Epic Hikes of the World ( PDFDrive )

© Gavin Gough | 4Corners
fishermen discuss the day’s catch
I turn to the west, sun on my back, and let Amalfi work its magic. The trail is
mostly downhill in this direction – a descent from Bomerano (at around 1903ft, or
580m) to sea-level Positano – but concentration is required. Some parts are
narrow, dropping off to the waves. Some require scrambling. Virtually all is rough
and uneven. But the rewards are unending. A peregrine falcon hovers above,
trained on some unsuspecting prey; when the raptor finally makes its dive I hear the
swoosh of its lightning-quick wings. There are deep-green gullies cloaked in holm
oaks, pungent thyme and sweet wild roses. There are teetering vineyards, some
cultivating gnarled ped’e palomma, Campania’s oldest grape variety. And there
are farmhouses balanced on improbable precipices, surely reliant on the trail’s
titular gods for their continued survival.
In the distance, the chi-chi island of Capri provides the dot of the Amalfi Coast’s
exclamation mark. Nearer though, the glittering blue is broken by a smaller scatter
of offshore rocks – the Sirenusas. According to Greek myth, this archipelago was
once inhabited by sirens, dangerous bird-women whose beautiful music lured
sailors to their deaths. I strain to listen, and do hear a melody. I’m fairly sure it’s
just the birds, but there’s a small, vertigo-inclined part of me that feels an urge to
leap for the islands, to dive off this cliff and plummet down into the sea. Perhaps
the sirens do still sing?