A Familiar Hobby in a New Place

Some days aren’t about results. They’re just about showing up, trying something new, and seeing where it leads. That’s how it was for us fishing in Sicily for the first time.

This whole thing started with a Father’s Day gift from our son Daniel. He sent Croce a fishing pole through Amazon Italy. Simple, thoughtful, and honestly, it hit us harder than expected.

We have years of memories tied up in fishing, raising our kids in Pensacola, Florida, near the National Seashore, catching snapper and flounder, wading chest-deep just to hit a sandbar. So this gift wasn’t just gear, it was a quiet nudge, keep doing what you love, even here.

So we did.

We packed up and drove just a few minutes from our home in Carini to a familiar spot called Baglio di Carini. We’d seen locals fishing here plenty of times but never tried it ourselves.

And really, it was about time. Croce’s been retired for five months now, and this felt like the perfect slow start. No pressure. No expectations. Just a day by the Tyrrhenian Sea with a pole, a couple of chairs, and a bit of hope.

Trying Out a Familiar Spot in Carini

He cast a few times while I sat back and took it all in. The sea was calm, the sun was out, and the whole thing felt like one of those quiet chapters you don’t know you’ll remember until later. We didn’t catch anything, not even a nibble. But honestly? That wasn’t the point.

Fishing in Sicily brought us back to something familiar in a completely unfamiliar place. It reminded us that even small things, like packing a cooler, grabbing a couple of chairs, and setting up along the shore, help you settle into a new life. They give you rhythm. They make this place feel like home.

I think Croce was happy just being out there. The man could fish all day, catch nothing, and still say it was a great day. It was more about reconnecting with old habits, making space for the life we have now that we’re here.

The funny thing is, the locals nearby seemed to know what they were doing. One guy walked by with his gear like it was second nature. Croce grew up here, but it had been decades since he fished these waters. So while the spot was familiar, the moment felt brand new. It was like rediscovering something he’d left behind. No pressure to prove anything, just the simple act of picking it back up.

We’ll try again. Different weight line maybe. A new spot. Or not. Either way, we added another layer to our life here. One that smells like saltwater and sounds like the hum of the sea against the rocks.

If you’re settling into life here or thinking about it, find your version of this. Maybe a pleasant evening with no big outcome. It’s not about what you catch, it’s about what you keep coming back to.

Looking for more about the daily rhythms of life here? Read our post on everyday life in Sicily and how it keeps surprising us.