Summer 2006: Amalfi and Sorrento

Summer 2006 in Amalfi and Sorrento (1)

When I got off the bus outside the station in Sorrento on September 3rd, it was early afternoon and I had been travelling since 4am. Somehow the prospect of getting on a bus for Amalfi didn't appeal. Another consideration was that I was carrying a heavy case full of small mounted prints of my paintings which I was to deliver to the shop of Giovanna Petagna, in the Via dei Cesari in the centre of Sorrento. Since it was now 2.30 pm most of Sorrento was napping after lunch and all the shops were closed until about 6pm. Petagna's didn't normally open till even later.

I weighed up the best plan and decided that I must stay in Sorrento that night at least. I would go to see if the Hotel Loreley (also known as the Hotel de Londre) had any rooms. This is a hotel positioned in the best spot along the cliffs of Sorrento, but I had discovered on my August visit that its rates were roughly half those of its neighbours. It had been fully booked then.

I trundled my case down the cobbles from the station to the Via A. Califano. The Loreley seemed deserted. Its peeling pink stucco was baking in the hot afternoon sun. In the open air bamboo roofed terrace fronting on to the road, a dozing cat lifted its head to eye me sleepily and fell back into its dreams again. The sea glittered below, where the whole of the Marina Piccola lay out in the heat of the afternoon.

There was nobody about in the shabby entrance lounge. Somewhere I could hear the murmur of conversation and a muted clatter of pans - the kitchen clearing up after lunch. I put my head into the tiny cluttered office of the entrance hall and as I did so I saw out of the corner of my eye a movement across the hall towards the chipped marble staircase. "Signora! Per favore..." - my faltering Italian began. The maid stopped, looked nervously at me and came back. I summoned up my small command of the language and she looked more at ease but went to find the receptionist. Did they have any rooms for the same night? This question seemed difficult to answer immediately but I agreed to wait.

At length I was accepted. I decided to take the room for three nights and to go on to Amalfi after that. After a phone call to Il Nido it was all arranged - three nights in the Loreley, then three nights in Amalfi, but I could not keep the room on the 9th and 10th September so I was to return to the Loreley for two nights and go back to Il Nido for the last two on 11th and 12th.

In the Hotel Loreley in the summer of 2006 you got what you paid for and no frills. No air con, no fancy little bottles of shampoo or shower caps, no big fluffy towels. What you got was a basic room and ensuite shower room with a balcony overlooking the most beautiful view of the Marina Piccola and the coastline stretching up towards Amalfi. You got a nice little terrace restaurant only marred by the traffic roaring past (the terrace stretches between the road and the edge of the cliff) with the same wonderful view. You got sleepy but pleasant service and an Italian breakfast of sweet rolls, cake and croissants with jam. You got a sadly run down little jetty/ beachbar area with sunbeds (you pay a little extra for this). It was ideal for me, with my limited financial resources.

Most people staying there seemed to be from other European countries, rather than the UK. There was a very friendly French couple in the room next to me, who talked to me about the drawings I did each day when we met on our balconies. She was a designer and suggested places that they had visited that would make good subjects for my work. They too were very happy with the Loreley. I overheard some grumbling from a rather overheated looking American couple but perhaps they had not expected to get only what they had paid for. I knew the value of the Loreley's view.

In the event I only paid for four nights at the Loreley, in money that is. I was flattered when the owner of the hotel, an elderly lady who spoke no English, asked me if she could buy a sketch I was making from the restaurant. I at first said "No" because I was not sure I could finish it properly and she didn't seem keen to pay what I would ask for it if I did finish it. At last I was persuaded to part with it for the price of one night in the hotel and we were both happy with that. Here is the sketch that Signora bartered for.


I admit to spending at least one day on the sunbeds of the "beach" at the Loreley. I also went to see the Petagnas in the shop where they make and sell prints and art materials. I had been flattered but taken aback in August when they had broken to me the news that they had used my painting of a Roman building, the Sedile Dominova, in a book that they had written and published, about the history of the Conservatorio di Maria delle Grazione. This is the convent that has its facade along one side of the Piazza San Francesco. (I had had some prints made at the shop back in the summer of 2005 and they had the image on their computer.) They gave me a copy of the book and I was pleased to see the full page reproduction of my painting on page 31.

They had also sold a number of my prints. I left them with prints of some of the work I had done during my August 2006 visit, including a view of the street outside their shop in August following Italy's World Cup win. I had painted this on the spot but then had to replace all the international flags which were really there with Italian flags, at Giovanna's request, for the local market's taste.

On the fourth afternoon of my stay, I took the ferry to Amalfi and the Hotel Il Nido. I stood at the stern, watching the foaming trail we left behind us as the coastline to our left became more and more rugged and scenic. Mountains and islands passed by like one of those panoramic scenes painted on the background of a museum dispay about geological formations. I was joined by two members of the crew, one of whom decided to be my tour guide, pointing out the island that Rudolph Nureyev bought, the funicular down the cliff at Positano, the Martello towers that protected the coast in the war. Finally, egged on by his fellow crew member, he invited me to go out dancing with him in Amalfi that evening. I gracefully declined, the more easily since he was about half my age. But I was certainly flattered - a state of mind that a stay in Italy during the holiday season often produces and that I have learned to avoid taking too seriously.

As the ferry arrives at Amalfi you can see the facades of the Hotel Residence and the shops along the quay, the cars parked up to the railings and the buses that wait to take you up to the towns above Amalfi or back along the coast road towards Sorrento. It's a busy place in the summer. One of the beaches is to the right of the jetties for the ferries and there are others round the point on the Sorrento side of the town. The streets lead stiffly up the hills to each side and in the centre of the town they run through a system of stone tunnels and steps that are like catacombs to the newcomer's eye. Every few yards the covered ways emerge on to a small landing that has the stairs up to the front entrances of houses leading off it, or out into a piazza with shops and open streets.

The Hotel Il Nido is a very well run family hotel, about a kilometre's walk from the quay. Nearby was a strange anomaly in this part of Italy - a bar run by Willy, a Lancashireman, along British pub lines, stocking Guinness and other exotic British drinks as well as local wines and snacks. Willy was large, friendly and a little desperate. I got to know the place when I paused on my trudge up the hill after a day's drawing in Ravello or on the beach. There was always a group of friends there: Australians on their world travels; American students on their summer break; young Italians enjoying the summer tourist influx and practising their English (though Willy spoke fluent Italian). The television was always tuned to Sky sport, usually football and Willy would distribute fliers on the beach, particularly when an English team was playing. Sadly, Willy's Bar was closing at the end of the season and Willy was going back to settle down in his home county. He was truly deserving of the title "mine host". Order a glass of red wine and it was refilled for the rest of the evening like one of those magic cups in a fairy tale. The final account was always clearly in the customer's favour. I hope that his next venture has worked out well for him.

The owners of the Hotel il Nido were grave, professional and dignified, always ready to help and provide advice when asked. Their hotel was spotless, as almost all Italian hotels are, and they provided a good breakfast of cereal, buns. bread and croissants and cheese and ham. There was a lovely view across the bay from the dining room, the sparkling sea dazzling in the mornings.
My room was large and spacious with intriguing pictures of the local area on the walls. The young man who was often the night receptionist was the son of the owner. He spent the night gazing seriously at his computer, below the high counter where he sat. I never found out whether he was playing computer games, surfing the net or doing some kind of work. In the morning he would still be in the same place, with his night's growth of stubble the only evidence that time had passed. He was very helpful and admired my paintings as I brought them back to the hotel, weary and pleased with another day in Ravello, at the Villa Cimbrone or the Villa Rufolo.


When, on my last evening at Il Nido, I asked the night receptionist to order a taxi at six in the morning to take me down to the quay to catch the first ferry back to Sorrento, he insisted on driving me down the hill in his own car, leaving the reception unmanned for a few minutes. I promised to return to Il Nido and to tell anyone who would read my blog about the service that I had received there.


Amalfi from the sea is backed by a rugged cliff scored with crevices and cracks, hung with stalactite like formations that run down to the road along the coast from Sorrento. There's a great shallow cave-like rock formation that frames the cathedral in some of my photographs, though in reality one is less conscious of it than of the intense blue sky above the dome. The cathedral (S. Stefano) is visible from most parts of the town, and especially from the beach in front of the ferry landing. Its green and yellow tiled campanile rises behind the white hotels and pastel washed buildings.

The Piazza Sant'Andrea in Amalfi is dominated by the facade of the Cathedral, dedicated to Saint Andrew. Its highly ornamented marble and brick facade and broad staircase leading up to the gallery along the facade are so often photographed that I was not inspired to paint the view from the piazza. Instead I composed this painting from the gallery itself, looking out on to the cafes and bars of the piazza. The most inspiring view of the facade was to be seen at night, when floodlights picked out the layers of decoration and paintings behind the arches. This view was hard to paint or photograph and I hope to master a technique for conveying the effect that I found so exciting, when I return to the area in 2007.