It is sunny again today, and the sea is glimmering once again in the sun, this morning, on the Amalfi coast, Italy. This kangaroo is bouncing with la dolce vita – the sweet life.

Yesterday, we made the most of the exquisite beauty of Positano, and the vantage point of our hotel: perched high on a rocky outcrop, with uninterrupted views north towards Positano, with its black volcanic beach and brightly painted terraced houses tumbling down the cliff, and to another smaller town to the south, Praiana.

It is a jewel of an area. Years ago when I was working for Clyde & Co, a law firm in the city, a well travelled American told me that of all the places he had visited, he thought that the Amalfi Coast was the most beautiful. He had not been to Australia!

Almost twenty five years ago, Geoff and I travelled to Rome to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. We met up with Greg and Mary Beth Hopp, who had just stayed at our current hotel. Greg was an attorney for a Chicago law firm we were partnering in a big piece of litigation for Lloyd’s, the insurance market.

Later a postcard of a Majorcan tiled bench at the hotel, with panoramic views of Positano, arrived on our doormat in London. We resolved to one day come here. It has taken twenty five years, but better late than never. And it was worth the wait.

After making our way out of the industrial area that blights the Napoli Bay, then passing the Sorrento coastline, we were finally winding our way along the hairpin bends of the Amalfi coast. There is no room to breath on these roads. On one side is sure death beyond the barrier, and on the other side, the cars shave you as they go past. Most of the cars have dents in them from bumping each other.

So many times in life, the reality of a holiday destination, after endless dreaming (and now looking on Tripadvisor), has failed to live up to expectations. How many times has the hotel depicted in brochures, and now on the internet, edited out: the busy road, the fag ends in the sand, the scuff marks on hotel walls, the close proximity of other hotels, the construction site behind the hotel, the smallness of the pool compared to the landscape photo you gazed at, or the damp in the corner of the bathroom?

The hotel surpassed our expectations, both inside and out. You arrive in a pretty carpark at street level. Then you are led down hibiscus and rosemary lined stairs, showing off the wow factor of the view, where you are greeted at reception by polite, but warm, staff. Inside, the interior was traditional and comfortable Italiano.

 

Yesterday, we swam in the sapphire sea, and we played tennis with, and were beaten by, an American couple from California. It is 350 steps down to the tennis court and an outcrop of rock where you swim from. You pass immaculate terraced vegetable and flower gardens on the steep descent; all used in the hotel kitchen.

You can take the lift back up! This morning Geoff, on the way down, passed a couple on their way back up the steps. He commented that were keen. She replied, “How much did you eat last night?” She was working off the food she’d eaten the night before. And she added, “I intend to eat the same again tonight.” You could easily get fat in a place like this.

Today, we shall relish the privilege of making a dream come true.