Autumn in Campania

Here in Campania the nights are drawing in and there’s a definite chill in the air. The much asked question of whether we also change our clocks here in Italy was answered last weekend, with us being blessed with an extra hour in bed but robbed of an hour of daylight that evening; an unfair exchange in my eyes! Autumn is definitely here with it’s inevitable successor not far behind.

I love it though! The energy-sapping heat is no longer exhausting us, the early fresh, cool air reminds me of mornings back at home; when you knew it was going to be a beautiful day once the sun had dragged itself up over the horizon. On days like those you want to get out there to make the most of it and soak up the last few rays of summer. Which is exactly what we’ve been doing.

Regulations have curtailed a few exploration plans but autumn hikes and sunny bike rides have been the order of the day at weekends. I won’t bore you with every single outing but a few highlights stand out. Before we were confined to our province (don’t feel too bad for us, it’s quite a large province containing a lot to do!) we were lucky enough to pedal our way along some of the most beautiful roads of the region. The first outing was north to the extinct volcano of Roccamonfina. Our route gradually took us up off the flat valley, where we left the busy, dirty main roads behind and were soon winding our way up the mammoth mountain towering over us. A ten mile climb ensued, consisting of peaceful, windy roads through woodland with the occasional glimpse to the valley below. The last part was just absolutely magical, the road entered grove after grove of sweet chestnut trees, nestled amongst moss covered rocky crags, creating an eerie, mystical scene. The likes of which you’d expect to see as the backdrop to a film about fairies or woodland elves. For mile after mile we’d been the only people on the road, in fact we hadn’t seen another soul for ages. However, as we neared the top, amongst the chestnut groves we came across cars abandoned at the roadside, the gentle hum of chatter drifting over to us from families scouring the ground and filling bag after bag with sweet chestnuts. This was obviously an age old Autumn tradition for many local families. The climb finally culminated on the edge of Roccamonfina itself, a picturesque medieval town where we then followed the road that contoured around the crater offering fantastic views from all sides before a long descent back to where we had parked. It’s probably the most picturesque ride we’ve done down here!

A strong contender for the title came not long after, one sunny October morning. I couldn’t stop smiling as we were cruising the very road that is in the top ten most scenic drives of all time…the Amalfi coast. The locals were still yet to emerge, which meant the roads were so, so quiet and around every twist and turn there were uninterrupted beautiful views of the crystal clear waters, blue sky and gorgeous coastline. By the time we’d covered the 23 miles of constantly rolling road (there’s no flat, straight bits at all!) we arrived at Positano for much needed sustenance in the form of coffee and cake. After our pit stop, the world had woken up and the ride back was a battle of the cyclists and motorbikes! The spectacular backdrop and stunning views distracted from the build up in traffic though and every pedal stroke was pure joy. This is the stuff dreams are made of and we’re so lucky to have it just down the road.

It’s not just lycra that we’ve been donning, the walking boots have seen a fair bit of action too. Despite the Italian map system being somewhat lacking, we’ve managed to find a few good walks. (We are so lucky to have Ordance Survey in the UK with well sign posted routes.) This last weekend we went to Castellammare di Stabia, a town on the bay of Naples nestled in to the ‘shoulder’ of the Sorrento peninsula. This slightly run down, industrial town still has plenty to offer with a ‘lungomare’ or sea front that makes a nice change to the row upon row of private lidos that line nearly every other inch of coastline here. We had booked in for one night to La Chiaja Art and Relais hotel. A small, independently run business near the seafront. It was a gem of place. The standard to which this old seafront wool shed had been renovated was amazing, with luxurious touches but sympathetic to it’s heritage. With only a few rooms it had the feel of an exclusive hotel but what really made the stay was the fantastic member of staff who looked after us, a lady called Annarita, who offered customer service far above and beyond what you come to expect. The piece de resistance was a fabulous terrace overlooking the bay with views of Vesuvius in one direction and the Latti mountain range of the peninsula in the other. It was here where we watched the sun slide from the sky in to the sea in a wonderful glow of oranges and pinks.

The following morning saw a delicious breakfast and an opportunity for us to practise our Italian with Annarita who spoke slowly enough for us to figure out what was being said! We then walked along the seafront to the town centre where we took the cable car up to Mount Faito, the highest mountain of the peninsula. The cable car is certainly not for vertigo sufferers as it reaches a steepness of 60% in places but the eight minute journey offered lovely views of the bay….until we got to the top that is, where we found ourselves in the cloud! I’d read about a walk along the ridge at the top so we set off in to the mist, leaving behind the few other people who were up there too. Whilst it was a shame to not have the fantastic views of the bay below, or the blue sky and sunshine, in a way it was even better. The path wound it’s way through woodland taking us up and down as we followed the contours of this huge mountain. The mist hung like a veil over the wooded glades creating a mystical atmosphere. We were accompanied by the soundtrack of crunching leaves below our feet, like a carpet of gold and russet, sprinkled with furry pockets of sweet chestnuts; some of which had split open, showcasing their shiny, smooth wares within. The path continued up a steep bank, past dew covered spider webs which glistened in the autumnal light. The trees opened out in to a clearing and as we approached, the sun’s rays were battling through the thin cloud, creating shards and tunnels of sunlight that dappled the surroundings, seemingly tangible in their definition. The path culminated on a rocky outcrop where perched the small church of San Michele; it’s scaffolding facade an appropriate metaphor to the hidden view below the clouds where we stood. Although a reasonably short walk, the sheer beauty of the woodland made it exceptional and the lack of view only enhanced the impact of what we were lucky enough to see. Even though we were less than an hour from our home, it was good for the soul to get away. A timely trip too, as like everywhere in the world at the moment, the restrictions are slowly encroaching once again.