Amalfi Coast Week

Private transfer from Naples airport — the drive along the coast road is the first act. Hairpin turns, blue water far below, lemon groves clinging to the cliffs.

Arrive Positano. Check in at Le Sirenuse — the red palazzo above the beach. Your room has a balcony with a view that stops conversation.

Settle in. Step onto the balcony. The town tumbles down the cliff in pastel — pink, ochre, white. Fishing boats bob in the cove below.

Walk down to the beach via the narrow stone steps. Limestone warm underfoot. Buy a lemon granita from the stand near the jetty.

Aperitivo at Franco's Bar — the hotel's terrace bar. Negroni, olives, and the Tyrrhenian Sea turning copper.

Welcome dinner on the terrace at Ristorante Max — handmade pasta, local anchovies, white wine from Furore. The candles gutter in the sea breeze.

Breakfast on the hotel terrace — sfogliatella, fresh figs, espresso strong enough to wake the cliff.

Private boat charter along the coast — a classic gozzo with a local captain who knows every cove. The engine cuts; you swim in water so blue it looks lit from below.

Stop at the Fiordo di Furore — a hidden fjord between two cliffs. Swim through the arch.

Anchor off the Li Galli islands — once owned by Rudolf Nureyev. Snorkel above posidonia meadows and sea urchins.

Lunch at Da Adolfo — accessible only by boat. Red-and-white parasols on the rocks, grilled mozzarella on lemon leaves, rosé poured generously.

Cruise back slowly. The captain takes the scenic route past Praiano.

Return to the hotel. Rest. The sun has done its work.

Aperitivo at La Zagara — live guitar, bougainvillea overhead, limoncello the colour of afternoon sun.

Dinner at Next2 — contemporary Italian, candlelit terrace, each plate a quiet composition.

Espresso and cornetto at the hotel. Take your time — Ravello doesn't rush.

Drive to Ravello — thirty minutes up the switchbacks, each turn revealing another impossible view.

Visit Villa Cimbrone gardens — walk the Terrace of Infinity, where the view drops away to nothing but sky and sea. Gore Vidal called it the most beautiful place on earth.

Wander Ravello's quiet streets. Browse ceramics at a family workshop that's been painting by hand for three generations.

Lunch at Rossellinis, Palazzo Avino — two Michelin stars, a terrace above the clouds, and cooking that respects every ingredient.

Visit Villa Rufolo — Moorish cloisters, layered gardens, and the stage where Ravello's summer concerts are held above the sea.

Gelato in the piazza. Sit on the stone wall. There is genuinely nowhere to be.

Return via Atrani — the smallest town on the coast. A single piazza, a church, and a beach the size of a living room. Have a Peroni at the bar on the square.

Dinner at La Sponda, Le Sirenuse — 400 candles, no electric light, bougainvillea framing every table. The scialatielli ai frutti di mare is perfect.

Sleep in. Breakfast whenever you surface — the terrace is there when you're ready.

Walk down to Spiaggia Grande. Rent a sunbed and an umbrella. Read. Swim. Read again.

Lunch on the beach — a plate of fried calamari and a cold Falanghina from the nearest café.

Return to the hotel pool. The infinity edge dissolves into the sea below.

Spa at Le Sirenuse — Aveda treatments in a vaulted stone room. A 75-minute facial that erases the week.

Golden hour walk through Positano's backstreets — Via dei Mulini, hand-painted tiles on every wall, the scent of jasmine and woodsmoke.

Sundowners at Music on the Rocks — cocktails carved into the cliff, waves crashing below the glass floor.

Dinner at Zass, Il San Pietro di Positano — the restaurant is reached by glass elevator through the cliff. Candlelit terrace, seafood risotto, and the sound of the sea sixty metres below.

Early breakfast. Today you cross the water.

Ferry to Capri — 45 minutes across the bay. The island rises from the sea like a stage set.

Arrive Marina Grande. Take the funicular up to Capri town — the piazzetta is already buzzing.

Blue Grotto by private rowboat — the boatman sings as you duck through the entrance. Inside, the water glows electric blue. It lasts three minutes and you'll remember it for years.

Walk to the Faraglioni viewpoint — three sea stacks rising from the water, postcard-perfect and somehow still astonishing.

Lunch at Il Riccio — Anacapri's beach club, two Michelin stars, perched above the bluest water on the island. Sea urchin pasta, fried zucchini flowers, cold white wine.

Swim off the rocks below Il Riccio. The water is crystalline.

Explore Anacapri — quieter than Capri town. Visit Villa San Michele, built by a Swedish doctor obsessed with beauty. The view from the sphinx terrace is staggering.

Limoncello tasting at a hillside grove — the lemons are the size of grapefruit.

Return ferry to Positano. Watch the island shrink behind you.

Dinner at Lo Scoglio — family-run, on the water at Marina del Cantone. The pasta with courgette flowers is legendary.

Espresso and a sfogliatella at the hotel. Your last full day — savour it.

Cooking class with a local chef — meet at a farmhouse above Positano. Start at the market: tomatoes still warm from the vine, buffalo mozzarella made that morning, basil that perfumes your hands.

Cook together — handmade pasta from scratch, a ragù that simmers while you learn to make limoncello, bruschetta with tomatoes so ripe they collapse on the bread.

Eat what you've made at a long table under a pergola, with views down to the coast. Local wine, loud conversation, second helpings.

Return to Positano. One last swim at the beach.

Wander the boutiques — pick up handmade sandals from a cobbler on Via Cristoforo Colombo. They'll be ready in an hour.

Collect your sandals. Walk the Path of the Gods trailhead at sunset — just the first twenty minutes, enough to see the coast painted in gold.

Farewell dinner at Lo Guarracino — candlelit cliffside terrace, waves audible below, grilled catch of the day, a bottle of Greco di Tufo, and the kind of silence that only the Mediterranean understands.

Nightcap at the hotel terrace. The town glitters below. You are not ready to leave.

Last breakfast on the terrace. Espresso, fresh fruit, one final look at the view. Take a photograph. It won't capture it, but take it anyway.

Morning at leisure — walk the quiet streets before the day-trippers arrive. This is when Positano belongs to the people who live here.

Pack slowly. Your staff leaves a handwritten card and a small bottle of the hotel's own limoncello.

Checkout at Le Sirenuse. Step outside one last time.

Private transfer to Naples airport — the coast road unspools behind you. Sorrento, the lemon groves, the tunnels carved through rock. The sea stays in the window until the very end.