The road to paradise
The road - the Costiera - from Saint Agata sui Due Golfi to Vietri sul Mare was begun in 1853 under orders from Ferdinand II. It is some 45 miles in length and on the map it looks much like any other road. Driving it is a different story. Hewn out of solid rock with very few guardrails, in places you need to have a steeplejack’s head for heights, even in a car, and it makes more twists and turns than a politician being pressed on future taxation policy. But then, this narrow corniche road is worth the occasional ‘how the hell did we miss him’ moment because it takes you along the most heart-stoppingly beautiful stretch of coast scenery in the entire Med. Except if you are the one driving, it’s probably best not to look at the view! Unless you’re stationary, of course. And in summer you could well be. The road is quietest in early afternoon, always busy at weekends, and on summer nights it’s often full of ravers on their way to and from the discos of Salerno.
What strikes you first about this landscape is its ability to defy gravity. Crags rise from the sea, gnarled, bleached, and in places clothed in forests, dark even under a Campanian sun. The towns seem to hang from the rock like belayed climbers forcing a new route up an extreme and hitherto unclimbed face. Viewed from any angle, the houses, dozing in the sun, seem about to relax their grip on the rock and slide into the sea. Nor is this image an entirely fanciful one. Did not much of Amalfi do just that during a storm in 1343?
Needless to say, a coastline this spellbinding attracts the wealthy; a summer place here is de rigueur for many well-off Romans, and a stroll round the shops at Positano, for instance, will confirm that when it comes to chic, this seemingly out-of-the-way bit of Italy is right up there with what is di moda. And, of course, in the summer there is no getting away from the fact that this is very much coach-party country; indeed, should a few such parties hit town at the same time, the streets can look as if a crowd for a big league local derby footie match has turned up. Nature, when it comes this grand, can never be exclusive, but the crowds that flock to the area are very much birds of passage, passing through in the summer months, leaving spring and autumn quieter.
Leaving Naples
Driving out from Naples, perhaps having overdosed on what remains of the glory that was Herculaneum and Pompeii, and having spent time in dear old congenial Sorrento - and after Naples the inside of a rugby scrum is serene - the first town on the road of a ‘thousand bends’ you encounter is Positano. And your first glimpse of the place will make you understand why the writers of travel brochures and guide books have expended acres of purple prose trying to describe it. Well, this is one hack who will not raid his Thesaurus to add to all those acres; suffice to say that with Positano, nature and man have combined to produce a scene that is so beautiful that it will echo and re-echo in your mind’s eye long years after you have left it. However, if you are driving, finding a place to park will be something you will almost certainly want to forget. In short, park if you see a space and walk down in to the town – look out for steps if you do this, they’ll get you to the shore quicker than if you keep to the cork-screwing road.
