My first step onto Italian cobblestones was in Catania, the second largest city in Sicily, at the base of Mt Etna. I would rather visit a market than a museum any day, and Catania's central extravaganza is a living, stinking, moving mass of produce porn. The seafood wing is the embodiment of a wet market, and most safely viewed from above if you aren't in the market for a kilo of clams. I was in raptures over the summer fruit selection and low prices. A kilo of cherries for €2 is close to miraculous. As I didn't yet know how to say "half a kilo" in Italian, I ended up with three kilos of stone fruit to add to my luggage.