Keep the Jacqui O in Ravello

A warm wisteria-scented breeze gently sways the fruit in the terraced lemon groves clinging to the lush green hills below. It’s hard to believe that, not far away, obscured by a range of emerald knolls, coach-loads of tourists are thronging the narrow streets and alleyways of Amalfi.

Somehow, this tranquil park, manicured with violet, burnt orange and deep red impatiens, has escaped the attention of guidebook writers. Had we had the time, it would have been an idyllic spot for a picnic. As it was, we lingered only long enough to stroke the proprietorial resident tabby cat before continuing to Piazza Duomo, Ravello’s main square.

At the square, we sipped espresso at a pavement café in the shade of a towering umbrella pine, and indulged in the Italian sport of watching the world go by. I also got chatting to an elderly local. Like many of his vintage, he’d left Ravello in his youth to work in London, returning home on retirement. “Unless you wanted to work on the terraces, growing lemons or olives, there was little work for the young men in my day,” he explained.

“The Princess Diana of my day,” my new friend said wistfully. He caught glimpses of her a few times at the square. “Bellissimo,” he smiled, lost in his memories. Until then, Ravello had been a relatively well-kept secret among the wealthy and well-connected. Jacqueline Kennedy put it on the map and it hasn’t slipped off.

Just a few steps from the square we strolled into Villa Rufolo. The 13th-century villa and breathtaking gardens were restored in the 1800s by a Scottish industrialist, Francis Neville Reid.

In 1880 German composer Richard Wagner was so inspired by the beauty of the gardens they became the imagined setting for the second act of his opera, Parsifal. Proud of this link, Ravello is now the site of internationally renowned classical musical festivals.

Leaving Villa Rufolo it’s a 15-minute stroll along ancient winding back streets to the enchanting Villa Cimbrone. In 1904 Ernest William Beckett, later ennobled with the title Lord Grimthorpe, was told stories of the fading beauty of the villa and its grounds by Nicola Mansi, an Italian tailor he’d met in England. Beckett visited, fell in love with the dilapidated property and bought it. Then, with Mansi’s help, he set about an elaborate restoration project. An eclectic blend of Moorish, Venetian and Gothic architecture framed by formal English and Italian landscaping has resulted in something far greater than the sum of its parts. It’s a place of bewitching allure.

Strolling back to our hotel we paused to read the menu outside Ristorante Villa Maria, the selection made all the more tempting by the fact that the kitchen garden was just a few steps away. Zucchinis jostled for sunlight alongside stout aubergines and plump tomatoes.

Beguiling as Ravello is, it would be criminal to ignore nearby Amalfi and Positano. Just time your visits well. Get to Amalfi by 9am and out again by lunchtime and you’ll avoid the worst of the crowds.

The Hotel Caruso offers a free shuttle bus to Amalfi, an ancient maritime superpower.

If for no other reason, you should visit Amalfi to travel the sinuous vertigo-inducing road that descends to the coast. Gaudy souvenir shops compete to lure day-trippers. Spurn them and seek out the stores selling handmade paper and local antiques.

In distant times Arab traders passed the secrets of making paper on to local craftsmen. They set up mills fed by local springs and their skills have trickled down the generations.

The granddaughter of a local paper-maker, serving in one of the shops, told us there were few old craftsmen left now. For an insight into the importance of paper-making in Amalfi visit the town’s Museo Della Carta, dedicated to the craft.

Don’t miss Pasticceria Savoia. Right at the entrance to town it sells mouth-watering pastries, sweet treats and gelato. Try the chocolate-covered orange slices. If you can stop at one, you’ve got a lot more self-control than I have.

As we glided into Positano on a twinkling sea, the sheer joyfulness of the picturesque ice-cream coloured homes cascading down to the water’s edge brought a smile to my face. It really is impossibly pretty. Like Amalfi, Positano is in danger of being loved to death. Again, get there early to avoid the crowds.

For a scruff like me, it was all too much. We retired to a beachfront restaurant. After an early lunch of local squid in sweet cherry tomato sauce we left, just as ferries docked disgorging hundreds of tourists.

Back in Ravello that afternoon, I wandered the quiet geranium-lined lane ways and had them to myself. Much as I enjoyed visiting Amalfi and Positano, it is Ravello I would return to. But don’t take my recommendation. Follow one of the planet’s wealthiest men, who, when looking for somewhere peaceful, discreet and romantic to take his new bride for their honeymoon in 2012, chose Ravello and the Hotel Caruso.

I’m afraid I can’t reveal his identity. However, his initials are MZ. He co-founded one of the world’s leading on-line companies. An Oscar-winning Hollywood movie was made about his life. And unlike me, he really does have an awful lot to be smug about.