Positano, Southern Italy

Italy offers a wealth of sea, mountain and city resorts. Few countries can lay claim to such a combination of brilliant cities, magnificent mountains and beautiful shores. Italy’s allurements range from the Riviera, the Adriatic, the Tuscany and Amalfi Coasts, to the Dolomites and the Italian Lakes, to Florence, Milan, Venice, Naples and Rome. It is even possible in Italy to combine the three attractions of sea, mountain and city in one holiday! However, my husband and I decided to make Positano, on the Amalfi Coast, in the Bay of Naples our first holiday resort.



My husband had already been to Italy on countless occasions prior to our marriage, and had already visited most of the main cities. But Positano and the Amalfi Coast represented ‘unknown terrain’ where he was concerned. Furthermore, a beachside pension in Positano had been recommended to me by a former school friend. Since I was interested in spending some time in Naples and Rome and other Southern Italian destinations prior to our return journey, we decided to fly to Rome, continue to Naples by train, and then travel to Positano overland by coach.

We left Heathrow Airport at midnight and arrived in Rome Airport shortly after 2.00 a.m. And the flight was undoubtedly the most congenial part of the whole journey! After a bumpy bus ride into the capital, we then boarded a local train which took four hours to reach Naples. It was an uncomfortable trip, the seats being little more than hard benches!

We reached Naples at dawn and the sight that greeted us was breathtaking! The city of Naples sparkled in the morning sun, and the sweep of her silvery bay glistened like a giant glinting lake. However, we were given no time to reflect on the scenic beauty of the city for two enthusiastic Italian youths leapt forward, and despite our remonstrations, grasped our cases, and started running along the street, away from the station! Not sure whether we were dealing with thieves or porters, we followed in pursuit – at the same time demanding the return of our baggage!

The youths ignored us and, still at a running pace, led us to the Coach Station, which was situated near the Quayside. There they deposited our bags and demanded an exorbitant sum for their portage! After that, we clutched all our possessions with unwonted zeal until we finally boarded the coach that was to take us to Positano!

The coach itself was not particularly comfortable, and the journey itself was a positive nightmare! For four further hours we travelled along what was then apparently regarded as one of the most dangerous roads in Italy – the Amalfi highway!

The scenery was breathtakingly spectacular, with high mountain ranges towering above us, and the translucent sea lapping on a succession of idyllic shores that lay hundreds of feet beneath the sheer, stark cliff face along the edge of which we were travelling!

Our driver certainly didn’t seem to be suffering from any symptoms of ‘vertigo’! To him the narrow ledges represented a racing track! He drove the coach at maximum speed, skidding around corners, sometimes on two wheels only! And all the time he sang happily in Italian, while above us the towering mountains soared into the sky, and below us close by – too close by – lay the sheer stark ravines!

It was midday when we reached the confines of Positano. But our ordeal was not yet over! Positano comprised a cluster of picturesque buildings clinging precipitously in terraces up a sheer face of rock! And our pension was situated on a small beach far, far below! Reaching it entailed a long descent down a flight of five hundred stone steps, steeply hewn into the rock face of the cliff!

The sun was blinding in its ferocity as we descended step by step, impeded at every point by our coats and cases. It took us at least half an hour to reach our destination, by which time I, personally, was in a state of sheer exhaustion!

Our pension nestled in the curve of a tiny bay. Perched on the right hand promontory of the shore was a small turret while large boulders of rocks lay to the left of us. There was no other building within the bay.

Above us the towering cliffs stretched upwards, and beyond them the mellow mountains soared up into the sky. It was a vista of incomparable beauty!

A trellised veranda adjoined the small pension. Adorned with clinging vines, orange blossoms and a profusion of bougainvilleas, it served as a dining room, bar and outdoor lounge. Our bedroom was clean and comfortable, with a small balcony overlooking the bay. It seemed that at the end of our traumatic journey we had finally found perfection!

We bathed in the translucent sea, which was as warm as a tepid bath. The sand was of fine shingle and there were both sun beds and sun umbrellas ranged along the small shore. That first day at our resort established a pattern of those to come.

We did occasionally clamber over the large boulders of rocks that lay to the left of our pension in order to explore the main beach of Positano. For it was here that the main town lay, rising upwards, clinging in layers to the soaring contours of the cliff face. It was here too that the restaurants were located, whose choice of meals were always incomparable – the Spaghetti Bolognaise on offer being the best that I’d ever tasted. Veal de Bologna too proved to be excellent! Likewise, there were also various forms of fish cooked in wine and cheese sauces on offer that were particularly delectable.

Our ‘half board’ at the pension included breakfast and an evening meal, which we partook on the trellised verandah which at night was lit up with a succession of myriad small lights. While the fare itself was relatively unexciting, the venue was magical, and the view across sand, sea and sky had a haunting mystical quality that seemed to stun the senses. Location-wise it was perfection personified! And the Chianti wine on offer too was without parallel!

And, later in the night, when we were all a-bed, the distant voices of fishermen singing out at sea as they gathered their nets, permeated the night air and floated across the ocean in an operatic style that resembled the harmonious tones that were likely to be heard in a top Italian Opera House.

Our days during that week that we spent in Positano passed in a blaze of sunshine, and we spent it sunbathing on the sand, sea bathing in the warm waters, floating on the serene sea on an inflated rubber dingy, or simply absorbing the gloriously spectacular scenery. Our first week in Italy had, in effect, been our seaside ‘holiday week. Our second week would be spent ‘sightseeing’………….

Roberta Crookes has worked as a newspaper journalist throughout most of her life, writing news stories, editorial features, advertisement supplements, and reviews. And in the course of her work she has interviewed many famous people from all walks of life. She has also managed to combine parallel careers in both journalism and acting, and, being Welsh speaking from North Wales, her main television featured parts have been Welsh language roles with BBC Wales.