I’ve just touched down in dreary, soggy London – back from a heavenly getaway in sun-drenched Amalfi, staying at Hotel Santa Caterina. Nestled into a cliffside, the property is surrounded by tumbling terraced gardens, fragrant Sfusato Amalfitano lemon groves, and peerless views of the ever-sparkling Mediterranean Sea.
Its crisp, white interior is dotted with antiques and brightened by hand-painted majolica floors and patterned fabrics. A staggering glass-fronted lift transports guests down to the hotel’s pièce de résistance: a seaside pool that looks straight out of a Slim Aarons photograph, where spaghetti alle vongole and St-Germain spritzes can be enjoyed on sun loungers.
