Why you should save your Amalfi Coast visit for spring

Euronews

6 days ago

Beneath the hot May sunshine, lemon groves, their winter hail-protection netting just removed, perfume the air with their sweet, zesty flowers. The trees, already laden with pale yellow fruit, crowd the narrow footpath that climbs along the cliff above the town of Amalfi.
I haven't seen anyone else for the last hour since leaving the single main street of the namesake settlement of the Amalfi Coast and taking the turn for the steep Valle delle Ferriere hiking route.
The summer crowds are by now notorious along Italy's most famed coastline, a marvel of nature and of human ingenuity to squeeze precipitous villages onto its cliff faces.
But coming here in spring is not just a way to escape the peak season crush. For me, April and May are the prime months on the coast, when you can catch local religious festivals, take breezy, blossom-filled hikes, and eat special Easter treats.
Hotel Santa Caterina is a storied Amalfi property still owned by the family who transformed their home into guest accommodation in the late 19th century.
The hotel champions shoulder seasons on the coast; they are one of the first to open in mid-March and last to close in October.
The property lies on the coastal road just out of Amalfi, its buildings perched high on the cliffside with precipitous plunges to the glittering sea below.
My airy, white-washed room paved with sunny coloured tiles from the nearby ceramic-making town of Vietri recalls the quiet 1950s glamour of the coastline.
The rock face below the hotel is carved into terraces filled with an arboreal extravaganza, which is at its prime in spring, tended by an army of gardeners.
The beach club, several hundred metres below, can be reached by lift. But much more pleasant is the narrow staircase that zigzags down the cliff beneath the lemon groves and boughs of bright bougainvillaea.
Back up on the cliff top, the terrace bar is shaded by a canopy of wisteria, the pendulous purple blossoms in full bloom before summer arrives.
The coastlines' hiking trails are also at their best in spring, plus the cooler weather makes the endless stair climbing more agreeable.
One such route begins at the upper end of Amalfi's Main Street, after you leave behind the garish yellow lemon-themed souvenir shops and overpriced restaurants.
The starting point is opposite the Paper Museum, a small exhibition well worth stopping into to learn about Amalfi's prestigious, centuries-old history of paper making.
The Valle delle Ferriere, as the trail is known, begins along the aptly named Via Paradiso running through the heart of the lemon terraces.
You often pass bundles of long wooden poles leaning against the walls, ready to be heaved manually up the hillside to make the supporting pergolas.
The route then delves deep into the shaded woods of a long crevasse, passing the occasional eerie ruin of a mill that once churned out Amalfi's high-grade paper.
During the ascent, you pass temptingly clear, albeit icy cold, streams and waterfalls that are particularly abundant in spring.
You can follow the trail all the way to the Valle delle Ferriere nature reserve, a lush, humid gorge with giant spongy walls of dripping moss and prehistoric ferns.
Timing your visit with Easter means getting the privilege to witness deeply felt local religious festivities.
On Good Friday, the lights of the city are switched off and an evocative procession of hooded figures singing and bearing a statue of the Dead Christ takes place after dark, illuminated only by flaming torches.
Over the Easter period, you can also try a seasonal Neapolitan speciality available at most bakeries. The pastiera is a fragrant, creamy tart made with ricotta cheese, cooked wheat, orange blossom water and orange zest.
Sadly, peak season on the Amalfi Coast now comes with a side of fighting for beach spots and sun loungers, booked-up restaurants and uncomfortably crowded hotels.
But in May, I wander the lemon-shaded paths of Hotel Santa Caterina almost alone, get a front row sun lounger at the beach club each day, and a table with a dreamy coastline view at breakfast.
Upon my departure at the end of the month, I walk out to the terrace for one last vista of the coastline.
The tiles are scattered with fallen wisteria blossoms, shaken free by the morning breeze. 'It means summer has come,' remarks a waiter, sweeping up the purple petals and with them the last vestiges of a serene spring.