Undulating along the coast, the high road from Praiano to Salerno rendered us mute with its astounding panoramas. As we rounded a corner not far outside Praiano, Andrea slowed to point out a tiny cove tucked into a niche of the coastline.
From our cliffside perspective, the clutch of colorful little fishing boats seemed more like toys bobbing in the cobalt blue water, waiting for a giant child to return to play.
Several turns later, the little town of Amalfi revealed itself, tumbling down the hill to its bustling waterfront action. We continued along the sinuous Amalfi Coast road, snaking slowly towards Salerno. Craning our necks to catch glimpses of the postage-stamp-sized beaches tickling the turquoise water, we were mostly silent.
Just past Vietri Sul Mare, the last town of the Amalfi Coast, Kris asked for a breather. Everyone got out to gulp fresh air and stretch legs. By now, the previous night’s partiers were looking rather green. Andrea assured them the worst was over and it was but five minutes now to reach the straightaway of the autostrada — a direct shot up into Montoro Inferiore.
A few minutes later, we hit the town of Salerno. The tortuous turns were behind us, and we glided smoothly up the hill outside Salerno to our destination, Montoro Inferiore.
Montoro Inferiore is not on the tourists’ map, nor featured in any guidebook. But it should be.
At the top of a hill, the land flattens out into acres of growing things surrounded by mountains, an agricultural upper deck.
As we pulled into the town proper, we wondered at the rows of streamers stretched across the main street, indicating some impending, or possibly just-happened festival.
We lumbered through the small streets, keeping our eyes peeled for a certain church: the Chiesa di Maria Santissima del Carmine.
Andrea had to stop to ask a local for directions. We continued searching.