THAT OTHER JOURNEY
Amalfi Coast
The first time I skirted its 50 km road, the 163, I began my second trip along the Italian Amalfi Coast: the first one had been the mental trip, from the chair at home. With my eagerness to know and witness everything that this tourist treasure located south of Naples had to show me, it had been the most researched destination of my 33-day trip through the country, which began in Milan and ended in Lecce. This is why, while sitting in the bus heading to Amalfi, I already knew about the sour and refreshing existence of the classic sorbetto di limone and I had already devoured the whole photographic content of the famous little towns embedded in the hills that Pinterest had served me. I had also been warned about the prices' gap between this place and the rest of southern Italy and was suggested to work my patience if I happened to go during the high season, the tourist mecca.
But no blog or article prepared me for this other type of journey, the sensory one, which I inaugurated with my eyes from the window of that same bus. It was the details that completely mesmerized me: the olive, lemon and orange groves planted in the houses of the same colors, the orchards built on stepped terraces, the flowers that bubbled in every corner and the ironed water of the Tyrrhenian Sea, located meters below, caressing the deserted beach.
With 0.9 kilometers long, Atrani is the smallest town in Italy. Photos: M.W.
The arrival in Amalfi also unraveled the other senses, all at once. It was eye-opening and dizzying at the same time, like those first few seconds when you regain your hearing after a long plane ride from yawning or chewing gum; in this case, the sweetness of the mallows and the freshness of the alceas, the swaying of the sea on my back and the human heat due to the tourist's frantic movement: those were my stimulants chewing gums. Each step, a chew that sharpened my ears, permeated my skin and polished my sense of smell.
Amalfi is the epicenter of the thirteen towns that make up the Amalfi Coast and at rush hour, a bottleneck. Here is where all the buses and boats depart to the rest of the towns: Atrani, Cetara, Conca dei Marini, Furore, Maiori, Minori, Praiano, Positano, Ravello, Scala, Tramonti and Vietri sul Mare; also to the island of Capri, to Sorrento or to the city of Salerno. Among Amalfi's main attractions is the Cathedral of San Andrés –built in the 19th century –and the Museo della Carta, an icon of the town and the oldest paper mill in Europe.
Amalfi was founded in the year 840. Photo: MW
Other municipalities that we visited were: Cetara, whose name derives from Cetaria (=tuna), also famous for its sardines and the Colatura di Alici, a liquid seasoning obtained from the maturation of anchovies that complements the best pastas; Maiori, whose unmissable walk through lemon trees (hence its name, “Sentiero dei Limoni”) links this town with Minori, its smaller cousin, and Furore, which has the best beach in the area (Cala Furore) to dedicate a whole day to the great idea of “dolce far niente”, under the shadow of the bridge located above.
Regarding accommodation, we decided to stay in Agerola, the oldest city in the area and the ideal place to flee the coast and its costs: its 600 meters above sea level and the 16 km that separate it from Amalfi makes this town way much cheaper than the rest. Its years of experience also amassed a great culinary culture, known for the "fiordilatte" –a type of mozzarella– pears and “limoncella” apples, provolone del Monaco and salami. In those fresh and macerated flavors' bites my taste formalized its incorporation into the trip that, in a country like Italy, raised its expectations with each new destination.
Agerola is also known for being the starting point of the Sentiero degli Dei (“Path of the Gods”), an eight-kilometer trek that winds through the hills and along the water all the way downhill to Nocelle; from there you descend 1.700 (yes,1.700) steps to reach Positano, the most romantic town on the coast, where it ends.
For many years the Sentiero degli Dei was the only way of communication by land between the towns. Photo: MW
It was close to noon when we arrived. Its narrow and cobbled streets hidden between plants and fishermen's houses took away the little breath we had left from the walk. Known for its glamorous designer's clothes and works of art, Positano brings together the most eccentric and compulsive tourists. Many of the buildings still maintain their bohemian style from their beginnings, but several others were transformed into mansions and luxury hotels –especially at the beginning of the 20th century – that hosted personalities such as Greta Garbo and Salvador Dalí.
The church of Santa Maria de la Asunción is one of the essentials of Positano. Photos: M.W.
We traveled the rest of the towns by bus and by boat, the latter much faster and more enjoyable but also more expensive ($3 euros vs $6-8 each way, respectively). The car was not an option for this trip, "it is a double-edged sword", I had read: although it makes it much easier to move between towns, finding a place to park in those streets with the width of a needle is like playing a single number to the roulette. You have to be at the right time and place, it's true, I then verified that. However, after a few days on the bus, I concluded that I'd rather play roulette in the parking lot than feel the little ball spinning inside it.
Because for someone who suffers from motion sickness like me, curved landscapes like those ones are a nightmare; if, in addition, the driver who was taking me to Ravello – the highest town at sea level on the Coast – seemed to have been taken from a Formula 1 track, double torture. Each shrewd maneuver and intrepid swerve he took was an extra weight on the dental floss net containing my accumulated nausea of the week.
But the air that flowed once I arrived in Ravello and "La Terrazza dell' Infinito" –the famous “belvedere” of the Villa Cimbrone, a private hotel – engulfed my nausea with the same rawness with which it moved my guts, because that cliff of 365 meters high was one of the most impressive views I ever saw. Motionless, like the marble busts at my sides, I breathed in that landscape with my whole body so as to remember it forever: leaf by leaf, drop by drop.
The statues on the fence are Roman in style. Photos: M.W.