Positano is one of my most favourite places on this earth, simple as that. You amble down it’s steep, meandering streets, that feel as if they have frozen in time. Temptations lead you astray at every corner, nook and cranny. A blend of food, coffee, wine and art entertain you, as you make your descent down to the beach at the bottom of the hill. We bought a lovely piece of art as we tumbled down to the sea (ok not literally, just sounded poetic) and every time I glance up at the watercolour on my living room wall, I remember Positano. It remains indelibly etched on my memory like a faded romance that will one day be renewed. We shall return there for sure, it is only a matter of when.
We saw a number of artists along the way, all engrossed in their craft, oblivious to the passers by looking over their shoulders at the pictures evolving with every sweep of their brush on it’s canvas.
When you get to the bottom, you look upwards towards the mountain that backs this historic Neopolitan town and the town appears as if a large canvas draped down it it’s side. The colours of the buildings resembling that of an Artists’ gouache dabbed on it’s surface.
Positano is art, it’s poetry but by gosh, isn’t that walk back up tough going?