Postcards from Procida
Lazy days spent wandering the colorful alleyways of one of the best islands for doing absolutely nothing.
I’ve been meaning to get around to writing about Procida after having gone a few weeks ago in early June. Between procrastinating on packing before we head to Ischia for a few days and my 14-month-old’s afternoon nap slot, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a better-late-than-never type of post!
Living in Naples, we never run short of beaches, islands, and water activities to choose from. Our neighbors are Capri, Ischia, and Procida, which makes living here feel like an opportunity to always find an excuse for a long and lazy weekend. So, one day, we did just that. My mom was visiting from the States, my Neapolitan partner Paolo grew up going to Ischia never scratching the Procida surface, and we all knew getting to Procida would be laughably easy—so it seemed like the perfect early summer escape.
There’s no hop-skip-jump like the journey from Naples to Positano or some other major city further up the boot. It’s as easy as taking ferry from one of the two ports (Naples Beverello or Calata Porta di Massa), and within 35 minutes, you’re at Procida’s dock. There are no barbaric queues like the ferry to Capri and no intimidating groups of Neapolitans speaking strictly dialect, aggressively ready to board for a weekend of Ischitana fun.
P.S. If you are island hoping anytime you’re in Italy, I love using this website/app called Ferry Hopper for timetables and purchasing tickets.
On island time
I would still say Procida is one of Italy’s best-kept secrets. Then again, writing about and traveling to Procida is really nothing new or groundbreaking—so maybe it’s not that much of a secret. Despite its beauty, it still doesn’t attract the same crowds as neighboring islands and Amalfi Coast towns. Not to say there aren’t any tourists—by the time noon rolls around, you’ll see plenty lounging at the local port—but after a few steps along a side street, you’ll feel like you have the entire island to yourself shared with the locals.
The vibe of the island? Charming, chill, relaxing, authentically beautiful and local. Small, intimate, lazy. It’s one of those places that feels (and is) liberatingly stress-free. There are neither no big 5-star hotels nor the pressure to dress to the nines for an overpriced apero. The island is tiny, just 4.1 square kilometers (1.6 square miles), so it’s ridiculously easy to get to know inside and out with just a few days on your hands. It’s the best place to go if you want your biggest stress to be choosing which beach to visit or what cocktail to order from the corner bar, which, to me, is pure bliss!
I knew I was in the right place when the first local I saw was wearing a matching white v-neck t-shirt and gauze-like Capri pants, riding a vintage white Vespa, with a fresh pair of all-wooden cognac clogs. It just felt right.
A walk around town
The best way to explore the island (IMO) is to simply wander aimlessly. Right off the boat, we stopped at the first coffee shop we could find to try Procida’s specialty dolce called la lingua—a flat, extra-flaky pastry filled with a lemony cream. We headed towards Marina Corricella, the island’s most ancient fishing cove, known for its iconic pastel homes, fishing nets, and rickety boats. There is the observation deck Panoramica sulla Corricella, which offers a bird’s-eye view over the entire marina. I have heard amazing things about touring Palazzo d'Avalos and the Abbey of San Michele—a former prison that offers insight into the island’s past.
Take a dip (or two or three)
Procida’s rugged coastline is home to quaint and no-fuss beach spots—both private clubs and free beaches—usually neighboring one another. We headed to Spiaggia della Chiaia, about a ten-minute walk or so from Marina Corricella. It’s a long stretch of sandy beach with a handful of both private and public to choose from.
Warning: There are A LOT of hills and A LOT of stairs. Spiaggia via dei Bagni is at the first leg of the beach stretch, where you can rent beach chairs and umbrellas for about €15 per person. There isn’t a restaurant, but there’s a snack bar with drinks, chips, coffee, etc, which, sometimes just hits the spot—snacking my way through lunch on the beach every now and then.
On the other side of Spiaggia della Chiaia is Lido la Conchiglia, another laid-back beach club with a chicly shabby seafood restaurant that’s absolutely worth checking out. We didn’t make it to Lido della Lingua located on another side of the island, but it is on my radar for the next visit.
Take-home souvenirs
Procida isn’t exactly decked out with high-end boutiques like glitzy-glam neighbor Capri (check out my shopping guide here), but along the main drag of town on Via Vittorio Emanuele, I found so many cute artisanal shops I obviously had to step into. Maccarìa really caught me eye—they had beautiful ceramics, jewelry, art, and other trinkets that reflected the entire vibe of the island.
Looking for more low-key Italian coastal adventures? I love this ceramic heaven on the the Amalfi Coast called Vietri sul Mare.
I am ashamed to admit I’d never even heard of Procida, but now it’s on my list. Growing up we went to Giglio every summer as we knew someone with a house we could borrow so I have a deep love for Italian islands in the summer (and even more in the off season!)
I visited Procida a few years ago and it’s so cute and laidback. Thanks for taking me back there virtually