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The sea, the sea! The European embrace of the sea as a stimulant of pleasure is as old as civilization itself. Perhaps older: The moment that the first hominid dipped a toe in the Mediterranean was probably decisive. We will never know. What we do know is that the idea of the seaside resort and its irresistible lure for travelers is, sui generis, European. For more than a century, the most congenial corners of every coastline have been colonized to define—and redefine—the pursuit of pleasure of the littoral kind. But how well are these resorts adapting to the tastes of a new century? Ron Hall, a seasoned connoisseur of watering holes worldwide, takes his gimlet eye to twenty-five of the most alluring resorts, follows their cycles of style, fashion, and taste, and, in a series of lists, rates them by category.
Positano, Italy
Getting there is nine-tenths the fun. The only access, other than by sea, is to brave the thousands of twists and turns of the Amalfi Coast road, the high corniche connecting Salerno and Sorrento. You can do it by car or you can put your trust in a bus, but either way, the journey is terrifying. Eventually, after what seems forever, you see the sugar-cube houses of Positano wedged into the rocks far below—“the only place in the world,” said artist Paul Klee, “designed on a vertical axis.”
In the postwar years, many other artists and writers came to live here, particularly after 1953, when John Steinbeck wrote an ecstatic article about it in Harper’s Bazaar. More recently, Nureyev bought the Galli Islands, off Positano’s coast.
The town’s architecture is amusing rather than distinguished, just a palimpsest of Italianate motifs—like Portmeirion but more exuberant. There is a daily hydrofoil to Capri and Ischia, but otherwise there’s not much to do but find a quiet corner and watch the village go by. The classiest viewpoint is from the terrace of Le Sirenuse, a hotel that was once an aristocratic villa and is still run by the original Sersale family. To see the old marquis working the hotel, offering a greeting here, putting a guest at ease there, is an exercise in pure theater. It is a hotel where everyone smiles. |