A suite over the Faraglioni
White vaults, majolica floors, and the rocks in your window from the first coffee to the last negroni.
Capri·Anacapri·The blue
Capri belongs to whoever is still there when the last ferry leaves.
By day, the island is borrowed by thousands. By six in the evening it is returned — to the residents, the lemon trees, and the handful of travellers who thought to sleep there. This sketch is built entirely around that handover: mornings on the water before the day boats arrive, afternoons in the high, quiet parts of Anacapri, and the piazzetta at night, when it becomes a village square again.
Five nights, because the island only shows itself to people who aren’t leaving at five.
This is a sketch, not a package. Dates, pace, houses and tables all bend around who’s travelling — no two versions of this journey have ever left the studio the same.
A private launch from Naples — twenty-five minutes of spray and anticipation — lands you at Marina Grande as the day visitors begin to drain away. Funicular up, suite with the Faraglioni framed in the window, and the piazzetta for a first drink as it exhales into evening.
A wooden gozzo with a skipper who grew up in Marina Grande takes you the whole way round: the Blue Grotto entered early by rowboat, the green and white grottoes after it, a swim through the Faraglioni arch — good luck, tradition says — and lunch dropped anchor off a cove nobody names.
Up to Anacapri, where Capri keeps its memory: Villa San Michele and its sphinx, the chairlift floating you alone over vineyards to Monte Solaro — the whole bay at your feet — and a sandal-maker who has measured famous ankles since the sixties. Sunset from the Punta Carena lighthouse, aperitivo on the rocks.
Nothing before noon, on principle. A reserved day-bed at a beach club under the Faraglioni, lunch in your robe, a spa hour if the sea worked your shoulders. Late afternoon: the boutiques, a custom scent blended in a workshop that has perfumed the island since 1948.
The Gardens of Augustus early, Via Krupp zig-zagging into the blue below, and a final unhurried walk to the Belvedere of Tragara — the Faraglioni doing their best work in morning light. Farewell dinner high over the sea; the launch home is tomorrow, and the island knows it.
White vaults, majolica floors, and the rocks in your window from the first coffee to the last negroni.
For travellers who prefer birdsong to people-watching: vine pergolas, a pool in the lemons, the lighthouse road below.
Houses are named in your proposal — we hold allocations at a handful of properties we know room by room.
Private launch crossings both ways and porters at every step — the island’s stairs are someone else’s problem.
A skipper from Marina Grande, a perfumer, a sandal-maker — people we’d invite to dinner.
Beach clubs, terraces and the piazzetta’s best hours — held in your name before you land.
One WhatsApp thread, answered by a person in Rome, for anything — from sea state to a fourth seat at dinner.
A single itinerary designer from first sketch to the flight home — no handovers, no call centres.
Grottoes at opening, gardens before the ferries, dinners after them — the island’s tides of people, surfed.
Tell us who’s travelling and what you’d change. A first, itemized proposal comes back within 48 hours — built once, for you.
Prepares a draft in your own mail client — nothing is sent automatically.
Or directly: info@motivation.it · +39 06 7045 3905