The in-the-know Amalfi coastal spots that don't cost the earth
In Praiano's tiny dispensary, three nonnas are deep in animated debate with the pharmacist. 'Cosa pensi?' bellows one. 'È già come un virus!' — 'What do you think? It's already like a virus!' Behind them I wait my turn and eavesdrop, discovering they're not discussing early summer flu or a fresh wave of Covid. Instead these redoubtable women are talking about Amalfi. Even in April, they lament, the town is heaving, with a tidal wave of day-trippers already flooding its narrow streets.
The nonnas turn and notice me with tight-lipped smiles, and I become painfully aware that I'm adding to the toll of their dismay. 'Sono d'accordo!' I long to say — I agree! I'd like to reassure them that it's not Amalfi's lemon-scented bottlenecks that draw me to this coastline — I'm seeking what's left of its quieter side. I want to see if, despite the crowds, there are still places here that haven't given up their natural pace and, as importantly, don't charge ridiculous prices for an Aperol spritz, a quick lunch, or gorgeous accommodation. Happily, they do exist, Praiano being among them.
First, let me take you on a zigzag ascent to Furore, where I am based for the next three days. Affectionately termed the 'borgo that doesn't exist', there's no real centre to this small village. Instead, scattered around a vertical landscape of terraces, lemon groves and cactus-shaded stairways are a cluster of churches, an unpretentious café and a clutch of houses and vineyards — Furore's peace interrupted only by the joyous screech of swifts or the distant whine of a Vespa.
Swishing around the hairpin bends, murals suddenly appear on walls — colourful images of mermaids and fishermen and grape-pickers — all part of the village's odd, endearing identity as an 'open-air museum'. Then, at its heart, and barely seen from the road, the discreet entrance to the Furore Grand hotel, a quietly luxurious five-star hotel that opened here last year.
What a discovery this is: cascading across nine terraced levels, the hotel fuses the soft-edged geometry of a Greek hamlet with the curvaceous sweep of an ocean liner, its pristine white architecture focusing the eye constantly on the blue dazzle of the sea. All 35 rooms spotlight the Tyrrhenian, and these are not mere glimpses, but broad windows and terraces framing the sea in operatic widescreen.
The monochrome decor is deliberately pared back, with the occasional nod to local tradition in Vietri ceramic tiles, and even at entry-level rooms are generously sized. My suite is completely white, serene rather than stark, its warmth coming from thoughtful touches: a steam iron, a Smeg kettle, proper coffee, a hamper of smart travel essentials. It's significantly less expensive than comparable five-stars along this overpriced stretch. During my stay, the lead-in rate for a night at the Furore Grand starts at £535 with breakfast, while Il San Pietro in Positano was charging £2,200.
From the moment I arrive there's a calm precision to everything: a welcome drink on the terrace, a fleet of young smiley staff who remember my name, that suite that feels like a private observatory. It's a place for pause and retreat, aided by an excellent spa, the Petramare, where treatments are themed around local botanicals — olive, basil, jasmine — with unusual offerings too, like the Harmonia Involvens (£128), a blissful head and hair treatment from which I emerge shiny-maned and dazed in the best possible way.
• Nine of the best places to visit on the Amalfi coast
Over the years I've stayed in several five-star Amalfitana properties, but few have matched the cuisine of the Furore Grand. Dinner at Bluh Furore, its Michelin-starred restaurant masterminded by the 30-year-old chef Vincenzo Russo, is an absolute treat of zingy-flavoured tasting plates (£128 for a six-course menu), spanning delicate flower-sprigged tortellini, crunchy asparagus bouquets and a tender slice of veal served with a sticky reduction. There's a casual dining option at the alfresco Acquarasa where, matching the excellent breakfast pastries, pizzas come cloud-fluffy and crisp, the margherita daubed with an unforgettably sweet-tasting passata (mains from £29).
So yes, an extraordinarily gorgeous property. Its downside? Well, if you're keen to explore Positano and Amalfi (the hotel provides a free shuttle), expect tediously long road trips of an hour or more. If, however, you prefer to buck the trend and mix luxury with the odd hike and trips to lesser-known neighbouring towns, then this is as good a base as any.
One of the most evocative moments of my stay is the descent to the Fiordo di Furore, a dramatic inlet where freshwater meets the Tyrrhenian beneath an arching bridge. Busy Amalfi is three miles east from here, yet what I find is something entirely different: unhurried, peaceful, barely touched by the present. It was once a working port for fishermen and ropemakers, and its tiny, pebbled beach is still edged with crumbling boathouses cut into the cliff. Over a thousand stone steps lead you down from the hotel, each bend scented with wild fennel and sun-warmed stone.
For £9 you can rent a deckchair, but the few visitors present are content instead to lie on the pebbles. Someone uncorks wine, lays out a simple picnic. A Clark Gable lookalike ploughs through the surf with cinematic flair, and I sit on the worn slipway, watching fish flitting beneath the teal-coloured ripples, the only sounds a dog barking up in the village and the echo of waves in the gorge.
• Read our full guide to Italy
Equally lovely is my hike along the Sentiero dell'Agave in Fiore, the old mule path that threads its way along the cliffs between Furore and Praiano. It's less travelled than the better-known Sentiero degli Dei, and all the more rewarding for it. The trail dips and rises through fragrant pockets of wild rosemary and broom, past crumbling stone terraces and tiny shrines half-swallowed by fig trees and agave. Occasional gaps in the foliage offer heart-stopping glimpses of the sea far below, the occasional Saracen watchtower silhouetted against the unremittingly blue expanse.
Praiano, like a reclaimed Positano, reveals sudden staircases and an unexpected stillness, its whitewashed houses sun-worn and uneven. Elderly men sit on low walls in the afternoon sunshine, eyes on the horizon, while the tiled dome of San Gennaro gleams high above the empty piazza. There's little to do here, which is its charm. Further east, the small town of Minori feels lived in and low key, with laundry strung like ships' rigging between faded buildings. Roman ruins lie submerged near the celebrated Sal de Riso pasticceria; a nod to past grandeur now competing with delizia al limone sponge cakes, while Maiori next door sprawls broad and flatter, a functional town with a wide crescent of black sand.
There's a workaday rhythm to Maiori that I find immensely appealing. A gardener busily sweeps up fallen leaves beneath the church's statue to the Virgin Mary. He pauses, stretches his back and gives me a warm smile. Teenagers orbit the gelato kiosk and at Antica Salumeria del Corso, a dainty deli on Corso Reginna, the proprietor is fashioning huge panini from fior di latte, prosciutto crudo and pomodoro. Their price? Just five euros. And yes, the town is less polished than Positano, but more forgiving, and in so many ways, more real. Long may that peace last.
This article contains affiliate links, which can earn us revenue
Louise Roddon was a guest of the Furore Grand hotel, which has B&B doubles from £565 (furoregrandhotel.com). Fly to Salerno
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Times
17 hours ago
- Times
The in-the-know Amalfi coastal spots that don't cost the earth
In Praiano's tiny dispensary, three nonnas are deep in animated debate with the pharmacist. 'Cosa pensi?' bellows one. 'È già come un virus!' — 'What do you think? It's already like a virus!' Behind them I wait my turn and eavesdrop, discovering they're not discussing early summer flu or a fresh wave of Covid. Instead these redoubtable women are talking about Amalfi. Even in April, they lament, the town is heaving, with a tidal wave of day-trippers already flooding its narrow streets. The nonnas turn and notice me with tight-lipped smiles, and I become painfully aware that I'm adding to the toll of their dismay. 'Sono d'accordo!' I long to say — I agree! I'd like to reassure them that it's not Amalfi's lemon-scented bottlenecks that draw me to this coastline — I'm seeking what's left of its quieter side. I want to see if, despite the crowds, there are still places here that haven't given up their natural pace and, as importantly, don't charge ridiculous prices for an Aperol spritz, a quick lunch, or gorgeous accommodation. Happily, they do exist, Praiano being among them. First, let me take you on a zigzag ascent to Furore, where I am based for the next three days. Affectionately termed the 'borgo that doesn't exist', there's no real centre to this small village. Instead, scattered around a vertical landscape of terraces, lemon groves and cactus-shaded stairways are a cluster of churches, an unpretentious café and a clutch of houses and vineyards — Furore's peace interrupted only by the joyous screech of swifts or the distant whine of a Vespa. Swishing around the hairpin bends, murals suddenly appear on walls — colourful images of mermaids and fishermen and grape-pickers — all part of the village's odd, endearing identity as an 'open-air museum'. Then, at its heart, and barely seen from the road, the discreet entrance to the Furore Grand hotel, a quietly luxurious five-star hotel that opened here last year. What a discovery this is: cascading across nine terraced levels, the hotel fuses the soft-edged geometry of a Greek hamlet with the curvaceous sweep of an ocean liner, its pristine white architecture focusing the eye constantly on the blue dazzle of the sea. All 35 rooms spotlight the Tyrrhenian, and these are not mere glimpses, but broad windows and terraces framing the sea in operatic widescreen. The monochrome decor is deliberately pared back, with the occasional nod to local tradition in Vietri ceramic tiles, and even at entry-level rooms are generously sized. My suite is completely white, serene rather than stark, its warmth coming from thoughtful touches: a steam iron, a Smeg kettle, proper coffee, a hamper of smart travel essentials. It's significantly less expensive than comparable five-stars along this overpriced stretch. During my stay, the lead-in rate for a night at the Furore Grand starts at £535 with breakfast, while Il San Pietro in Positano was charging £2,200. From the moment I arrive there's a calm precision to everything: a welcome drink on the terrace, a fleet of young smiley staff who remember my name, that suite that feels like a private observatory. It's a place for pause and retreat, aided by an excellent spa, the Petramare, where treatments are themed around local botanicals — olive, basil, jasmine — with unusual offerings too, like the Harmonia Involvens (£128), a blissful head and hair treatment from which I emerge shiny-maned and dazed in the best possible way. • Nine of the best places to visit on the Amalfi coast Over the years I've stayed in several five-star Amalfitana properties, but few have matched the cuisine of the Furore Grand. Dinner at Bluh Furore, its Michelin-starred restaurant masterminded by the 30-year-old chef Vincenzo Russo, is an absolute treat of zingy-flavoured tasting plates (£128 for a six-course menu), spanning delicate flower-sprigged tortellini, crunchy asparagus bouquets and a tender slice of veal served with a sticky reduction. There's a casual dining option at the alfresco Acquarasa where, matching the excellent breakfast pastries, pizzas come cloud-fluffy and crisp, the margherita daubed with an unforgettably sweet-tasting passata (mains from £29). So yes, an extraordinarily gorgeous property. Its downside? Well, if you're keen to explore Positano and Amalfi (the hotel provides a free shuttle), expect tediously long road trips of an hour or more. If, however, you prefer to buck the trend and mix luxury with the odd hike and trips to lesser-known neighbouring towns, then this is as good a base as any. One of the most evocative moments of my stay is the descent to the Fiordo di Furore, a dramatic inlet where freshwater meets the Tyrrhenian beneath an arching bridge. Busy Amalfi is three miles east from here, yet what I find is something entirely different: unhurried, peaceful, barely touched by the present. It was once a working port for fishermen and ropemakers, and its tiny, pebbled beach is still edged with crumbling boathouses cut into the cliff. Over a thousand stone steps lead you down from the hotel, each bend scented with wild fennel and sun-warmed stone. For £9 you can rent a deckchair, but the few visitors present are content instead to lie on the pebbles. Someone uncorks wine, lays out a simple picnic. A Clark Gable lookalike ploughs through the surf with cinematic flair, and I sit on the worn slipway, watching fish flitting beneath the teal-coloured ripples, the only sounds a dog barking up in the village and the echo of waves in the gorge. • Read our full guide to Italy Equally lovely is my hike along the Sentiero dell'Agave in Fiore, the old mule path that threads its way along the cliffs between Furore and Praiano. It's less travelled than the better-known Sentiero degli Dei, and all the more rewarding for it. The trail dips and rises through fragrant pockets of wild rosemary and broom, past crumbling stone terraces and tiny shrines half-swallowed by fig trees and agave. Occasional gaps in the foliage offer heart-stopping glimpses of the sea far below, the occasional Saracen watchtower silhouetted against the unremittingly blue expanse. Praiano, like a reclaimed Positano, reveals sudden staircases and an unexpected stillness, its whitewashed houses sun-worn and uneven. Elderly men sit on low walls in the afternoon sunshine, eyes on the horizon, while the tiled dome of San Gennaro gleams high above the empty piazza. There's little to do here, which is its charm. Further east, the small town of Minori feels lived in and low key, with laundry strung like ships' rigging between faded buildings. Roman ruins lie submerged near the celebrated Sal de Riso pasticceria; a nod to past grandeur now competing with delizia al limone sponge cakes, while Maiori next door sprawls broad and flatter, a functional town with a wide crescent of black sand. There's a workaday rhythm to Maiori that I find immensely appealing. A gardener busily sweeps up fallen leaves beneath the church's statue to the Virgin Mary. He pauses, stretches his back and gives me a warm smile. Teenagers orbit the gelato kiosk and at Antica Salumeria del Corso, a dainty deli on Corso Reginna, the proprietor is fashioning huge panini from fior di latte, prosciutto crudo and pomodoro. Their price? Just five euros. And yes, the town is less polished than Positano, but more forgiving, and in so many ways, more real. Long may that peace last. This article contains affiliate links, which can earn us revenue Louise Roddon was a guest of the Furore Grand hotel, which has B&B doubles from £565 ( Fly to Salerno
The Independent
2 days ago
- The Independent
Judge rejects Airbnb's appeal in move that could change Spanish tourism forever
A Spanish court has upheld an order for Airbnb to block nearly 66,000 rental listings across the country, rejecting an appeal from the online platform. The ruling reinforces the government's stance that these short-term rentals violate local regulations and contribute to Spain 's escalating housing crisis, particularly as the nation experiences record tourist numbers. The Consumer Rights Ministry had previously flagged the listings for violations, issuing an order last month for Airbnb to remove 65,935 properties. Of these, 5,800 were identified for immediate takedown. An Airbnb spokesperson could not be immediately reached for comment on the Madrid 's High Court 's decision. The ministry has said the listings it flagged did not include their license number or specify whether the owner was an individual or a company. It said others listed numbers that didn't match what authorities had. Last month, Consumer Rights Minister Pablo Bustinduy told The Associated Press that the tourism sector could not "jeopardise the constitutional rights of the Spanish people.' This included their right to housing and well-being. Carlos Cuerpo, the economy minister, said in a separate interview that the government had to tackle the unwanted side effects of mass tourism. It comes following protests across Spain and popular European hotspots. Earlier this month, protesters used water guns against unsuspecting tourists in Barcelona and on the Spanish island of Mallorca as demonstrators marched to demand a rethink of an economic model they believe is fuelling a housing crunch and erasing the character of their hometowns. The marches were part of the first coordinated effort by activists concerned with the ills of overtourism across southern Europe's top destinations. While several thousands rallied in Mallorca in the biggest gathering of the day, hundreds more gathered in other Spanish cities, as well as in Venice, Italy, and Portugal's capital, Lisbon. 'The squirt guns are to bother the tourists a bit,' Andreu Martínez said in Barcelona with a chuckle after spritzing a couple seated at an outdoor café. 'Barcelona has been handed to the tourists. This is a fight to give Barcelona back to its residents.' Martínez, a 42-year-old administrative assistant, is one of a growing number of residents who are convinced that tourism has gone too far in the city of 1.7 million people. Barcelona hosted 15.5 million visitors last year eager to see Antoni Gaudí's La Sagrada Familia basilica and the Las Ramblas promenade. Martínez says his rent has risen over 30 per cent as more apartments in his neighborhood are rented to tourists for short-term stays. He said there is a knock-on effect of traditional stores being replaced by businesses catering to tourists, like souvenir shops, burger joints and 'bubble tea' spots. 'Our lives, as lifelong residents of Barcelona, are coming to an end," he said. "We are being pushed out systematically.'
The Independent
3 days ago
- The Independent
Spanish judge rejects Airbnb appeal in order that changed country's tourism
A Spanish court rejected an appeal by Airbnb, upholding an order to block nearly 66,000 rental listings in the country. The government stated that the blocked listings violate local rules and contribute to Spain's housing crunch. The Consumer Rights Ministry had previously flagged the listings for issues such as missing license numbers or incorrect owner information. Spanish ministers emphasized that the tourism sector must not jeopardize the constitutional rights of the Spanish people, including their right to housing. The decision is part of the government's broader effort to address the unwanted side effects of mass tourism.
