Adventures in Ecotourism

Perched on a precipice on the skirts of Agerola, I overlook the miniature marine town of Conca, a near 2000-foot plummet directly below. The burnt pink hue of the fading September sun tints the iridescent Mediterranean coastline from famous Amalfi, partially obscured by an eastern protrusion of the craggy sea cliffs, to the tip of Sorrento, now just a shadow in the distant west. Standing at the entrance to the famed Path of the Gods, once both trod and treasured by awestruck authors D.H. Lawrence and Italo Calvino, the name is implicit.

The stunning natural vista aside, one cannot overlook the flourishing agriculture. Tiered farms thrive, juxtaposed between crumbling stone villas and goats grazing the steep incline, their crops equally grape vines and vegetation. Tufts of gray smoke float skyward where responsible farmers are spot-burning dry brush, hazards left by the scorching heat of summer, adding the curious sensation of a campfire to the balmy air. Wild lemon and fig trees speckle the path, their ripe fruits hanging low, aching to be picked.

Recent ‘locally sourced’ revolutions in food culture have no place here on the Costiera Amalfitana. The small markets would never consider vending foreign produce and non-organic procedures are utterly unfathomable. Unlike its neighboring tourist towns, San Lazzaro, Agerola contains few restaurants. In their stead are Agriturismo farms.

Night descended as I warily approach Casale Paradiso, at first obscured by the horses penned out front. My trepidations are relieved upon the first sip of the chilled red wine on my lips, pressed from grapes grown feet away. Each course, from the antipasti to the succulent roasted peaches dripping in caramel, consisted of the freshest ingredients plucked that day. This was food transcended; a complete crop to table experience. I decide, as I appreciatively dig my knife into the heart of the homemade burrata, spilling its juicy contents over plump tomato slices, this is truly fine dining.