It’s hard to believe places like this still exist.
Not because they’re impossible to find.
But because we’ve all been trained to expect the opposite.
We assume “Italian beach” means endless rows of umbrellas. Loud crowds. Somebody’s Bluetooth speaker playing reggaeton three towels away. A €7 coffee in a plastic cup.
And then you land in Menfi, on Sicily’s forgotten southwest coast… and everything changes.
I walked out onto Le Solette beach with my shoes in one hand and a sandwich in the other.
There was no ticket booth. No rows of umbrellas. No security telling you where to sit.
Just soft, golden sand stretching into the horizon. The sea in front of me shifted from pale turquoise to deep indigo like something out of a dream. Behind me, wild hills and olive groves rolled inland, totally untouched.
The most incredible part?
There wasn’t a single building in sight.
The Menfi coastline isn’t a place you stumble into by mistake. It’s a place you choose.
And if you do — you’ll find:
Beaches that have held Blue Flag status for nearly 20 years
Barefoot paths through headlands that still smell like wild rosemary
Fishing villages like Porto Palo, where the seafood comes straight from the water to your plate
No high-rise hotels. No beachfront billboards. No chaos.
I stayed just outside Menfi in a simple villa called Villa Melograno. Sea views from the garden. A breeze that never stopped. And early June temperatures in the mid-20s that made it hard to believe it wasn’t high season.
Forget the TikTok pasta tours and overpriced gelato.
This is real Sicilian food. Farmstand-level fresh. Grown in volcanic soil. Picked by hand.
At the Wednesday market in Menfi, I filled my bag with tomatoes that smelled like the sun. Peppers, aubergines, salty cheeses, cured meats. I didn’t plan meals — I just bought what looked beautiful and built dinner around it.
I even tasted olive oil made hours earlier from trees that have seen 250 years of sunrises. Ravidà, one of Sicily’s best producers, runs tastings and cooking classes. But if you want something even more real?
Join the family olive harvest at Casale Abate. You stay the weekend. You pick olives with your hands. You press them into oil. And you eat warm bread soaked in the greenest, freshest liquid gold you’ve ever tasted.
It’s €250 for four people. That’s less than one bottle of wine at a beach club in Positano.
In the past 20 years, the Menfi area went from making low-grade bulk wine to producing 40% of Sicily’s labeled exports.
Locals now call it Menfishire — or “Sicily’s Chiantishire.”
We dropped by Mandrarossa, a winery with a panoramic sea-view terrace, for €30 tastings. I’m still thinking about their 2023 Nero d’Avola. Plummy. Peppery. Bold enough to remember by name.
We skipped the crowds in Agrigento and headed instead to Selinunte — a 7th-century Greek city just 20 minutes from Menfi.
It has five temples, ruins of homes and markets, and a hilltop acropolis with views so vast, you forget to take pictures. Just stare. Breathe. Feel small in the best way.
You’ll walk for hours and barely cross paths with anyone. Except maybe Poseidon. Or at least his temple.
Because right now, everyone is looking at the wrong part of the map.
They’re in Amalfi, elbowing for room.
They’re in Cinque Terre, trying to take the same Instagram photo.
They’re paying triple for a tenth of the experience.
Meanwhile, places like Menfi are still flying under the radar. Still affordable. Still magical. Still human.
But that won’t last forever.
So — will you be the one who discovers it first…
or hears about it from someone else?
Save this.
Share it with someone who needs a break from the noise.
And when you go? Don’t tell too many people.
Let’s keep this little corner of Sicily exactly as it is — sun-soaked, wave-lapped, and wildly unforgettable.
Welcome!
