“When good Americans, die,” as Oscar Wilde wrote in “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” “they go to Paris.”
But when even better Americans die, I would respectfully suggest, they go to Italy’s Amalfi Coast. And when the very best and most saintly of all Americans pass over to the other side, my guess is – whisper it – that they’ll quietly want to check in to Il San Pietro in Positano.
Thankfully, of course, you don’t need actually to die to go to Il San Pietro, although I admit your bank balance after a visit may cause minor cardiac arrest. Believe me, though, you will recover and it will be worth every last euro.
Without waxing overly lyrical, this celebrated Relais & Chateaux family hotel, perched above the rocks just minutes from Positano, gives new meaning to the word “paradise.”
The views, needless to say, are stupendous. As you stand with dropped jaw and gaze out across the Mediterrean – which at this point, to be precise, is called the Tyrrenhian Sea – never did the sea spread out beneath you bluer, wider, vaster, more opalescent, more undulating or beckoning than here. This is no ordinary sea view. You have to pinch yourself that it is all for real.
You could stay in a hovel on this spot and still be utterly enchanted.
But Il San Pietro is no hovel. From the signature scent as you enter – an explosion of citrus with hints of bergamot – and the greeting from general manager Andrea Zana, in his polo neck under his sport jacket (the way only an Italian can wear a polo neck), you know you’ve come to the right address.
Each of the hotel’s 57 rooms is different, because there is nothing, but nothing, uniform about this idiosyncatic wonder of a hotel, which feels more like a family home than a hostelry, because in a sense this is exactly what it is. From the zingy, baby blue and white floor tiles to the sparkling white bathrooms (where even the toilet paper comes in its own white wrapper, cheerfully announcing “Il San Pietro” with the hotel’s signature blue and white monogram), these rooms exude freshness and winning simplicty. And facing either the town of Positano itself or the captivating village of Praiano – the side from which you will have the benefit of watching the superb sunrise each morning if you’re an early riser – each one has its own terrace, the star jasmine about to explode into delicate white flowers when I visited in mid-April.
What do you do at Il San Pietro? Sunbathe and swim: The hotel is the only one in Positano with accesss to its own private beach. Or play tennis. The hotel has one of the Amalfi Coast’s only hotel tennis courts and it is highly prized. Or imbibe: Drinking Negronis at the bar or on the dreamy hotel terrace would be another way to avoid monotony.
What do you not do? You don’t watch all the gorgeous Italian and French women who look as if they’ve been poured into their perfectly sleek summer shifts and fret that you didn’t lose those extra six pounds before emabrking on your Amalfi Coast odyssey. Because, you know what, to everyone who works here – and there is a positively profligate staff-to-guest ratio – every guest is beautiful. Didn’t I tell you everybody at Il San Pietro is family?
And, of course, you eat. At the hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant, Zass, for the tenderest baby lamb cutlets with fried zucchini and glorious lemon baba, or at San Pietro’s seaside restaurant, Carlino – reached by the elevator which cuts through sheer rock down to the sea shore – where you head for spaghetti with clams and mussels or tagliatelle with lobster.
Breakfasts don’t come more elegant than at Il San Pietro. “Buongiorno, signor e signora, How did you sleep? And where would you like to sit today – on the terrace or perhaps, as it is still a little cool outside this morning, just inside by the window?” asks the restaurant manager, whose only concern, like all other staff at Il San Pietro, is your contentment. The buffet is a cornucopia — ricotta-filled buns, sour cherry tarts and all manner of Neapolitan baked goods, followed by eggs with golden yokes from lucky hens, eggs that actually taste of, well – eggs. And wonderful, aromatic coffee served in exquisite, porcelain cups.
Andrea, the general manager, appears, strolls around the room, smiling, greeting each guest by name. “How did you sleep? What plans for the day? Or maybe no plans at all? Splendid!”
Retail therapy? Have the boatman drive you around the bay in the hotel boat and drop you at the jetty at Positano, avoiding the traffic-jammed coast road – and the inevitable crowds – and make your stylish entrance via the beach instead. So chic. Explore, enjoy and shop your heart out, taking care not to miss Caramica Assunta, the best ceramic shop in town, or Bottega di Brunella, the third-generation linen store which still manufactures its garments in Positano and exports them all over the world. And then, when you’re done, and can’t carry a single thing more, WhatsApp the captain to come pick you up for the 10-minute ride back to Il San Pietro.
A final note. If all this sounds appealing and you think you might like to visit Il San Pietro with a few friends, consider renting the hotel’s latest addition, the nearby Palazzo Santa Croce, a 17th- century Baroque villa and former bishop’s ressidence accommodating nine guests, with its antique furnishings, original frescoes and wellness area inspired by ancient Roman baths. It’s available to rent by the week and, frankly, who’d want to go for less?
One of the world’s wealthiest men, a veritable collector of hotels himself and a regular guest at Il San Pietro – a gentleman whom I choose not to name and will simply call Mr.X – has repeatedly offered Il San Pietro’s co-owner Vito Cinque and the owning family a large sum of money to buy the hotel, but wise and dedicated hotelier that he is, Signor Cinque keeps refusing, to the point where Mr. X now calls Mr. Cinque “Mr. No.”
It’s probably the only time a guest request has ever been turned down at glorious, intoxicating, unforgettable Il San Pietro.
