After visiting the Amalfi Coast in 1953, John Steinbeck wrote: “Almost always, when you find a place as beautiful as Positano… your impulse is to hide it.”
The American writer felt confident enough to share his discovery, writing in Harper’s Bazaar that the city’s remote and somewhat inhospitable location would deter the average traveler.
That was over 70 years ago and I couldn’t have been more wrong.
In summer, the Amalfi Coast rivals Santorini in terms of “overtourism,” but that’s no excuse to avoid it entirely.
Go now, when the crowds aren’t clogging the streets and the sun is still projecting temperatures in the mid-twenties.
Make an appointment: Harriet Sime discovers the charms of the Amalfi Coast out of season
“Go now, when the crowds are no longer crowding the streets and the sun is still slinging temperatures in the mid-twenties,” says Harriet. Above is the bridge over the Furore Fjord on the Amalfi Coast.
I’m here with my husband, Dan. Our base is Santa Caterina, a venerable hotel full of Italian glamour, a ten-minute walk from Amalfi town centre.
We arrived in complete darkness and woke up to the sun high in a clear sky and a light breeze rustling across the hotel’s terraces, adorned with shiny tiles, white furniture and lemon trees.
The hotel is full of tourists, mainly Americans, who have the same idea as us; to see a more authentic side of the world’s most famous coast.
Watching the leather-skinned local men gesticulate on the benches while enjoying their first espresso of the day; watching the elegantly dressed children on their way to school and the nonnas telling the latest gossip to passers-by while hanging up the laundry.
Prices are also much cheaper this time of year. In Santa Caterina, for example, rooms in October cost more than half than in summer.
On our first morning, we skipped the hotel’s glass-fronted elevator that takes guests to its beach club, located a few hundred meters from the cliff, and decided to walk. “Road to the Sea” signs guide us through descending terraces that lead down the rocky path to the water.
Harriet checks into the Santa Caterina Hotel, a ten-minute walk from Amalfi town centre. Above is one of the hotel rooms.
Harriet says Santa Caterina, seen here, is “full of Italian glamour”
Later we arrive in time at the ‘passeggiata’ of the city of Amalfi, when the place comes to life. Colorful Fiat 500s and beeping scooters drive through the streets.
Outside a fruit shop there is a sign that says: “Do not touch the fruit.” If everyone plays we will make jam.’ After about an hour, we grabbed a table in the shadow of the perfectly formed 9th century cathedral for Aperol Spritz and olives before heading out in search of pizza.
A series of steep steps from the town’s main artery takes us to Donna Stella, a patio restaurant run by two look-alike sisters who serve pizzas for £7 each.
“I’m the pretty one,” says Lorenza, as she places two huge daisies on our table. She explains how the restaurant, which opened in 2006, is now closing for a short time between December 20 and March 1.
In the past, the quickest way to get to Amalfi was from Naples Airport, a 90-minute drive, but that all changed this summer, with a new EasyJet route from Gatwick to Salerno-Amalfi Airport, just 30 minutes away. minutes from our hotel.
Our last day was spent in Positano, a 25-minute extravagantly winding drive west, where we settled for lunch at Villa Treville, overlooking the town’s black sand beach.
Harriet takes a day trip to Positano (seen above) where she enjoys lunch overlooking the town’s black sand beach.
We devour plates of stuffed artichokes, burrata and spaghetti alla nerano, a local zucchini pasta, while remembering all the authentic encounters and observations that make trips even richer.
That fleeting conversation with Lorenza, the smiles exchanged, the two minutes of soccer that Dan played with a local young man kicking a ball down the street.
They would never happen in July or August. I rest my case.
