Positano, one of the gems of Italy’s Amalfi Coast, has been a favorite destination of ours since Erin and I first visited it on our second trip together to Italy, years ago. Sam and Linda had been hoping for a taste of the Italian seaside while visiting, but with most of their stay built around the trip to Lebanon and some time to see Rome, there wasn’t a lot of time to work with. Given our constraints, Positano seemed like the best option to give them a memorable taste of the Italian coast they had been hoping for. 

South of Naples, the Amalfi Coast is notable for dramatic cliffs that terminate at the beaches and villages below; many of its towns and roads cascade upon the faces of the cliffsides themselves. Each town offers its own charms and benefits, but Positano is surely one of the most stunning.

One thing anyone mulling a trip to Positano should know is the stairs are widowmakers. I’m stealing this saying from Lisbon, but every day in Positano is leg day. Much of it, including the vast majority of its accommodations, drapes over the cliffsides that encircle a cute, upscale town center and a postcard-perfect beach below. Unless you’re staying in one of the small handful of ground level hotels, which will cost you a pretty penny, you’re going to be doing a lot of mountain goat role-playing. If you can handle that though, it’s worth it. 

The Amalfi Coast is heralded for some incredible food; the local soils are rich with nutrients from past volcanic eruptions of nearby Vesuvius, which it turns out is good for more than just burying entire cities in ash. Some of the regional specialties include tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella, fresh-caught seafood, and lemon-like citrus fruits as big as your head.

We kicked off our 48-hour stint on the coast with lunch at Da Vincenzo, per a local’s recommendation. The food was great, and the biggest standout was one of the tastiest desserts I had in all my seven months; a surprisingly simple two scoops of vanilla gelato, topped with fresh strawberries, and a splash of balsamic vinegar. It was sweet, tangy, refreshing, and perfect.

The portion of time we spent in Positano was pretty low-key. We made the most of the erratic sunshine, collecting sea glass along the pebbly beach and sipping lemon granita when the clouds would part. We wandered the shops and cafes, and ducked into the duomo for a moment. By and large, we just drank in the radiant blues of the Mediterranean, the pastel-checkered townscape behind us, and the verdant, terraced hills that loomed above.

With our only full day, we decided to make an excursion to the next town over, Praiano. Getting around on the Amalfi Coast is a bit of an undertaking. The roads are sinuous, and though some are officially two-way, perhaps they shouldn’t be. As such, we opted against renting a car. Meanwhile, taxis are rather cost-prohibitive for town-hopping, so we ventured forth via one of the local coastal shuttle buses. Not too bad, and for only a couple Euros a piece. After reaching Praiano, we walked down to Marina di Praia, one of Praiano’s few beaches.

We sat down at Trattoria Da Armandino, a small restaurant overlooking the beach. After the owner came out and chatted us up a while, we had them bring us out a sampling of some of their recommended dishes. The seafood was as fresh as it gets, and everything was fantastic, but my absolute favorite was a lemon risotto with red shrimp and crisped parmigiano reggiano. I couldn’t shovel that in my mouth fast enough.

Everything in southern Italy takes longer than expected. As such, we eventually came to realize that it would be a dicey proposition making it back to Positano in time for Erin to have a video session with a client. So, as she went off to find a place with privacy and Wi-Fi, the rest of us waited for the next available bus back to Positano, called the SITA bus. The SITA bus, it turns out, is not for the faint of heart. Though massively larger than the shuttle that had delivered us to Praiano, the four of us had to pack ourselves in like sardines, me using one arm to wrap around the only pole I could reach, and the other to clutch Emilia as tightly as I could. Sam and Linda were forced to sit on the steps by the door, as there was literally nowhere else to go. Packed public transit is not such a challenge on its own, but when you cram a bus to capacity, then send it down the automotive equivalent of a silly straw, and add impatient, oncoming cars and scooters, the dynamic changes. 

The only highlight of what felt like an eternity on the SITA bus came when we hit a traffic jam just outside Positano, where apparently sending a bunch of huge oncoming buses around a hairpin curve overlooking a 1,000-foot drop doesn’t work so great. After five or so minutes of our bus driver cursing in Italian and gesturing in full outraged-Italian mode, we finally crawled forward enough to reach the traffic cop trying to manage the bottleneck. I couldn’t translate much of what the bus driver had to say, only that he pointed straight at the cop and demanded, “YOU, STOP,” so that he could give him a piece of his mind. The policeman calmly brushed him off and carried on his way. Trying to imagine the hell the would rain upon a driver who verbally accosted a member of US law enforcement got me through the rest of the traffic jam with a sense of bemusement. 

The last noteworthy anecdote came after we’d arrived back to our Airbnb in one piece. Erin eventually made her way back to Positano and set down at Da Gabrisa, a well-reviewed restaurant with a great view that Google showed a mere 450 meters from where the rest of us were. Problem is, elevation isn’t always blatantly apparent on Google Maps. What we naïvely assumed to be a casual jaunt left us doubled over, sweating bullets. Whatever doesn’t kill you though, right? At least the food was good and the view was even better.

We headed back to Rome the following morning, and bid farewell to Sam and Linda a couple days later. The five days between their departure and the arrival of the next wave of Erin’s family afforded us just enough time to get the apartment back in order, and to squeeze in a date night to celebrate our 11th anniversary at Porto di Ripetta, our favorite restaurant from our honeymoon. It was a nice way to cap off a fun, but busy couple weeks, and shift focus toward the following round of visitors.