We would like to report here a text written by one of our guests Fatma Chadli. She took part of the group journey of Lumière sur Lumière. It is an association active in Belgium and France, that promotes educational and cultural group journeys, designed as opportunities for discovery, personal growth and sharing.
Through itineraries exploring history, culture and spirituality, it organises immersive stays where travelling also becomes a chance to build connections, exchange ideas and enjoy authentic experiences.
From Sicily to Andalusia, from Morocco to the Alps, each group journey invites participants to discover places and people from a new perspective, in a spirit of openness, fellowship and solidarity.
The trip to Palermo was exactly that: not just an opportunity to discover a city rich in history and beauty, but above all an experience shaped by encounters, small gestures, friendship and sharing. Here is Fatma Chadli’s account, beautifully capturing the memories of that week in a garden of emotions.
“Light Upon Light: A Garden in Palermo
They say “light upon light” when one light meets another and together they shine even brighter. This week in Palermo, I saw what that really looks like.
It was a garden. Not a garden of identical flowers, neatly lined up, but one filled with different flowers, each with its own colour, fragrance and rhythm. Some climbing to the heights of Cefalù, overlooking the sea; others dipping their feet into the clear water; some wandering through historic alleyways; others discovering the old washhouse, so deeply steeped in history. There were flowers sharing delightful anecdotes that made everyone laugh, flowers who talked, others who listened, and those who looked after everyone else. It is this beautiful mixture that makes the garden so special: golden cathedrals, majestic palaces, shared picnics and the enchanting fragrance of spices.
There was Abderrahim, a poet, a guide and a wonderful human being, humble and modest, who lifted the spirits of our group. When he tells us the story of the old washhouse — a place few people visit, yet one that preserves the memories of generations past — we listen, captivated. And we realise that we are returning to the true poets: those who do not need grand words to touch our hearts, because their words come straight from within, infused like a handful of verbena and sincere poetry. There was Lucas, too, who spoke to us about his subjects with knowledge and passion, using words full of kindness.
In this garden, there was the soup prepared by Pascal and his wife Zayneb, which warmed us and brought us together around the table. Pascal, whose room was just opposite ours, and Zayneb, who shared a room with me, were like a key opening the door to a fragrance of musk and orange blossom: a deep, reassuring and generous scent that one never forgets. Their humanity enters without knocking and leaves behind the gentle warmth of home.
There was the elegance and generosity of Hassiba, the true “princess of photography”. When I forgot my little bag of gold bars, she paid for my ride to the top of the mountain. With her, even the walk to the shops and the long climbs became an adventure seasoned with a pinch of chilli and plenty of humour: our feet were burning, we had blisters, yet we carried on laughing wholeheartedly. There was also another, quieter photographer who greeted us with a gentle “bonjour”. Both of them knew how to capture the light in the faces of local people and the freshness of our smiles, around a street corner or beside a monument. My phone let me down, so I am counting on them to share with me those precious images I was unable to capture myself. And then there was the scarf, offered with such kindness: a simple, thoughtful gesture worth more than all the jewels in the world.
Among us were Secil and her little princess Assia, a flower of springtime grace, as well as another equally gentle little flower who had come with her mother. There were also Habiba and her daughter Sophie, two wise, refined and elegant souls. Habiba, with her love of beautiful tables, elegant outfits and delicate touches of fragrance, gave us a taste of luxury during our stay. We, who count every euro, laughed about it together. Here, we were all equal, sitting at the same table, sharing the same bread and the same laughter, thanks to the funny stories and anecdotes that helped our hearts open up.
And then there was our hostel, A Casa di Amici, on Via Dante, a place whose name suits it so perfectly: right in the city centre, just opposite the international theatre. Despite the city’s loud sounds and constant bustle, it was an artistic and lively home, impeccably clean and filled with the fragrance of courtesy. There was a piano, and guitars hanging all over the reception walls, as if all the artists were there with us. Maps were spread across the tables, colourful paintings decorated the walls, and there was even a welcoming corner on the first floor where we could leave our luggage after checking out. The staff made the rooms shine every day, with care and attentiveness.
And then there was Lucrezia, the true light of this home. Through her gentleness, attentive listening and humanity, she made me feel at home, and I embraced her with all my heart. To Lucrezia, Roberta, Manuelle and the whole team: this time I did not have any mint, ginger or za’atar in my bag, so I am making you a promise. Next time, I will be the one to prepare and serve you a steaming hot mint tea, made with all my heart.
In this group, we helped one another without asking questions: carrying a bag, sharing a snack or offering a helping hand — it was all done naturally. This is Italian happiness: simple, full of flavour, cheerful anecdotes and human warmth. And outside, too, the local people welcomed us with extraordinary kindness. On our last day, some lovely people even allowed us into a private place by the beach, and everyone said thank you in their own way, as best they could. Those are the magical moments that make you want to meet again.
Towards the end of my stay, I also discovered the most popular local market, where you can find just about everything at very affordable prices, among colourful, lively and fragrant stalls. It was a world away from the tourist spots where you pay ten times as much. If only I had discovered it sooner! When I return home to Lille, I would love to bring a little of that light, those spices and that warmth back to our neighbourhoods.
A heartfelt thank you to Kloe and her husband Salih, who lead the association and imagined and organised this trip with such love and dedication: the shared meals, the little fragrant surprises and the gentle walks at our own pace. It is thanks to them that this cultural adventure was such a success. A garden does not grow by itself: there are always loving hands to water it and sow its seeds, and theirs were the first.
Dear Faustine, I am sharing these words with you because this garden in Palermo has inspired me to grow a beautiful one in our own neighbourhood of Lille-Moulins.
May this light upon light accompany us all the way to Lille and beyond.
Fatma CHADLI – Lille”
If you are planning your next group journey and you want to konw more, fill our group form HERE. Palermo is waiting fo you!
