One day we ventured by boat from Positano the island of Capri, a truly exquisite place (although we opted to bypass the tourist-infested center swelled with designer shops and their “see and be seen” crowds). Instead, we hiked north though quiet, flowered paths up into the cliffs, stopping more than once at local cafes showered in pink bougainvillea blooms, to cool down with a few lemon granitas and mandarin gelatos. Soon after, we stumbled upon hidden coves that quite literally made my jaw drop . . .
I’ve always dreamed about visiting the Amalfi Coast, a fantasy resulting at least partially from seeing one too many Sophia Loren films and postcard renditions of lemon tree sprinkled mountains plummeting into a sea so sparkly it looks like blue champagne. We stayed in a town called Conca dei Marini, at this incredible seafront villa tucked into a cove overlooking a turquoise-water shore dotted with candy-colored sailboats and red beach parasols. Perfectly sun-baked mornings devoted to reading, bronzing, and the art of being ridiculously lazy and leisurely, afternoons spent adventuring on coastline drives to explore nearby towns, and finally, evenings back at home to prepare sinfully delicious al fresco dinners made from divine local produce . . . la dolce vita.