They say that the Balearic Islands are heaven on earth or that the Grand Canyon is a must, and yet in the Amalfi Coast, at least once in a lifetime, there passed the world. Enough lincipit to make one guess the grandeur of the opera. A glance, even a fleeting one, at the edge of the sea that stands out between the maritime pines and the blue/gold dome of the cathedral of vietri and you are bewitched.
Those colors, those smells, you can’t get out of them. Seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it? It is. Some things you don’t see, you don’t believe. So you go out to the sea and start going down to the valley. You test the steering wheel and the suspension of the car because the road is rough. The hairpin bends over the sea give each bend a new snapshot, each one better than the last if possible, in a crescendo that seems to never end.
