Cindy and I are spending a few days away from the hubbub of urban Italy hanging out in the resort town of Positano, on the Amalfi Coast. Called the most photographed fishing village in the world, Positano is dominated by steep cliffs on which 4,000-ish Positanesi have built these pastel-colored homes leaning out dramatically into the ocean. Between the main marina are a couple of modest beaches. One narrow road meanders into and out of town. And that’s about it.
John Steinbeck lived here in the 1950s, when it must have been a perfect writer’s getaway. Right now, it’s not much of an escape with the hordes of tourists from around the world, the chic shops, and internet access. Still its charms endure — the startling blue water, the slow pace of life, fresh seafood, and beautiful vistas.
Positano is not for the thrifty, particularly during the summer
months. We decided to go for a bit more creature comforts than normal
for us, splurging on a hotel by the water with air-conditioning, a
sunporch facing the beach, and — most decandent of all — in-room
breakfast every morning!
In general, the pleasures here are of the simplest kind —
cappuccino and yogurt for breakfast, lazing away the day by the clear
waters, lunching on a mozarella and prochuitto panino, more lazing by
the beach, eating refreshing melon and lemon gelati. The evenings are
spent meandering through the steep streets of the town while the
Positanesi chat with their neighbors, then languidly dining on the
daily catch grilled and accented lemon, olive oil, and salt. Pure,
You turn on the news to briefly to learn that Israel is bombing
their neighbors (again) and that North Korea rejects UN sanctions
(again). Then you shut off the news, pour yourself some prosecco and
read that trashy mystery novel you brought with you.
I wish I could say I miss living in Internet Time, with the rush of
RSS feeds, emails, and blogerati drama dominating my days and nights.
But the truth is that I’m having the time of my life.