Then we signed on to Intervac.com, the same house-swap site we had used years ago for a wonderful vacation in France. Though there are thousands of listings all over the world, there are few in Amalfi. I guess no one ever wants to leave there, for good reason.
We finally found one place in the seaside town of Maiori and sent out a pitch: Would they trade their two-bedroom apartment 10 minutes from the beach for our suburban house 20 minutes from Boston? They couldn’t swap during our time frame, but we could rent the apartment, which was their “holiday home.’’ It was cheap, 400 euros a week, or just under $600 (at $1.45 to the euro). We wired them a down payment for a two-week stay and several months later found ourselves lugging suitcases and following Tina and Giovanni from the Maiori bus stop to their digs.
The place wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and convenient. OK, the bathroom was a bit dank. But there was a small patio, where we’d head with our wine, bread, and cheese, and a deck of cards. Before handing over the keys, the couple gave us a tour of the town, pointing out all the essentials: the pasticceria, the gelateria, the forno or bakery, and best of all, the Lemon Garden, the pizzeria that became our hangout. Among the four of us, we put away about 30 pies there and (for the adults) almost as many limoncellos, the local liqueur made with the area’s famed lemons.
Ah, Amalfi! It wasn’t easy getting there - from Rome, we took two trains and two buses - but the final bus ride along the coast was breathtaking. Our heads kept swivelling right to left, alternating sweeping ocean vistas with craggy mountain views. Charming beach and hill towns spread out in front of us and every other cliff seemed to bear the imposing remains of pirate towers, fortresses, or monasteries.
