Nestled in the heart of the Amalfi Coast, clinging to the rock like a crib of colorful houses, Albori is a jewel that looks like something out of a painting. This small village, a hamlet of Vietri sul Mare, is a triumph of narrow staircases, flower-lined alleys and terraces overlooking the endless blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea. One does not come here for the history, but for the excitement: to breathe in the salty air, get lost among the ceramic workshops and experience an authenticity that elsewhere is only a memory. As soon as you arrive in Albori, you realize that the only rule is to be guided by instinct. The village is a maze of narrow streets that go up and down, between walls covered in majolica and blue doorways. Every corner is a surprise: an ancient fountain, a cat dozing in the sun, a balcony overflowing with geraniums. The Church of St. John the Baptist, with its majolica-tiled dome, is the town's beacon, but the real magic lies in the details, in the cloths hung out in the wind, in the pots of lemons beside the stairs, the scents of basil and the sea. And then, the stairs. So many, so endless. Climbing them is a ritual, but each step repays with a new view: a fragment of coastline, a boat in the distance, the green of the Lattari mountains embracing the village. Albori's staircase of 400 steps is an almost mystical experience, especially at dawn, when the light caresses the facades of the houses and the silence is broken only by the sound of the waves. In Albori, life flows to the rhythm of folk festivals, where sacred and profane mingle in a whirlwind of colors and flavors. The Feast of St. John the Baptist, June 24, is the most anticipated event: the town is lit up with lights, stalls of fresh fish and traditional sweets invade the small squares, while the procession of the saint parades amid singing and fireworks exploding over the sea. Legend has it that if a couple kisses under the stars during the festival, their love will last forever. In August, the Blue Fish Festival is a tribute to seafood tradition: fried anchovies, barbecued octopus, and spaghetti with clams prepared in large copper pots by local fishermen. You eat outdoors, amidst popular music and laughter, with the background of the waves. And when Christmas comes, Albori turns into a living nativity scene, with pottery stores displaying handcrafted figurines and the alleys smelling of zeppole and mulled wine. On Christmas Eve, children wait for "'a Strina", an ancient questing song carried from house to house by local carolers. Every stone in Albori has a story to tell, often related to the sea and its mysteries. It is said that on full moon nights, 'a Sirena 'e Albori, a half-woman, half-fish creature who sings haunting melodies, appears among the rocks below the village. Old fishermen swear they have seen her combing her hair with a golden comb, while others tell of hearing her weeping over a lost love. Then there is the story of the "Treasure of the Cave of the Saints", a cave hidden among the rocks where, according to tradition, Saracen pirates allegedly hid booty. No one has ever found it, but the village children still organize "expeditions" along the coast, dreaming of chests full of coins. Lastly, one cannot leave Albori without tasting scialatielli, fresh pasta with seafood, prepared by Mrs. Maria at the trattoria "'A Paranza", or without drinking homemade limoncello, served in hand-painted ceramic glasses.