Clipper cruise of Amalfi Coast

THE towns cling to the cliffs, the houses suspended high above the Mediterranean as if carved from the rock face in an arc that stretches from Civitavecchia to Sicily.

Amalfi

IT MAY be a well-trodden tourist track but the Amalfi Coast should be visited at least once in a lifetime, writes Mike O'Connor.

It is an arc that embraces Sorrento, Capri, Positano, Taormina and Tyrrhenian Sea islands such as Limpari and the volcanic Stromboli and travellers flock there in their thousands in the summer months.

This was one reason we visited at the end of the season in the first week of October when the crowds were less chaotic, the temperature hovered around 28C and the sea was yet to take on an autumnal chill.

It's a basic law of travel that if there are 28 platforms on a railway station, then your train will depart from No.28, and so it was that the train from Rome's Termini station for Civitavecchia left from 28.

Sweat streaming from our faces after sprinting the length of the sprawling station, we hauled ourselves on board for the one hour, $EU4 ($A5) trip to the port, a preferable option to the $EU120-plus charged for a cab.

The Royal Clipper sailed that night on a seven-day cruise along the Amalfi coast, heading south in a calm sea that was to remain tranquil until the last day, cloudless skies and idyllic spring weather a postcard backdrop to the Italian Riviera.

It moored on the first day at Ponza, an island of no particular significance except perhaps to the small fishing community that lives there.

Locals from Naples holiday there but on the day we visited it was Sunday and Ponza was closed. Two hundred and fifty people with pockets full of euros might just have been deposited from a cruise ship and be wandering the streets looking for something to buy but absolutely nothing alters the Italian tradition of Sunday closing.

The Royal Clipper differs from most cruise ships in being a true sailing ship, a steel-hulled replica of the great sailing vessels that once raced between Australia and England, hulls laden with grain and wool. It has a passenger complement of no more than 240 and there are none of the trappings normally associated with cruising such as multiple dining rooms, casinos and Las Vegas-style show rooms and nightclubs.

It's not a luxury ship but sits in the upper end of the market, its massive masts and huge sails affording it an air of exclusivity.

Cabin space compares favourably with traditional cruise ships, shipboard prices are in euros and reasonable, with a glass of wine about $A5.

We called next at Sorrento, a classic Italian seaside town, to the north of which lie the ruins of Pompeii and the towering presence of Mt Vesuvius, which erupted with such destructive force in AD79.

You can take a lift from the wharf or climb a zig-zagging staircase up to the square where tourists rub shoulders with the natives in the narrow, cobbled streets that run off from the piazza while the town goes about its business, largely oblivious to the visitors who wander its streets.

On another day we anchored off Amalfi, its houses and hotels perched impossibly on near-vertical hillsides, narrow streets climbing away from the cathedral that dominates the town centre and motor scooters threading their way through the pedestrian chaos.

We walked along the coastal road that dips through the centre of town, looking from a highpoint out across the deep blue of the sea and the hotels and villas that stretched away into the midday haze.

Later that day, we sailed for Capri, which we reached in the late afternoon, anchoring off what is arguably Italy's most exclusive enclave. The mega yachts usually moored in its marina had mostly gone, due to the lateness of the season, heading back to Monte Carlo or dispatched to the Caribbean to await the arrival of their appallingly wealthy owners.

The Roman emperor Tiberius had an eye for real estate and built a number of villas on Capri, staging orgies there and establishing it as a playground for pleasure-seekers.

Little has changed although of the orgies, alas, there was no sign.

We took the cable car that climbs up the mountain on which the village rests and walked past its chic shops and restaurants.

"It's like Rodeo Drive by the sea," remarked my partner, as apt a comparison as you could find.

The walls guarding its villas are ivy covered, the restaurants dimly lit and the tree-covered hills glitter with the lights of the privileged few.

We took a seat on a hotel terrace, bought two glasses of wine at $A13 each and watched as the hotel's elegantly dressed guests wandered off to presumably fabulous restaurants. We drank the wine and made plans to return one summer and rent a villa on Capri for a month, a scheme predicated on a significant change in our financial fortunes.

It can be done, however, as we found when on the ship we met Richard, an American who sold his home in Denver, Colorado eight years ago and moved to a small town near Portofino where he rents an apartment.

"The first year I was here I rented a five-bedroom villa by the sea," he said.

"I got a little carried away as there was only myself. Now I have a two-bedroom apartment."

Richard, a retired airline employee, seemed to be living his dream.

Royal Clipper uses its engines for propulsion to maintain its schedule, hoisting the sails when the winds permit and on the next day they did, the ship heeling as it carved a silent track across the sea, the creaking of the rigging and the surge of the water along its blue hull the only sounds.

We sailed further south, anchoring off Taormina in Sicily where the town proper sits high above the sea, an impediment overcome by handing $EU20 to a taxi driver who deposited us in the main street.

Here, the The Godfather soundtrack drifted from souvenir shops and Marlon Brando's face as Il Padrone, The Godfather, peered out from numerous T-shirts.

Did I buy one? Of course.

We had lunch up an alleyway, a Hollywood setting of potted bougainvillea and carnations, red-and-white checked tablecloths and great food cooked by a Sicilian mamma eggplant in a thick tomato sauce with bread and olive oil and a carafe of local white wine.

Total cost? $EU20.

We sailed from Taormina for Lipari in the Aeolian Islands, notable mainly for the active volcano on nearby Stromboli, its red glow visible as we passed it at dusk as the wind began to strengthen.

By noon, the ship was making its way through a heavy swell, a bonus for those who appreciate the sensation of a tall ship dealing with the vagaries of the sea.

We loved it, standing on deck with the wind whipping at our faces and watching the cream-topped rollers slide beneath the hull, breaking occasionally over the bow. Others found it less to their liking and, that evening, there were more than a few empty tables in the dining room.

The Amalfi coast is a stunning stretch of coastline, irresistibly colourful and charismatic.

It may be a well-trodden tourist track but it should be visited at least once in a lifetime and there are few better ways of doing so than from the deck of the Royal Clipper.