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POSITANO HOTEL LE SIRENUSE
Positano has just one street, and it is one-way. As I went down and down and round and round, I was glad that I was in a tiny hire car rather than the Royce. What the Silver Cloud would have made of this gradient and these bends, I shuddered to imagine. Eventually, the road began to rise, and 50 yards later my destination was on my right. I pulled into the space in front of the glass doors, and a porter rushed out to deal with my luggage and whisk away the motor. Then it was straight into my sort of world. For as soon as you enter Le Sirenuse, you are surrounded by pristine white walls, antique furniture and fine oil paintings. This 18 th century house was once the summer home of the Marchesi Sersale. His descendants turned it into an hotel in 1951, and have subsequently expanded the property to its present size (of 62 rooms). Antonio Sersale is now the General Manager. Everywhere I looked I found evidence of exquisite good taste. In the hall, an 18 th century sedan chair rests close to the reception desk, which itself dates from the 17 th century and was once part of a church vestry. When, later, I wandered into the bar, I found that the attractive counter had been a goldsmith’s work bench in 17 th century Naples. Such pieces – and there are many more – have helped to create the atmosphere of civilized and luxurious comfort which has proved much to the taste of previous guests like Princess Margaret, John Steinbeck and Danny de Vito.
I judged the bed/sitting room to measure 16 feet by 26 feet. This spacious chamber easily accommodated a three-seat sofa and two easy chairs. I approved of the white ceramic floor tiles, which turned to a patterned variety to define the sitting area. Against the white walls splashes of colour came from a dark red hanging of Arabic appearance, from two pole fire-screens and from the gleaming, honey-brown veneers of a tall writing cabinet, made in the Biedermeier style. Two wall lights and four table lamps provided restful lighting. Needless to say, the air conditioning was quiet and effective, and the bed linen was of the highest quality. I stepped through the French window onto my balcony. To call what was set before me simply ‘a view’ seems inadequate. To my right, Positano was about its gravity-defiance. Below, the yellow and green tiles of the Cathedral dome glinted in the sunshine. Ahead, the Mediterranean basked in its deepest blue. And there, to set off the scene, was a small island off the headland. Was this where The Sirens (Le Sirenuse of the hotel’s name) would sing to lure sailors to their doom? I thought of Ulysses, tied to the mast, as his companions – their ears stopped against the ladies’ song – rowed him past, so that he could have all the fun while they did all the work. Gazing from my vantage-point, I could almost believe the fiction was true. It was not easy to leave my room and its view. But the latter was there over breakfast in the dining room, the Ristorante La Sponda (‘The Corner’). From the buffet I composed each morning a most excellent start to the day: Rice Crispies, slices of grapefruit, apple and pear, orange juice and bacon with scrambled egg. All very good, and washed down with coffee from the silver pots brought by the friendly waiters. I am not usually a fan of tart so early, but the one here – of blueberries, raspberries and red currants – was too good to miss. Each day I yielded to its siren call.
Waiters in white jackets with epaulettes glided this way and that. My fellow diners looked contented. And so was I – for not only was the Assistant Maitre d’, Giuseppe Irace, looking after me very well indeed, but also I was finding the food from chef Alberto Citterio’s kitchen highly enjoyable. Pumpkin and pistachio ‘pie’ with mozzarella fondue had the consistency of a warm soufflé and was light and delicate of taste. Scialatielli (a local pasta of thick strips) with steamed vegetables and cheese arrived in a silver dish and was plated next to the table. Then came the highlight of the meal: a grilled veal chop with new potatoes and artichokes – a really tender and tasty piece of meat. I ended with a bowl of strawberries, with mint and chocolate. (84 euros for these four courses.)
My white was made from a local grape, lacryma Christi, and was light and elegant with a typical hint of sherbet (Mastroberadino, 2003 – 23 euros). My red was in a different league altogether. I have seen the attractive, star-emblazoned bottle of Luce (Frescobaldi) before, but this was my first tasting of this Tuscan combination of sangiovese and cabernet. This 1996 vintage was thrilling – superbly smooth, complex, long and with a seductive marriage of red and black fruits. It put me in mind of that great 2 nd growth claret, Pichon Lalande. I congratulate Le Sirenuse for offering this marvellous wine for the bargain price of 125 euros. Indeed, I congratulate this whole establishment for offering world-class hospitality in this idyllic setting. Positano is every traveller’s dream. And so is the Hotel Le Sirenuse. |
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ADDRESSES
LE SIRENUSE
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© Francis Bown 2003
Positano is every traveller’s dream of an Italian village by the sea. If Isaac Newton had paid a visit before he sat under his tree, he might well have dismissed the famous falling apple as no more than a trifling irritation. For at Positano gravity has been suspended. How else do its pretty, painted houses, piled one on top of the other, remain clinging to the cliff face – rather than rush straight down into the sea? And there, halfway down the slope, right in the middle of this eccentric and delightful jumble, is one of the loveliest hotels in Italy – Le Sirenuse.
Room 71 (a junior suite, and therefore 550 to 1,000 euros a night, bed and breakfast for two, according to season) was certainly to my taste. In every respect, it was spotless and immaculately maintained. Through the door was a hallway, with fitted wardrobes and a private safe. To the left was the bathroom, clad with large slabs of white marble. It offered a separate shower room, a bidet and a tub with a jacuzzi mechanism. Here the towels were large and white and plentiful, and the toiletries were scented with the hotel’s own perfume, Eau d’Italie. 
When I returned to La Sponda for dinner, it had been transformed. The whole room, which is of a fair size, twinkled with candles. I asked the admirable maitre d’, Vincenzo Galani, how many there were. His answer was 420. They take an hour and a half to light, but the effort is worth it – for the resulting atmosphere is utterly charming. As two guitarists played the theme from The Third Man, I admired the turquoise floor tiles and the plants growing up the white walls. Such beautiful surroundings always stimulate my appetite.
Splendid waiter Daniele di Palma turned out to have been born in Clapham. He was highly informative on the wine and helped with my choices. The list has about 200 offerings and, apart from the champagne, is entirely Italian. Its arrangement is commendable. Each section displays the available whites and reds from one area, with a map of Italy showing the location of the region in question. I found this clear and helpful. Prices range from 22 euros for a local white (from Campania) to 600 euros for the 1995 Brunello di Montalcino Riserva from Biondi Santi.