Our Amalfi Coast adventure technically began before we ever glimpsed the sea. We flew into Naples and met our guide, Paulo, in the airport arrivals hall. After some minor chaos, we loaded into our bus and wound our way higher and higher into the mountains, catching our first glimpse of Mount Vesuvius rising dramatically against the sky.
Eventually, we arrived in Agerola, a tiny town perched right at the top of a mountain. Our home for the week was a small family-run hotel, Due Torri — charming, slightly quirky, complete with a pool, bar, and a separate dining room for our group meals.
At first, we were shocked to learn we’d be staying here all week, heading out on day trips rather than moving from hotel to hotel, (yes I know, we should have read the itinery more carefully!). We worried we’d landed ourselves in a one-horse town, stuck in the middle of nowhere. Exhausted and bedraggled — always bedraggled, in fact this whole trip could be subtitled “Bedraggled in Amalfi” — we went to bed a bit despondent that first night.
But as the days passed, we settled in, met friendly fellow travelers, and discovered that Agerola sits right at the top of the Amalfi Coast. A short walk in nearly any direction produced sweeping views of mountains plunging into the sea. It turned out to be a surprisingly strategic base for exploring the entire region, including Naples, Pompeii, and the Amalfi Coast towns — all within about an hour’s drive.
Stepping Back in Time: Herculaneum and Pompeii
Our first full day of exploring took us back nearly two thousand years. We headed downhill to visit Herculaneum in the morning and Pompeii in the afternoon.
Mount Vesuvius, which looms quietly over Naples today, erupted in 79 AD with staggering violence, blowing the entire top off the mountain. The eruption affected Herculaneum and Pompeii differently. A massive column of ash and pumice rose over 20 km into the sky, drifting southeast and collapsing over Pompeii, burying it in about 20 meters of ash. Fortunately, there was enough warning that many residents managed to flee, although where to exactly, nobody knows. There’s evidence that sea rescue effort were made and presumably if they got out to sea they’d be safe. However the entire land area is covered in a very thick layer of ash from that day and I suspect there must be many caravans of “escapees”, buried forever under the ash.
Herculaneum, lying to the south, avoided that initial ash cloud. However, a series of six pyroclastic surges — fast-moving waves of scorching ash and gas travelling at over 100 km/h — ultimately buried the town under a deep layer of hot material. People caught in those surges would have perished almost instantly from the heat. Excavations in the 1980s uncovered hundreds of skeletons near the ancient waterfront. They had sheltered there, waiting for rescue.
Arriving at Herculaneum around 10:00 a.m., we could clearly see how the modern town (Ercole), sits high above the ancient one, with the ruins nestled in a deep pit of volcanic debris. Herculaneum was a wealthy resort town in its day, boasting sewers built under the streets — unlike Pompeii, where everything drained into the roads. Wandering through Herculaneum’s narrow lanes, elegant houses, and shops was incredible, even if we were quickly roasted by the sun.
After about an hour and a half, baked and bedraggled, we drove to Pompeii for lunch. Once refreshed, we set out to explore Pompeii.
Pompeii was larger and more of a bustling commercial center, I guess you’d call it a service town, with a population estimated between 11,000 and 20,000. Its layout follows a tight grid of narrow streets lined with houses, shops, forums, theatres, and even an arena. To live there would have felt very busy and claustrophobic, I imagine, even without the looming threat of volcanic doom.
A word about ancient sanitation: Herculaneum’s wealthy residents enjoyed relatively clean streets because their sewage drained beneath them, heading to the sea. Pompeii, however, let everything run down the streets themselves, eventually collecting in cisterns and flowing out to sea. It’s difficult to imagine the smells, but the stone pedestrian crossings, raised above street level, hint at the less-than-pleasant walking conditions.
It was over 30 degrees, and after about an hour we were utterly cooked. Thankfully, Pompeii has plenty of drinking fountains, many are originals from 2000 years ago, so we stayed hydrated before returning to Agerola. Pompeii, Herculaneum and a large part of the coastal area, were serviced by a huge aqueduct, the Agua Augusta, which ran from the mountains behind Vesuvius. It was destroyed by the eruption and we were drinking municipial water now, (and it was good BTW).
That evening, we joined a cooking class at the hotel, learning to make pasta and cook sea bream. Shannon made tiramisu, which might be her true Amalfi legacy. It was a wonderful, if staggeringly hot, start to our journey — and we collapsed into bed early, ready for the coast itself.
First Impressions of the Amalfi Coast
The next morning brought our first taste of the Amalfi Coast proper. Less than a kilometre from our hotel, we rounded a bend and VOILA, the coastline unfurled in front of us! Mountains plunged into a shimmering sea, pastel villages clung to cliffs, and we found ourselves wondering whether our travel insurance covered vertigo. No wonder the Amalfi Coast has been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1997. Even UNESCO couldn’t resist these views.
The Famous Coastal Drive
Forget the fantasy of a breezy Italian road trip, silk scarf blowing in the wind. The Amalfi Drive is a nerve-jangling ride on roads so narrow that two passing buses can easily exchange business cards. Each hairpin turn reveals breathtaking scenery – and another tour bus coming straight at you.
Parking is an extreme sport, and any hotel you choose might require climbing so many stairs that your Fitbit explodes. The route’s official name, Strada Statale 163 Amalfitana, was commissioned by King Ferdinand II of the Two Sicilies in the 19th century. Safe to assume he wasn’t behind the wheel.
Two views of the road winding down the mountain, Hard to get a good sense of the “tightness” from a photograph, but it was definitely challenging – actually just getting parked would give me nightmares!
Exploring Amalfi
Amalfi, once a powerful maritime republic in the Middle Ages, seems to have sprouted organically from the mountainside. Steep alleys branch off the central piazza, each offering either an uphill climb or… a steeper uphill climb. It’s a stunning town, but the heat during our visit turned every stairway into an impromptu stairmaster session. The crowds didn’t help either.
Yet even as we huffed and puffed, it was easy to imagine a romantic stay here — ideally in cooler months when the throngs of tourists disperse. Between 839 and 1200 AD, Amalfi was one of four major maritime republics, alongside Venice, Pisa, and Genoa. Its ships traded as far as North Africa and Byzantium, and its influence was once vast.
Ferry to Positano
After lunch, we took a ferry to Positano — only to discover that Amalfi, which we’d thought impossibly vertical, suddenly seemed as flat as Saskatchewan. Positano is a marvel of stacked pastel buildings cascading down a cliff.
We enjoyed lunch, strolled shady lanes, and browsed ceramic studios selling everything from plates to entire dining tables, all beautifully hand-painted and made of stone. Lovely, but not quite practical as a carry-on.
Of course, one thing that was essential in our daily routine was gelato.
On the Amalfi Coast, gelato isn’t just a treat — it’s a survival strategy. Whether you’re sweating your way up Positano’s endless staircases or recovering from the blazing sun in Pompeii, a scoop of lemon or pistachio gelato is essential for morale. It’s cold, creamy, and somehow makes even the steepest climbs feel slightly more manageable. Consider it the region’s most delicious form of air conditioning.
Positano radiates glamour. Beachfront restaurants serve delicious seafood to diners who look as though they’ve stepped out of a fashion shoot.
Meanwhile, the beaches themselves are narrow, jam-packed, and made of volcanic ash “sand,” which feels more like a giant ashtray than a tropical paradise. If it’s silky white sand you’re after, Mexico might be a safer bet – unless you’re keen on volcanic exfoliation.
John Steinbeck famously called Positano “a dream place that isn’t quite real” in a 1953 Harper’s Bazaar article. Can’t argue with that.
Romantic Chaos: The Spirit of the Amalfi Coast
Despite the heat, the endless steps, and the sense that gravity was actively plotting against us, there’s an undeniable magic to this coast. Homes perch on ancient terraces, ruins peek from beneath modern balconies, and lemon trees spill over every wall. The architecture looks improvisational, as though the towns have been under constant renovation for centuries – which, frankly, they have.
Is the Amalfi Coast for everyone? Maybe not. Unless you’re part mountain goat or fabulously wealthy and arriving by yacht, it’s not the most relaxing destination. We developed deep respect for the locals – and for the donkeys hauling supplies up and down the cliffs. The way homes expand over generations, stacking vertically and horizontally, creates a sort of architectural lasagna that’s both charming and chaotic.
Path of the Gods Hike
Determined to earn our pasta, we hiked part of the Path of the Gods – an ancient mule trail connecting Agerola in the mountains and Positano on the coast. The views were jaw-dropping. So was the heat. Fortunately, the route offers endless drinking fountains, and there’s the comforting knowledge that in Italy, even a short walk often ends in a mozzarella-making demo.
After our sweaty trek, we watched a mozzarella-making demonstration, (using buffalo milk, if you please), and sampled the delicious results. Worth every step, though we needed naps afterward to recover from both the hike and the cheese. The Path of the Gods was historically used by shepherds and traders to move goods, (and lemons, did I mention lemons?), safely along the coast, avoiding the unpredictable sea routes below.
Day Trip to Capri
Capri is where the ancient Romans partied, poets swooned and modern tourists test the limits of their credit cards. After a ferry ride, we headed up the mountain, (there is no across here, only up or down), to Anacapri, home to Axel Munthe’s villa and gardens. Munthe, a Swedish doctor and author, wrote The Story of San Michele in the 1940s, a bestseller that bankrolled this beautiful villa. The villa, perched high above the sea, is serene and beautifully preserved.
Modern Capri became famous as a luxury resort with liberal morals and therefore popular with the arts and gay community before the rest of Europe liberalized. Capri town itself oozes chic sophistication: designer boutiques, elegant piazzas, and a constant hint of expensive perfume. It’s stunning and one of our favourite parts of the tour.
We learned that Emperor Tiberius retired to Capri during the last decade of his life, living in the Villa Jovis, (of which there are extensive remains, which can be visited, if you don’t mind a 2 km hike. Uphill). The stories about his decadent parties might be exaggerated, but let’s just say Capri has always had a reputation for luxury and scandal.
Ravello: Music, Gardens, and History
By the time we reached Ravello on our final day, we were thoroughly exhausted and half-ready to call it quits. Yet Ravello turned out to be the hidden gem of the whole trip — charming, elegant, and refreshingly calm. Perched high above the sea, it’s a mix of medieval streets, sun-drenched piazzas, and lemon groves bearing fruit the size of softballs.
Ravello offered stunning views without the crushing crowds, and its shady lanes and beautiful villas felt like a gentle reward for all our uphill struggles. It quickly became our favourite town on the Amalfi Coast, a perfect place to catch our breath and savour the beauty we’d been chasing all week. I would say it was the highlight of the week!
In the 19th century, Ravello became a stop on the Grand Tour – an informal loosely laid out circuit that wealthy travellers of the day would travel – drawing Earls, artists, writers, and composers. Wagner wrote parts of Parsifal here, and D.H. Lawrence wandered its lanes. The views alone could inspire a symphony — or at least a smug Instagram post.
We visited Villa Cimbrone, built in the late 1800s by British aristocrat William Becket. Its terraces offer breathtaking panoramas, and the lush gardens look like they belong in a Renaissance painting. Meanwhile, back in Britain, Becket and his political peers were battling ferociously over such outrageous ideas as giving coalminers under 12 a day off a week. Perspective, indeed.
Ravello today hosts a world-famous music festival each summer, staged in open-air venues overlooking the glittering sea — a venue unmatched by any local bandstand. The Ravello Music Festival is Italy’s historic summer festival of music and arts, held high above the Amalfi Coast, known for world-class classical, jazz, and dance performances, especially the magical “Concert at Dawn” from Villa Rufolo’s iconic stage, with origins tied to Richard Wagner’s visits. Running for about two months, it features renowned orchestras and soloists against breathtaking sea views, offering a unique cultural experience blending natural beauty with high art.
Reflections and Practical Takeaways
We came. We saw. We climbed. And climbed. And sweated. And the hills conquered! Italy was having a heatwave and we got to experience it first hand.
The Amalfi Coast is jaw-droppingly beautiful, but it’s not for the faint of heart — or the faint of calves. The roads are dizzying, the stairs relentless, and the summer heat unforgiving. Did I mention the heat? They told us it was 35. It felt like 45!
Would we return? Maybe — but preferably aboard a luxury yacht, letting someone else handle the hairpin turns. Capri is enchanting but budget-busting. Amalfi and Positano are magical, but possibly better for short visits than week-long stays. Ravello, meanwhile, offers beauty and culture without quite so much chaos.
After our return, I was told by a reliable source that a well know English musician, having played solo for an hour at a reception in Rovello, immediately got into his private taxi and within 30 minutes was relaxing in his friend’s luxury yacht, moored offshore near Amalfi. Now THAT’S the way to do it.
Bottom line: If you’re reasonably fit, patient, and fond of lemon everything, the Amalfi Coast delivers an unforgettable adventure. Just remember, around here, there’s no such thing as “just a few more steps”.
