The Curation: Volume 32
A guide to the Cilento Coast, hotels in Slovenia, special hotel additions to the Italy hotel list, new hotels to know about, and a note from me about my memories of Italy, two weeks later.
Today, we first have a little journal entry of sorts. Skip it if you’re not here for anything personal and just want to know about hotels. I will not judge, promise. But, I do share how I would have re-organized my itinerary in hindsight. Then, a guide to the hotels, towns, and beaches of the Cilento Coast. As promised, we’re back with seven ridiculously good new additions to the Italy Hotel List (new names get added to the Google Map every time, a new edition will come out on happyhoteling.com seasonally). Next, a spotlight on special hotels in Slovenia, which I’ve been wanting to write for some time. We wrap with four new hotels to know about.
Happy Hoteling, you Good Person with Good Taste!
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Reflecting on My Trip After Two Weeks
I have had a lot of time to reflect – I tested positive for COVID for 10 days straight. But sick or not, often this post-trip chapter is one of my favorites. The nostalgia part. And even the ever-present confusion about how it’s possible for me to be two such different humans traveling and at home.
For some reason, my mind always tells me I have to pick favorite memories. That’s a hard thing for anyone, and I’m no different. I really am a glass half full type of girl. But, certain memories do “win”, for certain reasons.
Besides Capri, Sestri Levante was the place I’m yearning to return to most. I really loved it there. I don’t know if my family heritage plays into that – I’m sure it does at least a little – but I do know it checks every box of what I look for these days when spending time in Italy. True beauty, a vibrant sense of community, high and low, and in general, nothing that “spoils it.” Great crowd, no weird mix of architectural epochs, affordable prices, mostly Italian spoken, and very alive but not too busy. If I have one regret on my trip, it was not going back to Sestri after my flight to Sicily was cancelled. I could easily spend a month there.
Of the most magical moments, three stand out. First, obviously, Andrea Bocelli and Brian May performing together at Teatro del Silenzio. I still can’t believe I got to witness that in real life. My life. I’m so lucky that I have that as a forever memory. Second, night two in Capri, at Villa Verde with Stefanie. It was just one of those nights where I felt so grateful for the friend in front of me, every song was “my song,” the food tasted exactly as we wanted it to, and we had the giggles. Girlhood! Third, a legit nap on the beach at Grand Hotel dei Castelli. I rarely fall asleep anywhere but a bed, but one afternoon I was dreaming for hours. Heaven. It’s ironic and somewhat revealing that none of these moments had much to do with a hotel.
It’s also ironic that the hotel that had the most flaws and the most uncomfortable bed is the one I wish I were staying at, in this exact moment. Again, Grand Hotel dei Castelli. It wasn’t my favorite hotel I stayed at. Nor was it one that really wowed me. The heart is an organ I fail to understand, but I do try to listen. I love it there.
But also, there are so many tiny moments that aren’t remarkable or moving but mean something to me. Venturing out for lunch in Genoa, struck by the heat and almost deciding to turn around and order room service, but then stumbling upon towering arches with spectacular tiled floors and the light hitting just right. Or having a genuine laugh and a real flirt with a cute waiter at Grand Hotel Miramare, in Italian. There’s something really gratifying about making someone belly laugh in a language that’s not yours. Or meeting a teenage Algerian girl in the taxi line at Roma Termini station and chatting about the ever-powerful female unifier: fashion. Walking through Florence and, for the first time, realizing I didn’t need directions. Spending hours chatting with Dario, the bartender at Palazzo Talìa, about everything from American politics to beaches in Maremma. Finding a McDonalds right off the Autostrada just at the moment I decided I was going to perish of starvation and that my only cure was McSomething. Being so hot at 2am in my desperately beautiful room at Palazzo Guadagni in Florence, (yes, AC was on full blast) that I jigged my handheld fan to a water bottle for a makeshift bedside fan. Having a granita di limone from the stand outside of Hotel Luna in Capri, where I had my first of the tart treats in 1998. Seeing the Via Krupp gates open for the first time since I’ve hit puberty. Walking across the Arno just as the sun set over Florence. Sitting on the church steps in Piazza Santo Spirito, secretly puffing on a pot pen from California. The feeling of elation going to sleep at Palazzo Talìa. Returning to my room at La Minerva and full on watching the drone footage of Capri on the tv as if it were the most bingeable show of my life. Alessandro from Pulalli pulling himself away from the restaurant on a packed night to help me negotiate with a taxi driver for the next morning. Driving through Umbria, mesmerized by the sunflowers. Sitting at dinner at Tenuta di Murlo, my first night in Italy, feeling like this is what all these months of suffering have been for. I could go on and on. Travel is a mosaic of mundane magic. Memories don’t often come from plans, at least for me.
With that said, I will never say no to a flawless trip itinerary, and I think I could re-arrange it with hindsight to make less room for unavoidable mishaps.
First of all, I know by now that Capri should always be my last stop. I am the absolute opposite of a go-go-go person 99% of the year, but I become someone entirely different on that island. It both tires me out, in the best way possible, and cannot be topped. I don’t regret not continuing on to the Cilento Coast and Lago Maggiore, but I do regret not experiencing both at some point on the trip.
I would flip it a bit, if I were planning it again. I would have started the trip in Sicily, with a connecting flight in London. I’m good at pushing through a long travel day, and realize sometimes I rather do it up front. I would have left three days earlier so I could spend a week on the Aeolian islands, 4 nights in Salina, 3 nights in Panarea. Then, I would have flown directly to Pisa airport and rented a car to go to Teatro del Silenzio. From there, I would have gone to Tenuta di Murlo in Umbria, and then up to Veneto, to Hotel Villa Cipriani in Asolo, which I wanted to stay at so badly but it was fully booked when I had five days open up. From there, I would have headed to Lago Maggiore with two nights on Isola Bella in the Suite Ninfea. Then, down to Villa La Madonna in Piemonte for a night or two, before heading to Sestri Levnte. I wish I could have split my time between Grand Hotel dei Castelli and Hotel Helvetia (they were fully booked for my dates). And then, a night or two at Abbadia di San Giorgio before dropping the car in La Spezia and taking the train to Rome for Palazzo Talìa. From there, I would have taken the Frecciarossa train to Salerno, where I would have rented a car again and done my Cilento itinerary, which I’m sharing below. Lastly, I would have dropped the car in Naples before ending the trip in Capri. I think I have next summer’s itinerary figured out already, and I’ll surely share soon.
Saved in: the Cilento Coast
Chee-len-toh. I said see-len-toh for years until Yolanda Edwards, who I admire infinitely, said it correctly on a Zoom chat. It was a “duh” moment – never in Italian has a “c” at the beginning of the word started with an “s” sound. But as is the way with all my Italian, I learn by listening.
Cilento. Con un c. With a “ch” sounding start. A special place, I’m almost positive. A part of Italy mostly seen by Italians.
South of the Amalfi Coast, easily accessible by Naples airport. It’s where I was intended to end my trip, and did all the research for. It’s a place that really calls to me, and it is already on the itinerary for next summer.
When planning, the theory I wanted to test was the ideal combo is either Procida/Ischia and Capri, or Cilento Coast and Capri. Not the Amalfi Coast and Capri.
Unless you can spend monthly rent on a nightly rate, the Amalfi Coast is not necessarily your place. Almost everything is expensive, and nothing is easy to get to and from – unless, of course, you are able to book private boat transfers to/from everywhere. Water is the way to win, for sure. But that’s not the reality for the vast majority. After having dozens of clients message me post-Amalfi Coast and Capri trip sharing that they wish they spent the whole time in Capri, I realized perhaps my bias might be a true and common sentiment. Perhaps. Many, many people adore and love and frequent the Amalfi Coast. As many times as I’ve been, I’ve never fallen in love. But to be fair, I’ve never been off-season.
Enter Cilento. A way to be on land and travel by car, without traffic. A place easy to get to and a world away. A region unspoiled and fairly priced. Somewhere you get both charming seaside and hillside towns, and water consistently Gatorade Blue.
Even though I didn’t get to frequent these places first-hand, this is where I was going to stay, and what I was going to do on the Cilento Coast.