A fake volcano, an ice-cream, a dog dressed as a shark: how I holidayed in the Aeolian Islands – without leaving Philadelphia

‘There’s beauty everywhere’ … Arwa Mahdawi at the Fairmount Water Works in Philadelphia. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

If someone gave me a large sum of money with the stipulation that I had to use it on a summer holiday, I would probably head to the Aeolian Islands, a volcanic archipelago off the coast of Sicily boasting dramatic cliffs, mud baths and picturesque beaches. I went there with an ex about 15 years ago and we argued the whole time; I’ve always wanted to go back and not have the beautiful views ruined by romantic discord.

Of course, Italian summer holidays have been ruined by something rather more serious this year: wildfires and scorching heat have closed airports, forced evacuations, and left a trail of death and destruction. It’s not the best time to be jumping on a carbon-emitting plane and heading off for a carefree vacation in the Med.

‘There’s nothing a change of mindset can’t fix’ … on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

So … could I recreate the Aeolian Islands in my home town of Philadelphia? Philly is great, but it is not exactly famous for its glitz, glamour and idyllic beaches. It is known for cheese steaks, the Liberty Bell and the wild celebrations of its sports fans. Still, there is nothing a little creativity and a change of mindset can’t fix.

Dressing for the occasion

My usual wardrobe is best described as dishevelled freelancer chic. In preparation for my holiday, I shed my athleisure and dug out a jumpsuit, which I paired with a straw hat belonging to my wife. I also applied makeup for the first time in months.

‘The straw hat was transformative: I really felt as if I were going on my hols.’ Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

It is amazing the difference a change of clothes and a little bit of mascara can make. The straw hat, in particular, was transformative: I really felt as if I were going on my hols.

“Arrivederci!” I trilled to my dog as I downed a black coffee and swanned off.

A cliff walk with breathtaking sea views

Were I actually on the island of Salina, I might start the day with a trek through olive trees, taking in views of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the neighbouring islands. I substituted that for the Fairmount Water Works, a municipal water department turned events space on the east bank of the Schuylkill River. “In Philadelphia, there is a place that is wondrous to behold, and that is the Philadelphia waterworks,” Charles Dickens said after visiting it in 1842.

Walking in Charles Dickens’ footsteps … at the waterworks. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

The river views from the waterworks are, indeed, wondrous. You have historic (for the US) 19th-century boathouses in the distances, lush greenery, cliffs and Palladian architecture. Unfortunately, just over the river you also have the very busy and ugly Schuylkill expressway. Still, if you ignore the thundering cars, it is picturesque. There is beauty everywhere – you just have to choose where to look, I thought to myself, as I took it all in. I started weeping as I thought this. Not because of the profundity, but because I’m not used to wearing eyeliner.

Risking life and limb in a quest for the perfect shot for the ’gram

Are you really on holiday if you don’t take a million carefully staged selfies designed to incite envy in the hearts of your nemeses? In the quest for the ultimate view and the perfect shot I hopped over a fence to get to a gazebo on the cliff by the waterworks, almost spraining my ankle in the process. This was very stupid of me: do not try anything like this on your imaginary holiday at home. Particularly if you live in the US, where the cost of one hospital visit could fund several fancy holidays.

Shame about the queues … at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

Sunning myself on a Rocky beach

You know where there are endless breathtaking views that don’t require risking life and limb to experience? The museum. I trotted off to the Philadelphia Museum of Art ready to take in a few Italian landscapes.

‘With my eyes closed, I could be on Pollara beach’ … outside the museum entrance. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

Alas, the queue was very long so I didn’t make it inside. Instead, I laid my beach towel next to a fountain by the entrance and pretended I was at Pollara, the tiny rocky beach where Il Postino was filmed. With my eyes shut, listening to the soothing sound of the fountain, it really did feel as if I were at the beach. The Philadelphia Museum of Art has its own cinematic connection: it’s where Rocky Balboa ran up the steps in the movie Rocky. When I opened my eyes, I was treated to the sight of several people flexing their biceps, pretending to be Rocky.

Lunch at the Italian market

After my morning exertions, lunch was in order. And, who needs a market in Italy when Philly has its very own Italian market? I’m not talking a few fruit stands and a pizza shop: the Italian market is one of the oldest outdoor markets in the US.

Taking a stroll through the Italian market. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

I contemplated a few pomegranates, then got myself an affogato. “Why don’t I eat these more often?” I wondered, as I sat in a cafe, spooning espresso-covered ice-cream into my mouth. Probably because, in normal life, it feels faintly ridiculous to pour coffee over ice-cream. But on holiday everything goes.

Obviously, I had to follow up my affogato with a pizza. I ate it by a fig tree in the company of a dog called Buddha. Bliss!

Lunch … pizza, of course. Photograph: Kriston Jae Bethel/The Guardian

Cocktails by a volcano

The Aeolian Islands are home to two active volcanoes; Philly is home to zero. But as the old saying goes, if the volcano will not come to Arwa, Arwa must go somewhere to buy a volcano. I got a kids’ science one off the internet, thinking I could kill two birds with one stone: pretend I was experiencing a Stromboli-like volcanic vista while teaching my toddler not to put her hands in hot lava.

Enjoying a Philgroni on the patio, with my dog dressed as a shark. Photograph: Handout

Not many bars in Philly are BYOV (Bring Your Own Volcano), so I decided to have my cocktail evening in the garden. The drink of choice? A Philgroni: a mix of Campari, vermouth and gin, finished with a generous splash of Philadelphia tap water. To make the setting more authentic, I dressed my dog up as a baby shark. (The Tyrrhenian Sea is full of sharks, dolphins and other exciting things.)

My very own Stromboli, without the rancid sulphurous smell. Photograph: Handout

While the packaging on my volcano promised a dramatic bubbling of lava, the eruption was an anticlimax: it fizzed a bit and then dripped all over the patio. On the bright side, at least I didn’t have to deal with the rancid sulphurous smell. Nothing puts you off a Philgroni like the stench of volcanic gases.

A romantic sunset dinner

In the planning stages of this holiday, I had promised my wife a lovely dinner at Irwin’s, a feted Sicilian restaurant in South Philadelphia. Alas, I spent all my holiday money on the volcano, so we had pizza at home instead. Then I went on to the patio and tried to clean up the lava.