Apartments in Florence, Perugia, Rome, Sorrento and Positano

About FURORE

Furore is a rugged village that like so many around these parts lacks a centre. But it does have some unexpected bits of modern sculpture and murals, part of a laudable municipal attempt to make the place known for something other than being isolated, and it also produces the Amalfi coast's best wine. To sample it, head for the Gran Furor Divina Costiera winery which also goes under the name of its owner, Marisa Cuomo. From precarious vineyards on steep slopes come the grapes that go into the six wines produced here, the best of which are the white Furore Fiord’uva cru, and the red  Furore Riserva. Furore also does a small trade in prickly pears, fichi d’India in Italian, and tiny cherry tomatoes (pomodorini a piennolo). Beyond Furore, the road snakes up to the ridge in a series of intestinal curves before spilling out into the upland plain of Agerola, an entirely unexpected collection of agricultural settlements, cut off by the rugged terrain both from the Costiera below and from the Vesuvian plain beyond. Though the coast sells itself as a fertile Garden of Eden, it is Agerola that actually produces most of the fruit, vegetables, cheese and meat that end up in swanky Amalfi restaurants; the local mozzarella is especially famous. Its small-scale textile workshops also act as sweatshops for Positano’s glamorous boutiques. The only visitors that Agerola usually sees are elderly Neapolitans, who come here for the summer cool, and the occasional walker . In Campania, miracles happen every day, or at least every week. The blood of San Gennaro  is only the most famous example of the many vials of congealed, saintly blood across the South whose contents become liquid at regular intervals. Another such miracle occurs every July 27 in Ravello, in the cathedral named after St Pantaleone. The blood of the martyr, decapitated by Roman emperor Maximillian in 325, is said to have been collected in a jar by a pious bystander. It now electrifies the faithful by allegedly turning to liquid on the anniversary of his death. Instead of blood, the inhabitants of Amalfi prefer the heavenly nectar manna, and the rocky sarcophagus of their patron saint readily obliges. St Andrew was a fisherman, martyred by crucifixion under Nero around 60 AD, and subsequently venerated as a patron saint by a host of countries, from Scotland to Russia. His embalmed remains were shipped to Constantinople in 357, but, like many holy corpses once held in Byzantium, Andrew’s remains were looted during the Crusades and brought back to Italy. Now housed in a crypt in Amalfi’s  Moorish, Norman style cathedral , the apostle's body exudes a substance which, while termed ‘manna’, is actually a plant extract that is also said to be the saint‘s sweat. The miracle occurs twice a year: on 30 November, the anniversary of his death; and 27 June, when the saint is said to have  saved the city from an attack by the dread pirate, Barbarossa.  In memory of that day, when a swirling tempest foiled the pirate's plans, men in white carry a statue of the saint down to the waterfront, where it is greeted with offerings of fish. But the real show is back at the crypt, where the faithful await an offering from the saint. The manna is greedily collected; the particularly pious drink it as it is said to have curative properties. If, on the other hand, no manna materialises, the saint is clearly upset, and bad things are bound to happen. Fortunately for the amalfitani, Andrew rarely lets them down.