Naples and the Amalfi Coast

Photographs by Mike Vickers and Jan Jones

Feature photo above: Naples, and wherever you are, Vesuvius is always there in the background. That’s unnervingly close for a volcano which last popped its top in 1944. Oddly enough, my father actually witnessed that eruption.

Monday, and a very early start saw us arriving at the magnificent Lulsgate Bottom airport (aka Bristol) for a 6.15am April departure to Naples. The flight was reassuringly uneventful, but as we descended on final approach, I looked out the window and realised we were heading into peril. There it was, vast, brooding, thankfully devoid of any smoke, but always a threat – Vesuvius, the most famous and dangerous volcano on the planet, its naked cone dominating the landscape around Naples Bay. It last erupted in 1944, an event witnessed by my father who, as a very young man, was in the area helping to bring the Second World War to an end. That was 82 years ago, barely moments on the geological scale.

We skirted Vesuvius and landed on a very fine Mediterranean morning. Naples airport was a bit tatty. Most airports are bright and shiny, well-maintained, spick and span, neatly organised and clean. Not this one. It was – well, more grubby than shiny. Messy. It took ages to get through passport control due to the inability of the automated kiosks to handle British passports (we’ve all seen the news about how the new EES system is struggling) and by the time we did finally stagger into the baggage hall our designated carousel was already brimming over with luggage from the next incoming flight, resulting in a search for our cases amongst many standing abandoned all over the place.

Not a good start.

However, Antonio was still waiting patiently for us when we did finally emerge into the arrivals lounge and drove us almost to the hotel. We had to walk the last hundred yards or so as didn’t want to take his minibus down the final stretch of road because he might damage his vehicle, so we had to drag our cases to the Hotel Casablanca.

That should have been a clue…

We had a long wait for room to be made ready, so we deposited our bags in reception and walked to the nearby Carlino Cafe at end of our street for a local caffè lungo and a toasted sandwich. We were made most welcome by the barista, a jovial man possessing more than a passing resemblance to top TV chef Tom Kerridge, who, by coincidence, also hails from our home city of Gloucester. The clientele were all wonderfully cheerful, but the toilets were dire. I stepped inside to find a bare room totally devoid of everything except a pan. No toilet seat or paper, which we very quickly found out was perfectly normal in this neck of the woods. Note to self: Must always carry plenty of tissues. Just in case. To be honest, if I’d been able to fit a toilet seat in my man bag, I would’ve.

Impressions of Naples? Well, it’s Italy’s third largest city at just over 2.1 million and appeared to be in a constant state of turmoil. The roads were packed with all manner of vehicles. It was noisy from the constant blare of sirens and horns, restlessly crowded, and the streets were lined with lots of grubby buildings covered in graffiti up to a height of about seven feet above the pavement, an indication of the average height and reach of its occupants. Experienced travel writers would gushingly enthuse and call it “authentic”. It wasn’t. It was down-at-heel, untidy, dirty and noisy.

After what seemed an age, we finally allowed up to our room. The hotel was more than a little disappointing, with no lift, very steep stairs and narrow corridors. Our room was bland and colourless, with pale grey tiles and white and grey walls. It was tired and tatty, with only three coat hangers in the wardrobe. That’s a really bad sign. Our first floor balcony looked out over a litter-strewn street with cracked pavements dotted with holes, one dangerously foot-sized cavity so deep it was accumulating litter. In short, the area could best be described as rough. I suppose it was inevitable really, that one day, somewhere, we were going to get a dud hotel, and this was the one.

We rested, then walked out for an explore. The vicinity felt slightly threatening, probably because from the moment the aircraft door opened, everyone we encountered had been constantly warning us about pick pockets. I was very careful with my camera. We wandered into a nearby square in front of the main city railway station, then down the main street running past our corner coffee shop. We experienced a curious mixture of uneven and badly-maintained pavements, extensive distribution of litter and classy shops selling very nice clothes. We didn’t like it much.

The traffic was heavy and constantly chaotic. The best analogy I can think of is this: Imagine a long tall glass filled with ice cubes. The glass is the road, the ice cubes are stationary cars packed in and unable to move. Then pour in your drink. Any drink will do, but let’s say limoncello because its a local aperitif and a glorious yellow colour. As it pours in, the liquid tumbles chaotically around all the ices cubes, descending down the glass. That’s the tortuous passage of untold numbers of moped, scooters and motorbikes making their way through the traffic any way they can. Get the idea?

We eventually ended up sat in a cafe next to a fenced off building site watched over by a large tower crane. From the numerous signs it appeared to be a new underground metro station. It was actually, despite the construction work, quite a pleasant location, and we celebrated our arrival with Aperol spritz and nibbles whilst people watching before walking back to hotel for an early night.

Naples definitely needs to up its game.

Tuesday, and we woke to the street below our balcony busy with traffic, jets taking off overhead and more sirens. We tried out the hotel breakfast but it was really, really rubbish, just packets of stuff, nothing fresh on offer, no cooked course and even the water for our tea was microwaved. We asked for extra pillows on our way out but weren’t confident of their arrival.

So far, we were not at all impressed with Naples, but then we walked into the medieval old town to join a food tour. This was much more interesting. We explored a maze of very narrow streets that should have been fully pedestrianized but weren’t, so you’d be strolling along minding your own business when a beeping horn from a van less than half an inch from your arse made you jump out of your pants!

On the way to the meeting point for the food tour, we happened to come across the Purgatory Church and had a nose around the fascinating interior. Way back in the middle ages it was a thing to reduce your time in purgatory before passing on into heaven by caring for the skulls of the dead. Well, obviously they’re dead – they’re skulls! We descended into the crypt and although Jan would go no further, I continued on, discovering an even lower level and peering down, saw extensive skeletal remains piled in heaps. To be honest, it was a bit creepy.

The starting point of the food tour was in Bellini Square, where we met our host, Carmen. There were about a dozen in our group including Kim from Australia, some dryly amusing Swedes, a cruise party of four ladies from Liverpool and lovely Welsh couple, Deryl and Diane.

Gathering her charges together, Carmen took us off to explore the old town, and whenever we stopped, we set about sampling traditional Neapolitan street dishes with enormous enthusiasm. It was a hoot, but a hoot with delicious food. By this time the narrow streets were packed, including the famous Spaccanapoli, the dead straight narrow street that bisects the old town, hence its name, the Naples Splitter.

Carmen was really lovely, ushering her little party through the throngs, waving her colourful scarf above the crowds to guide us to our next destination. We stopped on multiple occasions for all manner of street food, including antipasti, local pizza fritta (yes, fried pizza), traditional pizza and finally gelato. Also visited a limoncello factory genially hosted by Mario. Carmen observed afterwards it has always been difficult to tell if he’s permanently drunk or not, but we had sample sips and his products were delicious and surprisingly punchy, so Jan and I plumped for him being permanently tipsy.

This most enjoyable of tours finished in the early afternoon at Piazza del Gesu Nuova and we strolled back to hotel through packed streets, with scooters and vans now ineffectually trying to force their way through the thick crowds. Not a chance. We had a great time and this prompted us to revise yesterday’s opinion of Naples. Perhaps it wasn’t too bad after all. It’s still tatty and strewn with litter and whoever laid the assault course pavements obviously had no practical experience with a spirit level, but the chatty crowds around us were all smiling and laughing, the locals we actually met were courteous, charming and funny and the architecture of their city was amazing.

We rested in our room for the remainder of the afternoon. Our extra pillows had not arrived. When we walked out that evening, we asked again for extra pillows. Oh, and a hair dryer

Strolled back to the big-crane-new-metro-station cafe again for an Aperol Spritz plus nibbles, then took an exploratory amble back through old town along brightly lit narrow streets teeming with people just settling down for their evening meal. There was quite a buzz. Kicked our way through the litter back to the hotel. Again, no extra pillows in sight, but at least we now have a hair dryer.

After a slow start, there were definite signs Naples had begun to up its game.

Wednesday dawned and we were now experienced enough to know we needed to skip the uninspiring hotel breakfast, heading instead to Carlino Cafe for cappuccinos and delicious pastries. That’s more like it! The red city hop on/hop off bus took us into the centre where we alighted at the main stop in front of the Castel Nuovo, which you can’t really miss because it’s enormous, and we explored the nearby amazing glass-roofed Galleria Umberto I, a fabulously graceful 19th century elegant arcade filled with classy shops and tourists standing around in slack-jawed amazement. Well, I was doing that, even if everyone else was busy shopping or texting on their phones.

Back at the main bus stop, we then went on the blue route which took us away from centre on a really lovely tour out along the shoreline towards Posillipo. Fortunately, all the buses were double-deckers so we nabbed the front seats up on the top deck with lovely couple in from Tasmania. Goodness, we are getting to chat to people from all over the globe on this holiday.

The scenery was truly wonderful, offering world-class panoramic views of Naples, Vesuvius and across the bay to Sorrento under a cloudless blue sky. This was a really very pleasant way to spend an hour or so and on returning to the city centre, found our way back to the Piazza del Gesu Nuova, which we’d visited yesterday with Carmen and the Jolly Swedes.

Wow, I’ve just realised that’s a great name for a new K-Pop band. Frankly, to actually put that last statement in context, believe me when I say no one is more astonished than me, dear gentle reader, that I’ve actually heard of K-Pop!

Back to reality, we had a super lunch at a cafe in the square, our first cooked meal since arriving on Monday, then tried and failed to find the lower station of the funicular railway up to Castel Sant’ Elmo, therefore missing out on its spectacular views over the city. Not entirely disappointed, if truth be told, and relieved to have avoided the effort of having to climb any stairs – it’s not the going up, it’s the coming down that gives us trouble nowadays – we hopped back on to the red bus and hopped off at the stop opposite our hotel. We can recommend this service – it does exactly what it says in the brochure.

At last, on returning to our room, the extra pillows had arrived, and we celebrated their tardy but most welcome arrival with a late afternoon rest.

Our evening was simplicity itself. We walked down to Carlino for a really – and I mean really – strong Aperol spritz while engaging in a leisurely look at the passing life of Naples. My word, was that drink punchy. Have you ever noticed how strange it is to brush teeth that are in your own mouth but that you can’t feel?

By now, we both agreed that Naples had magnificently upped its game. In some ways it’s a pity we’re moving on tomorrow. At first we thought it was just chaotic, noisy and litter-strewn. It still is, but we have now revised our initial assessment.

Got to say Naples is – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – actually, well, um, er – “authentic”.

Thursday morning and we found it had rained overnight. Good job we brought our magic Spanish umbrella – it only allows rain at night. Still refusing to eat breakfast at the hotel, we sat at Carlino for cappuccinos and pastries. The rain eventually petered out and with a couple of hours to spend before the transfer minibus arrived to take us to Vico Equense, we strolled through the old town, rubbed Pulcinella’s nose and enjoyed a leisurely coffee in Piazza del Gesu Nuova before returning to hotel to await our ride.

We were not sorry at all to see the back of Hotel Casablanca. Even though we were obviously waiting with our cases on a seat outside the entrance, no staff showed any interest in us, nor enquired if we’d enjoyed our stay. And there’s the rub. Jan pointed out that they just didn’t care, and that’s what made it by far the worst hotel we’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.

So, off we set on the second part of our holiday. Battling through horrendous traffic snarl-ups, our driver celebrated reaching an open highway by flooring it big time, his black Mercedes leaping forward like a frightened antelope with a hungry lion batting at its backside. Not quite as quick as a dolmus driver in downtown Fethiye, mind you, but we did wonder if he had Turkish blood running in the family somewhere.

The motorway took us around the foot of Vesuvius, which loomed large off to our left, along a winding corniche and finally into Vico Equense, the location of the Hotel Aquea, our home for the next week. At this point we got lost. It’s not a large town but our driver’s sat nav took us down ever narrowing streets and left us there. He wound his window down and engaged the services of a local scooter rider. This was a gentleman of advanced years who replied with some vigour. There was lots of arm waving. Now, my knowledge of Italian is zero, but even I knew the gist of his reply:

‘You’ve already driven past it. I think you’ve been somewhat unwise to follow your satnav. Doesn’t know what the hell it’s talking about. You need to go back through town. It’s the stand-out can’t-miss-it huge building on the left with the giant Hotel Aquea sign out front!’ 

Something like that.

Our new hotel could not be more different than the one we’d just left behind. The receptionist was charm personified. We were booked in and shown to a lovely, spacious third storey room with a balcony and expansive views of the Bay of Naples and Vesuvius. It was all really rather lovely.

Unpacked and settled in, went for a stroll around the delightful hotel gardens and spotless pool. Then wandered around town. It didn’t take very long at all. Obviously, Vico Equense is not quite on the same scale as Naples, a city of millions, but it had all we’ll need. There’s a roundabout at the centre of this pretty little town, from which radiate shop and restaurant-lined streets. We also discovered that although on the coast, you can’t easily reach the sea from the town as it’s perched on top of a vertical two hundred foot high cliff.

We quickly found a very nice cafe and sat in the sun eating gelato and drinking coffee – as you do – and all was well with the world again.

We rested back in our room before dining at the hotel. Having established a routine, I ordered an Aperol spritz while Jan had a limoncello spritz. Ten minutes later my teeth had gone completely numb. Boy, that was a strong one. We had bruschetta followed by beef for dinner and it was one of the most delicious meals I’ve had for a very long time, served by amiable Mimo. Wobbled off to bed after a long day.

The following morning, having enjoyed a blissfully quiet siren-free bedroom after the hustle and bustle of Naples, I stepped out onto the balcony to check if there was any smoke puffing out the top of Vesuvius. Good, there was none. The garden and pool below looked delightful. After enjoying an excellent buffet breakfast, we went for an ambling stroll around town and down to a  lovely viewpoint overlooking nearby Seiano beach. The day was bright, warm and sunny, ideal for relaxing and reading books. Which we did.

That evening, a comfortably short stroll into town eventually brought us to Al Buco pizza restaurant. This place was very lively – it was a Friday night – and we thoroughly enjoyed a delicious pizza each, washed down by an Aperol spritz. You may have noticed I’ve quite taken to this particular aperitif…

The following morning, after a quick first-thing Vesuvius check and fortified by another superb breakfast, our gentlemanly receptionist, Giacamo, had arranged a day crossing to the nearby island of Capri. We walked to the bus station and were picked up by a minibus full of grinning faces and taken down an extremely bendy and very narrow road to Seiano, the small and compact harbour port nestling below the cliffs of Vico Equense.

We joined a small group led by Marco, our guide, comprising the usual eclectic mix of nationalities, in this case Irish, American and Spanish. Our party then joined a throng to board a decent sized ferry, big enough to carry maybe 150 plus people.

I’ve got to say we powered across the bay at a very sprightly pace and into Marina Grande on the north coast of Capri. The harbour was very busy. Bustling boats came and went in all directions, ranging in size from personal yachts to substantial vehicle ferries in from Naples. There were an awful lot of people milling around, despite this still being very early April. Perhaps this because it was a Saturday.

After disembarking, we transferred to a local round-the-island boat tour and chugged off. Vertiginous cliffs towered above us. It really was a lovely day to be out on the sea. Capri is not a big island so we were back in Marina Grande in under two hours, but the views were really delightful – and we got to see Sophia Loren’s gorgeous cliff-hugging villa overlooking the dramatic Faraglione Rocks. As we passed, the captain paid homage, calling out, ’Ciao, Sophia, ciao.’

Back in Marina Grande, we caught a hop on/hop off bus and threaded through very narrow streets up to Capri Town before tackling the rather scary ever-ascending and even narrower continually climbing vertiginous cliff-hugging road to Anacapri. The traffic was constant and everyone was swinging out onto the wrong side of the road to get around the succession of tight hairpin bends.

Piece of cake!

Anacapri was heaving with visitors – and this was a quiet out-of-season day! Stepping off the bus, we immediately left the crowds behind by following an obscure path that took us around the back of the crowded, bright and colourful flower-laden cemetery to the bottom station of the chairlift. This was having a busy morning taking a constant stream of tourists up to the summit of Monte Solaro, the highest peak on the island. With my vertigo, there was absolutely no chance in hell of me ever going near that without liberal administration of some pretty hefty under-the-counter anaesthesia so we dived into the Columbus Ristorante next door to the terminus for a spot of lunch. Upstairs, we found a really lovely covered roof terrace and enjoyed a super meal comprising pasta dishes served in the metal pans they were cooked in, plus green salad. This was properly traditional authentic Italian cooking and was absolutely delicious.

There were so many tourists milling around that we didn’t bother looking around the town and taking the bus, drove back down the sky highway to Capri Town, but we didn’t stop there either as it was simply far too crowded.

By the time we returned to Marina Grande, the place was absolutely heaving. God knows what it’s like on a busy day. We walked along the harbour front, managed to find a seat up the only back street and people watched for an hour or so before meeting Marco and our party for our return voyage to Seiano, which actually turned out to be an entertaining and spray-themed crossing, once again at a very lively pace. Eventually we both became fairly well soaked, but the sun was out and the water sparkled and it made you feel very much alive. Well, it made us feel alive, others were not so keen – the boat was pitching around all over the place with passengers huddling out of the spray. Some looked distinctly queasy. Fortunately, one guy intercepted three-quarters of the spray that was heading in our direction, but even with that protection, Jan and I eventually had to take off our dripping glasses because we couldn’t see a thing..

We docked back in Seiano and the minibus was waiting to take us back to hotel. Giacamo welcomed us with knowing grin, chuckling at our dampness.

Never was a long hot shower and huge comfortable bed more welcome.

Drawing the curtains back revealed a bright and sunny Sunday morning. Did the usual first-thing Vesuvius check – still reassuringly smoke-free – and after another grand breakfast we took a very leisurely stroll into the town centre. Please understand this was an extremely modest journey of well under a hundred yards, or ninety metres for those of you with a metric upbringing. That’s English metres, of course, for the rest of the world it’s the incorrectly spelt meters.

By now exhausted from our challenging hike, we stopped at the Gran Caffè Zerilli for a mandatory cappuccino in the sun, watching the world pass by, mostly on bicycles and motorbikes. We’d only been in Vico Equense for a day but Zerilli was already our favourite spot. Located on the roundabout in the middle of town, it was the perfect place to people watch – and the pastries were pretty top notch as well.

The remainder of the day was spent relaxing in the hotel garden, reading our books under the welcome shade of an orange tree. Lunch was a simple burger in a lovely soft roll and served with chips. Even in Italy, a nation renowned for its exquisite cuisine, that’s sometimes all you want.

Monday, May the Fourth – Star Wars day! Always makes me smile, that one. Anyway, we woke to a duller day, cooler, with light cloud. Our sunny days are now over, according to BBC Weather. Vesuvius still okay. We were booked on a day’s voyage along the Amalfi coast so had an early breakfast and were ready to be picked up outside the railway station at 7.45 by minibus. We were the first on board and the next stop  was just as we exited town on the Sorrento road. There was a wait. Then a longer wait. Finally, a couple appeared. Our driver was angry about the delay and berated them soundly. We drove in frigid silence to Piano di Sorrento where he dropped us off. On exiting the bus, the couple immediately offered their profuse apologies as they’d been told to wait inside the hotel – and that was how we met Viju and Anita, a charming couple on holiday from Bangalore in India.

David, our guide, arrived, then a busload turned up to join our foursome, including Aussies, Italians, other English and Spanish couples and families. Anita went off to complain about the rude driver to David. Our party walked to a large public lift and we descended down to the harbour, climbed aboard a substantial day boat and set off at a swift pace to Amalfi. We’d been strongly advised by people who had visited this part of Italy that the best way to see the Amalfi coast was from the sea as the roads are crowded, slow and tortuous, so that was why we were on the boat. Which hurtled along. With Viju and Anita. Splendid.

The coastline was rugged, with narrow inlets and sheer cliffs. Wooded slopes above the cliffs were dotted with colourful houses, villas and villages. It was very picturesque. After an hour or so, we pulled in to Amalfi harbour. Like Capri, the place was bustling, with lots of boats, yachts and large day boats disgorging or collecting hundreds of tourists, including us. The harbour was very busy so we just followed the crowds and a short walk brought us to the town centre, a pedestrianised square dominated by the cathedral located at the top of a broad flight of stairs. A young bride and groom were posing for photos on these steps, but I can guarantee every one of their wedding photos will have loads of waving tourists in the background.

The place was absolutely heaving. It would have been lovely had there been a lot less tourists. I think the same thought also might possibly have crossed the minds of all the other tourists around us. Viju and Anita wandered off so Jan and I immediately headed out of own on the only road leading inland. At first, we had to battle through the milling thong. Sorry, weird autocorrect – throng! However, the further away from the town square, the thinner the crowds. We soon exited the town and walked up a narrow valley, almost a gorge, with cliffs on either side terraced to provide purchase for hundreds of lemon trees, all draped in netting to stop the lemons dropping from a great height and stoving in the skulls of unsuspecting tourists below.

At the end of our walk, and by this time there was hardly anyone around, we found Cantina Miseria E Nobilta, a rather unique roadside restaurant-cum-music venue. Inside, the restaurant was a fascinating room full of tables for winter dining, various musical instruments and a small stage. Think cosy Parisian jazz club, but with a hospital bed in one corner – no idea why – and a painted portrait of Che Guevara in pride of place behind the bar.

Che swung it for us. This was a perfect stop for lunch. We sat outside under cover from the sun chatting to an Aussie couple on the next table. To start, Jan and I shared bruschetta topped with fried aubergines and red peppers, followed by the house special lemon spaghetti for Jan while I had meatballs with tomato sauce and spaghetti. This was traditional home cooked Nonna’s food and absolutely delicious.

Sated and happy, we waddled our way back down the hill into town, instantly encountering the milling crowds of shuffling tourists again, met Anita and Viju waiting for the boat, boarded and set off at an even faster pace back to Positano. As we rounded the headland and nosed in towards the quay, all we could see was an unbroken wall of standing tourists. This was a popular place.

Now, we instantly liked Positano more than Amalfi. Sure, it was equally as stuffed to the eyeballs with tourists – including us – but it was smaller, more compact and a lot prettier, with the cliffs covered in colourful houses clinging on for dear life to the near vertical rock faces.

Abandoning plans to explore the town, we dodged our way through the crowds and found a seafront cafe with lovely views of tourists walking past. Still, the coffee was very nice – and it was superbly located for people watching. Good job because there were a lot of people to watch, all coming in distinct waves as each tour boat docked and ejected its cargo of phone-carrying brightly-dressed passengers. The place hummed – and this was early May. Lord knows what it’s like in peak season.

We were shepherded back on the boat again by David and set off for home at an even greater rate of knots. Whatever engine powered this thing, it had a veritable stampede of horses under its belt – I reckon you could have easily waterskied off the back end! Impressive waves leapt from the bow as we forged our way back to Piano di Sorrento harbour. By this time, Jan and I wisely sat inside as the wind from the speed of our passage had started stripping the clothes off those cowering up on the sun deck above!

All joking aside, the return journey took no time at all, everyone piled into the lift to take us back up to the cliff top above the harbour and we dispersed to our appointed vehicles. David smiled reassuringly at Anita and Viju. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘we’ve got a different driver to take you back to the hotel.’ True to his word, this new driver was indeed both courteous and considerate.

After such a long day, we had an early evening coffee and tasty pastry at Zerilli, then made our weary way back to the hotel for a steaming hot shower and bed.

Mmmm, bed…

You’ll not be surprised to hear we had a good night’s sleep. I executed my mandatory Vesuvius check and we took a leisurely breakfast. The weather was dull – we couldn’t even see Naples across the bay – so we explored the numerous narrow back alleys and viewpoints below the hotel, eventually ending up in a little park hidden from the road by walls and hedges, where we sat amongst the roses watching lizards scamper up and down the wall behind our seat.

Later, we met Anita and Viju in Zirilli cafe and chatted over coffee. They were off to Copenhagen tomorrow. I love that about holidays, when you have fleeting meetings with lovely people from all over the world. When we got back to the hotel I looked up Bangalore online. It’s India’s fourth largest city at just under 15 million. That’s a big place. The only city I’ve ever visited that’s larger is Istanbul – but it’s a close run thing…

The following morning started dull but brightened up as the day progressed. This was to be our last full day so after breakfast walked to the station and got on the train to Sorrento. We obtained our tickets as the train was waiting at the platform and were away within a couple of minutes of boarding. On leaving the station, we immediately entered a tunnel, emerging to pass over a deep valley on a bridge and stop at Seiano station. On leaving that station, we again immediately entered another much longer tunnel and emerged on the outskirts of Sorrento, drifting through lemon tree orchards before terminating at the city’s station. I think we spent more time underground on that short journey, but it’s hardly surprising as the landscape here is extremely crumpled, the rugged coastline bisected by deep ravines.

One amusing incident did happen as we were approaching Sorrento. A seated passenger gathered himself and stood up to offer me his seat at the exact moment the train, for some unknown reason, braked violently, unbalancing me even though I was holding on. As he rose to his feet, I stumbled, swung around and fell into his seat. Two seconds earlier and I would have plumped down straight onto his lap, no doubt to his surprise and consternation.

Every witness around us giggled.

We liked Sorrento immediately. It had a good feel to it and was the first place we’d visited along this coast that was not spoiled by heaving masses of milling tourists. Yes, we know that also incuded us. There were still plenty of people about, but cruising the streets was not at all exasperating, unlike in Naples or Amalfi where, no matter the time of day, you usually had your nose pressed into the rucksack of the person in front.

We walked from the station into the old town and found the usual intersecting maze of extremely narrow picturesque streets shaded from the no doubt blistering summer sun by tall buildings on either side. These streets were a joy to explore and we spent a good few hours investigating the city’s delightful byways at the most leisurely of paces. Jan bought a wooden wristwatch. Yes, you read that correctly. It’s unique, very stylish and a reminder of our lovely visit to Sorrento.

Back in Vico Equense, we stopped at a viewpoint on the walk back to the hotel and sat looking out over the stunningly beautiful bay towards Naples and Vesuvius. There was still no worrying puff of smoke suddenly drifting up from its summit, which is good news for the three million people who now live in its shadow. Sadly, one day this will not be the case, but the authorities keep a very close eye on this most destructive of volcanoes.

As if the population didn’t have enough to to worry about, just to the west of Naples lies the Campi Flegrei, a 13km wide volcanic caldera, where the land is currently rising at a rate of 10mm per month, pushed up by magma seeping ever closer to the surface. One day it will erupt – and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that will not be a good day. I only hope our visit is not the harbinger of doom – only months after our trip to Iceland in 2023, the volcano behind Grindavik erupted.

Oh, god, I hope I haven’t become a volcano whisperer!

We stayed in for our final evening and had dinner in the hotel restaurant. The meal was sumptuous, my beef fillet was one of the best I’ve ever tasted, served with panache by the ever-smiling Mimo. We returned to our room to pack, and I have to admit that after a half bottle of wine and a limoncello during dinner, that proved a bit of a challenge…

Woke early the following morning, repacked our strangely untidy suitcases, took a quick breakfast and then Gianni was there, waiting with a smile and his minibus, another ubiquitous black Mercedes. We had a very pleasant drive back to the airport on roads that were surprisingly clear of traffic. Although crowded, the terminal was easy enough to navigate, but we did have to be manually processed by an immigration officer as the EES kiosks could not cope with our British passports. Then we were on our way, rising above the sprawling conurbation below and passing the cone of Vesuvius for the last time.

Still no smoke!

Notes:

Hotel Casablanca, Naples – I will not pass on their contact details. This will compel you to check it out online, and at that point you’ll see it wasn’t just us who found it, well – disappointing. The rooms were tired and for a city noted for its cuisine, the breakfast offering was lazy and disappointing. It’s not the most welcoming of places, and we know what we’re talking about because we used to own a hotel. However, to be fair, on the plus side its location was within easy walking distance of the old town and the railway station, but please be assured there are plenty of very acceptable alternatives that can be found all over the city.

Naples Food Tour – Jan used getyourguide.com to book Guided Street Food Tour with Spritz. This was a thoroughly enjoyable way to familiarize yourselves with the geography of the old town and the tasty food you can find there. If you’re lucky, you’ll get Carmen as your guide. She was an absolute delight.

Hotel Aequea, Vico Equense – beautiful location with courteous, friendly and helpful staff, plus a fine menu of really delicious food – a winning combination. Our ensuite room was spacious, bright, very comfortable and from its balcony had a direct line-of-sight view of the world’s most famous volcano. Loved it.

Hotel Aequea, Corso Filangeri 48, Vico Equense, IT 80069
Website: aequahotel.net
Telephone: +39 08180 15331

The day boat trips to both Capri and the Amalfi Coast were arranged by the hotel.

Gran Caffè Zerilli, Via Roma, 6, Vico Equense, IT 80069
Phone: +39 081 879 8211
Menu: grancaffezerilli.it

Cantina Miseria E Nobilta, Via delle Cartiere 98, Amalfi, IT 84011
Telephone: +39 089 873420.

From Vico Equense to Sorrento by train, each way fare €2.40 per person (2026 price).

Step Count: 85109 steps, equating to around 40 miles, the distance between the centre of the universe (Gloucester) and Portishead in Somerset.

Finally, another huge thank you to our Travel Counsellors superstar, Sharron Weatherly (01453 808010) for creating this really rather super break. This was another seamless trip and apart from the Casablanca Hotel in Naples – and it seems their marketing representation of themselves might not be exactly aligned with reality – we had a brilliant holiday. What ever you do, please give Naples a chance. Yes, it’s grubby, noisy, strewn with litter and there are no doubt areas where pickpockets do prey on the unwary, but it’s also vibrant, fascinating, alive and – yup, you’ve guessed it – authentic.