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La Dolce Vita A dream vacation in Italy means wine, wellness and wandering its historic sites By Theresa Storm
There are times when seeing a sign with your name held high in a rushing crowd is pure relief. That’s the case when we disembark from a train arriving into the pandemonium of Naples Central Station.
sunbeams danced off the Tyrrhenian Sea flecked with boats. At higher elevations, fuchsia bougainvillea tumbles over centuries-old rock walls, and the aroma of luscious lemons drifts from roadside groves.
My mother, who is in her 70s, and I are on another leg of her month-long dream trip, en route to southern Italy’s scenic Amalfi Coast. For years, she heard rave reviews about the destination from friends who had been. They talked about the balmy weather, the Roman ruins, the Renaissance art and designer fashions, lively piazzas, lauded cuisine and exceptional wines served by flirty tuxedo-clad waiters, along with stunning beaches and pampering spas.
Crossing over the Lattari, the peninsula’s mountainous backbone, we descend via SS163. The skinny highway sandwiched between forested slopes and deep blue sea weaves around hair-raising bends to link to the 13 towns comprising the Amalfi Coast. It is one of the world’s most scenic coastal roads.
Trying to stick together, we pushed through crowds toward Cosimo, the tall, sign-wielding chauffeur arranged by our hotel in Positano for the private 1.5-hour transfer. Soon, the forested slopes and flat caldera of Mount Vesuvius looms, the volcanic monster that smothered Pompeii. As the road begins to climb the Sorrentine Peninsula, views of the coastline along the Gulf of Naples and its craggy islands unfold, while
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EXTRAORDI N A RY EXP ER IEN C ES
Rounding a tight hairpin, we gasp. Rising from the base of the mountain opposite is Positano, clinging to the vertical limestone cliffs. Once a humble fishing village, today celebrities roam its cobblestone, pedestrian-only streets. Turn by turn, we make our way downhill until, at last, the road winds its way to a car park, where a bellman awaits. Wheeling our bags, he expertly helps us navigate our continued descent over a tight, twisting walkway. It’s covered with trellises draped in lilac wisteria and tangled green ivy, and lined with cafés and chic boutiques.
