my A game – or even my B or C game. Perhaps I was thinking too much about how terribly my fellow Americans had performed the day before in the opening games of Ryder Cup. I really wanted to show my playing partners, both fine Italians, what Uncle Sam is capable of. Instead, I told them Nothing. Nothing.

I could have easily blamed the conditions. Apparently it hasn’t rained in this part of Sicily since Vito Corleone arrived at Ellis Island, so the freeways were thirsty.

However, I really enjoyed the West Course, especially the closing three holes along the Mediterranean, where the biggest challenge was focusing on my game rather than looking out to sea and the world beyond.

The East Course, which I played the next day, is also long in appearance. It is impossible to be wrong. . . no matter how much your game may disappoint you.

The rookie told me I’d be blown away by the par-3 13th.

The starter was right.

The hole is short, just over 100 meters (about 109 yards) – but every step from tee to green is breathtaking.

With the sea to my left, I immediately thought of the par-3 7th at Pebble Beach, a hole so close to my heart that I’ve intended to spread my grace there. A great place to rest in peace, don’t you think?

After the tepi in no. 13 stood a rock with a slab:

This is a magical place. Sit down and look as far as you can. You will see things in your life and be able to understand them.

I didn’t have time to park and think. I had a couple to do. (Which — spoiler alert! — I didn’t.)

Two days later, I returned to the same spot without my clubs. I sat on a bench by the rock for half an hour, maybe more. I hoped for a deeper understanding of life, its trials and triumphs, and I soon realized how little time any of us need to stop and reflect; the world moves very fast.

The next principle to do.

Next project to complete.

Next photo to post.

From Verdura, I took a three-hour drive through the Sicilian countryside to the wonderful Ill Piccolo Etna Golf Resort. Set in the hills near Mount Etna—I had never played near an active volcano (except for a few friends of mine)—the course required extreme precision. Not mine strongly.

However, similar to Verdura, there are some memorable spots that encourage you to stop and soak it all in. Like No. 17, a tight par-4 with Mount Etna in the distance and little room for error. Think Harbor Town without the lighthouse.

Speaking of required accuracy, this sums up the trip I took the next day to the small town of Savoca, home of some Godfather scenes. The road was narrow and windy with more switchbacks than Lombard Street. The Italian drivers seemed unfazed, barreling down the hill at 40 or 50 miles an hour.

I was scared, walking at half that speed. My wife too… happy birthday, dear!

Once we got to town, I wondered if this was the meaning I’d been looking for, something about the fragility of life and the adventures along the way, good and bad, you don’t see coming.

My wife sat in Bar Vitelli, the cafe where Michael Corleone met Apollonia’s proud father, whom she would later marry. Pictures from the movie were everywhere. Likewise, tourists were well versed in the environment’s place in cinematic history. We walked up the hill to the Church of San Nicolo, where the Corleone wedding took place. The church felt more like a shrine to the movie that put this city on the map.

After a few days on the island, we headed to the mainland, to Venice and later Rome for more romance and museums.

At my wife’s urging, I left my clubs in Sicily (figuratively, anyway) and, yes, got cannoli.