'Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.'       

We took Mark Twain's famous quote - repeated above - seriously and as a young family set off to sail the Mediterranean Sea for three years. In last year's May issue we gave an insight into several can't-miss cruising grounds from Turkey over Greece, Italy and beyond. This year, instead let me take you to one of my favourite places just a day's sail north of Malta.

Some say that Sicily is too expensive for coastal cruising. It sure isn't easy to find reasonably protected and deep enough bays to anchor in. Nor is finding a marina berth for less than €55 a night during the low season and double that during peak times. But our story shows that, with enough creativity, flexibility and an eye on off-the-beaten-track places, the best cruise of your life can be had here, with welcoming people, delicious food, mind-boggling history, breath-taking nature and enough surprises to make cruising the special way of voyaging that it is.

Taormina

After a 48-hours uneventful crossing from Lefkas, one of the Greek Islands, we reached Taormina at around mid-day on a nice flat sea. Our legs couldn't wait to hike up the narrow cliff path into town once, we were sure that the anchor had held. Like most of the anchorages off Sicily's east coast, the bays are quite exposed and not suitable for anything bigger than a small swell. The town, although touristy, is as picturesque as Italy can get, with spectacular views, mouth-watering trattorias and historic piazzas where delicious ice-creams gently melt on your tongue as the sun sets over the mountains.

Stazzo

The winds blew us south the next morning. Most sailors would have headed towards the more well-known Acireale. Instead, we pulled into little-known Stazzo, a small fishing port just a few miles further north. While we were still sorting out stern lines, a friend on board plunged right onto the wall to which we were tied. He grabbed the octopus one of the kids had spotted and went on to turn it (literally!) into something similar to an apperitivo.

After that, with stunning views of smoking Mount Etna in the background, we snorkelled through the clear water to the black sandy beach. We were the only visitors amongst a jolly group of locals. A few older guys were playing cards on an improvised table between the small fishing boats with not a worry in the world. Time had slowed down.

Later that evening we headed for the Blue Bar overlooking our lonely yacht in the port. This is where the locals hang out and from what we could tell the only bar, restaurant and café in town. We were surrounded quickly by what in the olden days would probably have been described as the village elders. Hours of chatting followed, while one Arancini after the other disappeared from the table together with enchanting local wine.

Back on the boat, my eyes closed in a heart-beat - only to be woken again shortly after by a heart-racing engine noise less than a metre from our portside. Heads peaked out of the aft-cabin hatch, followed by a quick jump up on deck. Two fishing boats had come in. The guys were shouting and jumping around the deck in the typically expressive Italian way. Sleepily, I added a few fenders and an extra spring line. Just as I was about to descend back into the warm, cosy bed, one of the fishermen came over with a fresh tuna -by way of an apology for having woken us up. It was with plenty of smiles and hearts full of gratitude that we sailed on south a few days later than planned.

Acitrezza to Marzamemi

Acitrezza, squeezed in the only deep enough bit of the harbour between plenty of traditional fishing boats - old friends left and new ones joined. On we went, picking up from where we had left off many years ago, past rainy river bays, ancient castles, olive groves and through stunning Siracusa - bustling with culture and history. From the Greeks, followed by the Romans, to Arabs and Spaniards - everyone left their mark.

And then we were off the beaten track again, past a stunning nature reserve - with pink flamingos flying past us and dolphins swimming with us - and stronger winds blew us into Marzamemi, the only proper marina we had visited since leaving Greece. It's the first time we pay for a mooring after three weeks in Sicily. €30 a night for a 42ft yacht seems reasonable, given the convenience of showers, beach, restaurants and a small store nearby.

It's only when we hear Malta calling that we leave, with one sad eye for a place we will always hold dear in our hearts and the other eye set on the horizon, filled with curiosity and joy for more adventures to come. Such is the cruising life.