Capri & Ischia

Our next stops in Italy were the incredible islands of Capri and Ischia. Both are just off the Napoli coast, but they almost couldn’t be more different.

Capri is a small, gorgeous, incredibly vertical island, made up of mountains, rocky cliffs, caves, sea stacks, and a famous blue grotto. It’s been renowned since Roman times as a getaway for the rich and famous—emperors back then, movie stars & tycoons now. Surely you’ve heard of it…if only because you’ve worn Capri pants, eaten a Caprese salad, or drank a Capri Sun juice drink. Me, I used to have a Mercury Capri convertible. The place is ridiculously photogenic and full of upscale shops, fancy boutique hotels, and gobs of tourists. Though you can still get away from all that and find some amazing, isolated spots, as we did.

Ischia, on the other hand, is a much larger and less dramatic island. It may not have soaring cliffs and mountains, but it makes up for it with beautiful beaches, a stunning offshore castle, and…hot springs! Loads of them. But perhaps Ischia’s greatest wonder is the fact that it’s virtually unknown, except to Italians…and moviemakers seeking bucolic and timeless island settings. Ever seen The Talented Mr. Ripley or Il Postino? Then you’ve seen Ischia. (If not, you should…they’re both great.) On Ischia, it always feels like a lazy summer day, when you’re in no hurry to do anything or be anywhere, too busy lounging on the beach to worry about Instagramming your vacation. And why would you? You wouldn’t want the word to get out about this hidden gem.

Capri

Capri (pronounced KAH-pree by Italians) is small enough that you can enjoy it as a day trip, which is how most people do it. It’s a quick ferry ride from Sorrento (or Naples, Salerno, or Amalfi), and the boats run all day long. But they do fill up, so I had been sure to book our tickets immediately after arriving in Sorrento, for our last day there—which was also our last day with Amy’s parents.

If you’re feeling a bit more indulgent, or just don’t like adhering to rigid ferry schedules, there’s loads of locals offering private boat tours of the island. It’s actually not a bad option, because the very first thing you’re going to want to do when you get there is to circumnavigate the island. Not by land, which is nearly impossible, but by sea. This circuit is such a must-do that all the ferry companies offer a combined ticket that includes it, but you have to switch to a smaller, more agile, open-top boat upon arrival so that you can get closer to the sea caves and other formations and actually see stuff. This is how we did it, and it was great. (We could even almost make out some of the narration blaring over the boat’s loudspeaker.) The only nerve-wracking moment was threading our way through a small sea arch in the Faraglioni rocks on choppy seas, which looked challenging even for smaller boats than ours. But I wasn’t worried about crashing into the rocks. All the local skippers will tell you that kissing your sweetheart as you pass through this arch ensures you’ll stay together for life. I only barely managed to leap across the careening boat in time to smooch Amy and avoid disaster! Whew.

The small, private boats clearly are better suited for this sort of tour, because you have a local guide all to yourself, you can more easily access the caves, and also stop and anchor in some quiet coves to take a dip in the aquamarine water. Now that’s an Instagram moment. But the biggest reason most people circle the island is to access its most famous spot, the Blue Grotto. This tiny sea cave boasts magical, glowing blue water inside, caused by sunlight reflecting off the ocean floor into the cave. But you can only get to it by sea, a few hours a day, when the tide is low and conditions allow. Even then, the entrance is so small that you can only squeeze in by laying down inside a dinghy while an experienced boatman pulls you through via a rope in between swells. Not surprisingly, when it is open, there’s always a traffic jam of dinghies waiting their turn to get in, sometimes for an hour or more. We we decided to skip this pricey diversion and just enjoy a video of it. You can too, and learn almost everything else you need to about Capri, in these two great video clips by Rick Steves (both less than three minutes).

Once you’re back on dry land, you’re going to want to explore the town. The island is basically two small mountains rising steeply out of the sea connected by a wide earthen bridge. The main town, also named Capri, sits this saddle, which means no matter where you are in it, you probably have good views of something, and some lucky cats have 270° views. On the north side, Capri town spills down to the Grand Marina. Interestingly, there’s actually a second, lesser-known town on the west side of the island—confusingly named Anacapri—but tourists don’t generally go there because it’s so hard to get to. For a long time, the only path was a steep staircase carved into a cliff face called the Phoenecian Stairs. These days, a narrow road has been precariously cut into that same cliff face. But best I can tell, Anacapri seems to remain a quiet, locals-only part of the island off most tourists’ radar, and I’m sure that’s how its residents would like to keep it.

But unless you live here and have your own boat (and a private harbor to moor it in), about the only way you’re getting to the island is via the bustling Grand Marina. There’s no shortage of tourist shops and tacky restaurants in the port, but you didn’t splash out on a day trip to Capri to waste your time there. You’re heading straight up to Capri town instead. It’s a short but steep walk (we walked it back down), but it’s a lot more fun and exciting to take the funicular up. It’s a short trip; it’ll probably take you a lot longer to locate the mysteriously clandestine ticket booth than to ride to the top. If you’re feeling really glam, you can instead flag down one of the gaudy pink convertible taxis that ply the seafront, which I believe are purpose-built just for the island. Did I mention that Capri is a unique place?

Like Sorrento and all the towns of the Amalfi Coast, Capri town is a web of narrow streets and alleys that meander all over the hilly topography. Close to the town center, these streets are lined with cafés, gelaterias, tourist shops, upscale boutiques, and showrooms for some of Italy’s finest fashion brands. (Do Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and Chanel really do enough business here to each justify a store? We wondered.) As you follow these lanes further out, the shops give way to vegetable stands small but fancy hotels, more genteel restaurants, and homes for those lucky enough to live here. Keep going, and some of the paths leave the town entirely and wend their way out to the less civilized parts of the island. We were surprised to discover the town has its own fleet of miniature maintenance vehicles, even tiny trash trucks, designed specifically to navigate these little lanes, not unlike the golf carts that zip around luxury resorts. Guess you gotta get around somehow!

After an hour-long ferry ride to the island, another hour circumnavigating it, and finally getting ourselves up to the town, the first order of business was lunch. We didn’t have to wander far off the main square to find a cute but fairly empty restaurant with panoramic views over half the island. The service and food weren’t half bad either, all for what seemed like a reasonable price. It was good to know that Capri isn’t all overpriced hype and kitsch.

With full bellies and a few hours to kill, I then I led our crew—Amy, Griffin, and Amy’s parents—on one of my famous Google Maps-charted walking tours. As we followed one of the paths up towards the edge of town, we kept passing, and then getting passed by, an ambitious young couple that was heading to one of the more far-flung hotels for a romantic getaway. Though they were making a noble effort, they clearly hadn’t anticipated the long, steep, sweltering walk, and as they pulled their roller bags over the cobblestone path, I noticed the rubber wheels were literally disintegrating from the abuse. (I wondered briefly about the niche market for upscale, all-terrain Italian luggage! Can you imagine the commercials?)

After a while, and now at a pretty good height, the path continued past the last houses and into a dry pine forest. A little while later, we did find one more humble, well-shaded cottage with a cat sleeping on the step. It looked to be off the grid and only accessible via this foot path. Who lived out in this remote and romantic spot? A writer? An artist?

A few steps later, we arrived at a spectacular lookout point framed by a massive natural arch. Through it, hundreds of feet below us, we could see boats congregating in one of those aquamarine coves that we had just visited a couple hours earlier, but we doubted they could see us. While we gawked and took photographs, a couple other hikers appeared, but we were pretty certain that 99.8% of the tourists missed this magical spot just outside of town—their loss!

We continued along the trail, which suddenly plunged down a thousand meandering stairs to the water’s edge. We passed through another natural arch into a huge, shallow cave that had been reinforced with mortared stones; we guessed had served as a shelter, possibly for centuries. The trail kept going, up again, and I’m quite sure by this point that everybody was wondering where the heck I was taking them. I certainly hoped that Google Maps wasn’t leading me to a dead end! But after a mile or two, we started seeing homes along the path again, then a restaurant…and then suddenly the path turned into the Via Camarelle, the town’s most expensive shopping street. I was redeemed…and secretly a little relieved!

We spent the afternoon getting gelato and wandering around the shops. I took Griffin to a bustling playground I had found…because even Capri has schoolchildren. I wondered what sort of people made this surreal little paradise their home. They seemed normal enough. But I suppose people probably wonder that about Santa Barbara too!

If you visit Capri and have a little more time, you may want to explore some of the Roman ruins on the island. Various emperors, particularly Augustus and his successor Tiberius, were exceedingly fond of Capri; Augustus “built temples, villas, aqueducts, and planted gardens so he could enjoy his private paradise“, while “Tiberius permanently moved to Capri, running the Empire from there until his death” ten years later (Wikipedia). Apparently, the island made an ideal getaway for nervous rulers to take refuge from their enemies and avoid meeting the same fate as Julius Caesar! There may have been as many as twelve Imperial villas built on Capri, and the sprawling Villa Jovis in particular is one of the best-preserved Roman villas in Italy. But we didn’t make time to visit these since we’d already gotten our fill of ruins at Pompeii the day before.

For some odd reason, there’s also a chairlift to the top of the tallest mountain on the island (the one closer to Anacapri), which many people take and then hike down. Next time! For us, it was time to meander back to the port and catch the last ferry of the day. Luckily, I had just enough time to grab an Aperol spritz for the ride back. 😁 And Amy swears she’s returning for a girls’ trip.

Ischia

The next day, we bid arrivederci to Amy’s parents and Sorrento and hopped on a ferry to the island of Ischia, the largest of a cluster known as the Phlegrean Islands—which Capri is not part of. From the first moment we arrived in Ischia (apparently pronounced ISK-ee-uh), it was obvious how different it was from. First, it’s 4.5x as big as Capri. Second, it doesn’t have just one main town; it’s got a dozen small ones. And while Ischia actually has taller mountains than Capri, it’s not obvious because the topography is much less dramatic. Far as I know, there are no major sea caves, no massive cliffs, no Blue Grottos. There are no Gucci or Louis Vuitton stores in Ischia, no pink convertible taxis, no funiculars or chair lifts. There are regular roads, municipal buses, tuk-tuks, and lots of places you can rent motor scooters and electric bikes. There are also dozens of great beaches, plenty of seaside restaurants, cafés, and takeaway joints, no shortage of little shops, and of course the abundance of hot springs I already mentioned—most of which have been developed into little boutique hotels or sprawling thermal resorts. Oh, did I mention the castle?? More on all that in a moment.

Though Ischia is 19 miles from Naples, it’s technically part of the metropolitan city of Naples, which covers a massive area almost the size of Los Angeles and also includes Capri, Sorrento, and the entire Amalfi Coast. Go figure. But perhaps Ischia’s ties to Naples are not simply political, because it seems like most of the other visitors we saw there were Italians arriving on small boats from Naples port. There were also several very large ferry boats, which decanted not only passengers but also cars and motorcycles. Our guess is that the island is primarily a weekend getaway for Napoletanos, especially those wealthy enough to own a boat (or lucky enough to have friends that do). There’s something a little bit special about vacationing where the locals do. They’re in no hurry. They’re not stumbling around gawking at everything, snapping photos of people’s front doors, laundry lines, and stray cats (um…guilty of those) and buying tacky souvenirs. They’re here to unwind, have a drink, eat a few good meals, and lounge on the beach. Perfect, because that’s precisely what we were here to do too. (I’m sure we blended in just like native Italians!)

Though Ischia has a number of towns and ports, the principal ferry port is on the north side, and this is where we were staying. Amy told me that our place was close to the ferry pier, and she wasn’t kidding—it was literally across the street. Shortest distance we ever hauled our luggage! And though it didn’t look like much from the outside, the inside of our 3rd floor flat was probably newer and more immaculate than any other place we’ve stayed yet in Europe…and yet one of the most affordable. Under the hot Italian summer sun, it was really pleasant to have a quiet, comfortable, air conditioned refuge like this to return to, complete with a little porch that looked out over the port. It was a perfect, low-key place to spend my forty-something-th birthday, which happened a few days after we arrived.

Ischia was one of the first places that we slowed down enough to do a bit of shopping. I for one made some upgrades to my summer wardrobe, picking up the fedora and lemon shirt you’ll see featured in many of the photos in this post. And a pair of colorful swim trunks that are standard length here but short enough by American standards that Amy seems quite worried about me wearing them. And an interesting local liquor made from…arugula! Weird…but strangely good.

As usual, here are a few of our other noteworthy experiences on Ischia:

Playing on the beach

Amy & Griffin’s favorite activity. Amy grew up in SoCal and spent most weekends at the beach or pool. Truly, there is nothing that makes her happier than laying in the sun. (Though she says she’s craving some real lounging and trashy novels instead of chasing a rowdy 6 year-old!) Though the island as a whole was not crowded, some of the more accessible beaches were, and Amy was happy to pay a few bucks to rent a chair and umbrella and sip lemon soda while Griffin splashed in the turquoise water. You would think that by now Griffin would be a strong swimmer, but as his swim teacher once noted: he’s a dangerous combination of no fear and no skill. That said, like most kids, Griffin is at his happiest outdoors: digging holes, collecting rocks and sticks, and designing clever ways to move water around (mom is so proud that he may join the water field one day).

Exploring the Castello Aragonese

Ischia’s most spectacularly photogenic feature is a dramatic, rocky islet just offshore topped with a sprawling castle that looks straight outta Game of Thrones. It’s so prominent that it’s visible for miles, possibly even from the mainland. There have actually been fortresses on this rock since least 474 BC when a Greek hero (named, um, Hiero) built one. But most of the castle you see now was built primarily by Alphonse of Aragon in 1441—which explains the name. The brochure we picked up there has a fairly succinct (if grammatically questionable) history:

In the next centuries, the plunders and the long rules of the Visigoths, the Vandals, the Ostrogoths, the Arabs, the Normans, the Suebi and the Angevins completely transformed Hiero’s fortress. The eruption of Mount Epomeo in 1301 gave a considerable boost to the development of the settlement on the Castle. The Ischians took refuge on the small island which assured a higher quietness and safety, and they gave birth to a real little town. In 1441 Alphonse of Aragon rebuilt the old Angevin stronghold, connected the rock to the main island with a bridge and erected mighty walls and fortifications, inside which nearly all the inhabitants of Ischia found shelter and protection from the forays of the pirates. The most splendid period for the Castle was at the end of the 16th century, when the islet hosted 1,892 families, together with the Clarisses’ Convent, the Abbey of Basilians from Greece, the Bishop with the Chapter and the Seminar, the Prince with the garrison. There were thirteen churches, 7 of which were parishes. Around 1750, once the danger of the pirates was over, the inhabitants looked for more comfortable dwellings in the cities of the island of Ischia.

Tour brochure from the Castello Aragonese

You read that right—at one point, pretty much the entire population of Ischia was crammed into this offshore castle because they were so terrified of pirates, which were a very real threat here for centuries. I can’t really imagine how nearly 2,000 families fit inside its walls…or what they ate…or what the sanitation conditions must have been like! The castle was later shelled by the British, half destroyed, and abandoned, but a wealthy lawyer bought up the whole thing in 1911, and he and his family have been managing and restoring it ever since, while keeping it open to the public. Respect.

We wandered out the rock causeway to tour the castle, which consumed most of an afternoon as we followed the suggested route that zigzags to the top. The complex goes on forever, with ramparts, guard shacks, towers, churches, crypts, monasteries, prisons, cemeteries, homes, olive orchards, grape vines, winemaking facilities, mills. and more. There’s a modern restaurant discretely installed at the top, rotating art installations, and a film festival which is hosted on the grounds each year. But Griffin’s and my favorite spot was a tiny church, apparently still in use, on the very edge of one of the highest cliffs of the island, in which we found two lounging cats. There was also a considerably more sobering museum dedicated to medieval torture techniques and devices, many used at the castle. I have to admit that this is the first time I’d seen a real chastity belt, made of rusty iron…including versions for both men & women. Ouch. (I’m omitting the photo I took from this post since this is a family blog!)

Luxuriating at the Poseidon Thermal Resort

Did I say that Amy’s favorite thing was lounging on the beach? I lied. In fact, it was visiting the stunning Poseidon Thermal Resort. She still talks about it. Now, there are definitely more exclusive resorts on the island which cater to a specific sort of crowd. But there is none that is so grand and so extensive as Poseidon. The sprawling 15-acre complex, at the foot of a cliff and overlooking the Med, includes 20 different pools at various temperatures, a wellness & massage center, three dining areas, one of the nicest beaches on Ischia with private lounge chairs and umbrellas, and acres of immaculately manicured gardens (something extremely unusual in Italy). It’s open to the public, and most facilities are included for a flat entry fee. But they manage to keep it pretty classy and serene. All but three of the pools are off-limits to children. And they’re so concerned with maintaining perfection that all patrons with hair (that would exclude me) must wear 1950s-era rubber bathing caps, lest a stray hair sully one of the pools. The end result is magnificent…and surprisingly, not even that crowded on the weekday we went. Of course, Griffin was rather annoyed that he couldn’t explore all of it. The kid-friendly pools (also not crowded) were at the very end of the park, so Amy and I took turns hanging there with him while the other explored the pools and, in Amy’s case, got a massage. Towards the end of the afternoon, just as we were contemplating heading back, the heavens opened and it started raining, which sent most people (the ones who were already out of the pools and dressed) scrambling into the covered dining areas. People ordered wine and somebody spontaneously started playing the piano, creating a festive atmosphere in contrast to the grayness outside. It was a strange and wonderful end to a very relaxing day.

Traipsing around the villages

Did I mention how rustic and charming the villages on Ischia can be? On the lengthy bus ride to Poseidon, we hopped off in one of them, Forio, where we enjoyed coffee and pastries, Amy bought a Fiesta dress (ahem), and we wandered the main street. Archways of colorful lights spanned the street, off during the day but undoubtedly lovely at night. Shops in pastel-colored buildings displayed their wares out front. Café tables filled the tree-lined square around a fountain. A particularly photogenic white Vespa sat next to baskets of vegetables and strings of garlic outside a lovely old family-run shop (Serpico). Lured in, we found a cornucopia of locally made jams, wines, limoncello and melon liquors, and other regional specialties, while a ham hock hung from the ceiling. This is Italy at its most freakin’ adorable.

Closer to our flat, we found another little gem, a section of town known as Ischia Ponte (ponte means bridge, probably so-named because the causeway out to the castle starts here). Also replete with cute little shops, cafés, churches, and moss-covered fountains, this cobblestoned neighborhood has somehow so successfully resisted modernity that it effortlessly served as the backdrop for much of The Talented Mr. Ripley, a film set on a fictional Italian island in the 1950s, and it could probably easily impersonate even earlier eras.

Ziplining at the Ischia Adventure Park

For my birthday, which was also our last full day in Ischia, we decided to do something a little different: The Ischia Adventure Park. I found it on Google Maps, but after checking out the Italian-only website, I wasn’t entirely sure that it was actually going to be open. Nonetheless, we took a bus out there, which wound up the mountain to a ramshackle neighborhood on the edge of town that definitely didn’t see many tourists, but did enjoy some fantastic views over the Castello Aragonese. We wandered down a road until we found the place, set in a sparse, dry forest and looking more like a parking lot than an adventure park. It was all overgrown and deserted, but it was only just opening time, and the staff did start trickling in. They were tickled to have some foreign tourists here and quickly got both Griffin and I harnessed up. No waivers or disclaimers to sign, nothing to pay up front. It was all a bit unnervingly casual compared to how we do it in the States! But the equipment and instructors seemed legit, so off we went, Amy accompanying Griffin to the kids course while I headed to the adults one. The only other participants on my course were a couple of quiet teenagers, regulars I was told, so the instructor focused all his attention on me. A half-dozen adrenaline-pumping ziplines later, the instructor asked if wanted to continue onto the advanced aerial obstacle course, and I couldn’t think of any reason to chicken out and say no. It was reasonably challenging but not too difficult, and I was halfway through it before I realized that the two teenagers had disappeared. When the instructor explained that the course was too much for them, I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed with myself…or nervous about what I’d gotten into! But I finished it all without incident or gross bodily injury, and had fun too. Apparently, Griffin did fantastic as well, climbing a 12 meter climbing wall like a boss and demonstrating plenty of agility on other challenges, while other kids got scared off or quit in tears. That’s my boy!

We were sad to leave Ischia the next day, and didn’t rule out coming back someday. But now we were off for five more days of relaxing on the spectacular Amalfi Coast…