FURORE– Hidden away in the Lattari mountains high above the Amalfi Drive, the little town of Furore had a visibility problem. With celebrated neighbours like Positano, Vietri and Amalfi spread along Italy’s most spectacular coastline, few tourists ventured up the 7 kms of hairpin bends that led to a string of houses clinging like limpets to the dizzy heights. To add to its disadvantages, Furore had no central piazza where people gathered and no outstanding monuments. Its historic churches contained unsung works of art. Its history was largely undocumented. It did, however, have one outstanding feature. A thousand stone steps below, it had a fjord, unique in Italy - a deep cleft in the rocks washed by the sea, where the town’s fishermen kept their boats and stored their gear in colourful little cubical buildings known as “monazzeni”.

This all began to change at the beginning of the 1980s, when local poet and writer, Raffaele Ferraioli, became mayor. He at once began to cast around for ideas to put Furore on the map. It was he who launched the slogan of the “Paese che non c’é”, the “Never Never Town”, like Barrie’s “Never Never Land” in “Peter Pan”. Furore, in fact, seemed more magic than reality, with its precipitous terraced vineyards creeping up the mountain, its endless flights of steps and stairs, its oddly named foot paths - like the Path of the Mad Bats and the Path of the Fishing Fox, its lemon trees and pergolas, the mosaic-encrusted dome of Sant’Angelo, its bird’s nest views far over the Bay of Salerno, and its evocative name. Furore, in fact, is believed to derive from the fury of the winter waves crashing on the rocks in the narrow Fjord.

The Furore fjord was an integral part of the town, but by the first half of the 20th century it had largely been abandoned. In the past, there had been a flourishing paper mill, fed by the cascading waters of the Schianto stream that cascaded down the cliffs at the back of the cleft. The gorge had also known a brief moment of fame in 1948 when Italian film director Roberto Rossellini chose it as the backdrop for his film “L’Amore”, starring Italian actress Anna Magnani, star of Rossellini’s classic “Roma, Città Aperta” and the Hollywood production of Tennessee William’s “The Rose Tattoo”. As filming progressed, a torrid love affair developed between the two, the memory of which is still alive in Furore. Every evening, the lovers braved the thousand steps up to the only trattoria then in existence - the Bellavista Bacco, now the Bacco Hotel, but still run by the same family. The relationship ended somewhat dramatically when the fiery Anna suspected that her lover was developing an interest in the Swedish actress, Ingrid Bergman, and emptied a bowl of pasta over his head. However, the two “monazzeni” in the tiny fishermen’s hamlet in the Fjord that the couple chose as their love nest, are still standing today. The short-lived but intense relationship inspired the municipal council to create a panoramic walk winding round the headland from the medieval church of Sant’Elia entitled the Strada dell’Amore (Path of Love), embellished with ceramic panels with the works of famous poets.

During his long term of office, Ferraioli set about restoring the abandoned Fjord village and turning the ex-paper mill into a museum documenting the history of the community, while in Furore itself, he hit on the idea of creating “muri d’autore”, or walls decorated by artists. Furore was one of the first towns to join the Associazione Italiana di Paesi Dipinti (Italian Association of Painted Towns), communities that depict their history and traditions on the external walls of their houses and public buildings. The first art work Furore acquired was a sculpture entitled “La Vela” (The Sail) by Neapolitan sculptor Luigi Mazzella, which stands in front of the town hall, but over the years, a long procession of Italian and international artists have contributed to embellishing the community. To date, there are now 120 works of art on display in this meandering open air museum. Every bend in the road reveals a new surprise - a sculptured mythological figure, a gigantic mural of the grape harvest, a naif representation of peasants and folk festivals, a contemporary abstract interpretation of a historic event, glowingly coloured seascapes and flowering fields, saints, sirens and “janare”, the local white witches, who allegedly held their night rituals in the grottos of the Fjord. All the works, in fact, relate to some feature, tradition or legend connected to the Never Never Town.

The most spectacular coup, however, was the institution of the Marmeeting Mediterranean Cup High Diving contest off the bridge spanning the mouth of the Fjord. Like the famous cliff divers of La Quebrada, Acapulco, divers plunge some 28 metres into the narrow sea channel between the rocks, performing acrobatics and jack-knife dives that can reach a speed of 100 km/hour. This year marks the 25th edition of the event, which attracts specialized divers from all over the world and crowds of fans. Last year’s winner was the British Gary Hunt. Gary will be competing again this year against athletes from Australia, Mexico, the USA, Luxembourg, the Ukraine, Russia, France, Colombia.

Extreme sports are not the only challenge offered in Furore. Producing wine from strips of vineyards carved out of a virtually vertical cliff face and ranging from 100 to 620m above sea level is a feat that would daunt any vintner. However, the Cuomo family of Furore continue stubbornly to do just that. The Marisa Cuomo wine cellar is dug out of the rock face and the 160 oak barriques lie maturing in twin tunnels with five metres of solid stone and a vineyard overhead. The difficulties involved in weeding, fertilizing, pruning and harvesting in these conditions mean that all work has to be done manually. Andrea Cuomo explains that it takes, in fact, 200 working days to produce their wines. The family’s labours have earned them a place in the exclusive list of vini estremi (wines produced in extreme conditions) as well as recognition by the Slow Food organization.

Against all odds, Ferraioli has achieved many of his aims. Furore is now a thriving resort, with a total of 500 beds available in small hotels, B&Bs and the 5-star Furore Inn, complete with its own spa. The dream of transforming the picturesque fishermen’s hamlet in the Fjord into a tourist centre is still not fully completed, despite the publicity the spot receives during the cliff diving contest. The problem is accessibility. Flights of stone steps lead down into the cleft from the Amalfi Drive, but there is no parking on the road itself and most tourists flash past with barely a glimpse into the fascinating interior. Not many modern visitors are prepared, like the energetic Magnani, to brave the 1000 steps between the two hearts of Furore. Ferraioli is now seeking financing to build some means of connecting the upper town to the sea. “A probable solution might be a monorail. It wouldn’t require a huge investment.”

Meanwhile, Furore remains a little elusive, a “Never Never Town” that has to be sought out. By all accounts, Furore prefers it this way. There isn’t a single tourist shop in the entire village, nor any organized regular entertainment. With all its natural advantages, what more would one need? The local philosophy could be summed up in an inscription on the wall in the Bacco Hotel:
“Dear Friends, let’s eat and drink till the lamp has burned out. Who knows if there’s another tavern to match this one in the next world?”