On the particular blue of the Marina Piccola in early spring.
A colour Matisse wrote about in a letter from 1911 — and which returns for eight weeks each year, then vanishes.
01An introduction
More than a villa.
A way of dwelling.
Silia was the name of the grandmother who first opened these doors to the friends of friends who arrived on the last boat from Napoli. Today the villa keeps her ritual of welcome: the bell for colazione at nine, the passeggiata at six, the long dinner on the terrace under the stars when the heat breaks.
We are not a hotel. At our small reception, we welcome guests, hand over the keys, and from there the real journey through Capri begins — with our suggestions, our stories, our advice. The rest unfolds as it should, slowly.
Every room has its own soul. Every breakfast its own character.
— Luigi Parisio, Padrone di casa
