The gnocchi alla sorrentina rustled up at this little spot is so good, you very well may not want it to come to an end. Creamy and cooked in a rich tomato sauce, this Campania special is something else. Top it all off with some live music in the background: if this isn't the perfect Italian-esque evening we're not sure what is. 

The Fiorentino family has owned this clifftop grande dame since 1834 – and despite countless offers to sell, they’ve maintained every detail meticulously. There are hand-painted frescoed ceilings and suites named after the royals and artists who slept in them (the Caruso Suite is among the most coveted). The main terrace, lined with marble busts overlooking Vesuvius, is where white-jacketed staff wheel the Negroni trolley.

This pretty spot was founded in 1868 by Antonino Ercolano who learnt to cook in the archbishop’s palace kitchen and so earnt the nickname o’parrucchiano, or parish priest in Neapolitan dialect. Sorrento’s oldest restaurant was the first in Campania to open inside a lemon grove, and the setting remains magical: tables tucked into green alcoves beneath a canopy of fruit-laden branches, thousands of tiny lights overhead.

Down in Sorrento’s ancient fishing quarter, Marina Grande, this laid-back beach club and restaurant sits on a platform jutting straight over the water. Sunloungers run at around €20 each, with Vesuvius and the Bay of Naples as the backdrop. Order the Caprese for lunch and then stay until sunset, when the restaurant clicks into gear with bowls of sautéed clams.