Overnight we sailed along the Italian coast, pulling in early to Salerno. It was yet another sparkling blue day on the Med. We planned to head to Amalfi by ferry, then walk to the smaller villages of Ravello, Tortello and Minori. Having already been to Carbonara, we quickly dubbed them Ravioli, Tortellini, and Marinara!

The ferry ride was typically Italian – it was Sunday, and the locals were out in force.  The ticket counter was mercifully very efficient, but we joined an Italian “queue” to board, reminiscent of trying to get onto a plane in Sicily during an air traffic controllers strike – every person for themselves. On board it was noisy chaos. We tried to hide in a corner, and quietly watched the passing scenery.

Amalfi town was much the same – crowded with noisy people and noisy traffic, all vying for cheap souvenirs from the waterfront stalls. Our aim was to get away from the bustle, and hike uphill to Ravello, perched almost immediately above us.  My instructions said to follow the road towards Atrani, and look for the signposted stone steps. That was all very well, but the footpath quickly disappeared, and we were left trying to walk on a very narrow road full of cars, buses and motorbikes, around a series of blind corners. We had no idea where the steps were, and decided we were risking life and limb by continuing to walk on the road.

Amalfi town

Instead, we hopped on board an open topped tourist bus, which promised to whisk us up the hill to Ravello. We joined the traffic chaos, and were soon making our way up, up and up, around a series of hairpin bends, as we negotiated the steep, narrow road. I had no idea the Amalfi Coast was so rugged.  The mountains drop straight into the sea. There are ancient Saracen forts and towers dotted everywhere.  Houses cling precariously to the hillsides, and villages trickle downwards to the few places where the shoreline allows boats to pull in. Terraced vineyards and olive groves fill in the gaps. I kept holding my breath every time we passed a bus going in the other direction.

Bus ride

From Ravello, we could see back along the coast, overlooking our destination of Minori and beyond. The water was  a gorgeous deep blue.  Before beginning our downhill walk, we made our way into the village centre, which featured ancient stone walls and towers, ceramic shops, clifftop gardens, a church and piazza, and some cats who have mastered the art of miaowing plaintively and looking fetchingly cute.  It was nice after the hordes in Amalfi, and we sat on a park bench for lunch, looking back down at the sides of the steep valley that the bus had brought us up.

Ravello

After some confusion, we found the top of the stone steps that lead to Minori, and started wending our way down.  The steps were not too steep, and well made, so presented no problems.  Before too long we found ourselves in the small village of Tortello, well off the tourist trail, which was a refreshing change. We exchanged “bon giornos” with a handful of fellow hikers heading upwards, who gave us envious glances as they puffed and panted.

Signs continued pointing us down to Minori, and we followed the switchbacks, passing small churches and gardens, and pausing underneath cool stone arches where paths intersect.  It was something of a maze, but as long as we continued down, we couldn’t go too far wrong.

View from Ravello

The walk down

After about an hour of walking, we emerged onto the road above Minori. We lost the steps at that point, but the road here was quiet so we followed it, contouring around the gully head.  We found another set of steps which led into the town. Down a cobbled laneway flanked by high walls, under another arch, turn left, and there was the water, and the pier where our return ferry would depart from.

Minori town

We passed the time sitting in the piazza in the shade. Our return trip was lovely; the ferry was uncrowded, and it made two stops, allowing us good views of the coast, while the spray as we bounced over the waves was cooling.

Ferry ride back to Salerno

Ian asked me if I thought the Amalfi Coast was beautiful. I paused to think about it.  The contrast between the stunningly blue water and the precipitous landscape is certainly lovely.  Up close, the houses have peeling paint, washing is straggled across windows, and there are cigarette butts in the streets.  The traffic is a nightmare, and the throngs of weekend tourists (ourselves included) do nothing to add to the ambience.  Everything looks much better from a distance – either up high or from across the water.  We watched a couple of teenage girls in tank tops and cutoffs, posing endlessly for selfies on the pier, no doubt hoping for instant “likes” from as many boys as possible. Did they even look at the scenery? Who knows. Social media has a lot to answer for.

But I certainly enjoyed the peace and quiet of the walk from Ravello, as well as the views.

Back in Salerno, we debated whether to walk several extra blocks to see a medieval aqueduct.  Which raised the question – how far are we prepared to detour, when we are tired, hungry and thirsty, to walk up a hill and delay our return to the comforts of the ship, in order to see something that we will probably never have the chance to look at again? Travel can be a funny thing.

Salerno