Think Positano on the Amalfi coast

Just three hours from grey London is a land of Campari sodas on sun- dappled terraces; pink bougainvillea- draped hilltop villages and sleek Riva motorboats cleaving through a turquoise sea. The Amalfi coast. Bliss beyond compare.

My boyfriend and I landed in Naples as the sun was setting on a warm Friday evening and the light lasted just long enough for us to enjoy the awesome views of Mount Vesuvius as we drove along the coast, through charming little villages and cliff-top chicanes, to Positano, the most delightful of Amalfi's coastal towns, all chalky white houses and narrow thoroughfares twisting down to the colourful fishing port.

We were staying at the swanky Le Sirenuse Hotel, which exudes luxury from the moment you step through its rarefied entrance, decked out with elegant antiques (this was once the private home of the noble Sersale family) and extravagant chandeliers. The writer John Steinbeck described Le Sirenuse as a 'dream place', and he was right.

But the best thing about Le Sirenuse is the view. Our room had a little balcony from where we could rest our weary eyes on the endless blue of the sea, the breast-shaped majolica-tiled dome of the cathedral - Positano's trademark - and, further in the distance, Li Galli island, once owned by Rudolf Nureyev... I couldn't have been be happier.

We changed into white trousers and stripey tops and a Campari aperitivo got us in the mood for dinner - a 20-minute walk down to the beach-side La Cambusa restaurant, where we sat on the terrace for spaghetti vongole and a bottle of the local Falanghina white wine.

We began the next morning in the way that all indolent Italians, from the Roman emperors on, do - with a massage. The hotel has a new state-of-the-art Aveda spa designed by the celebrated architect Gae Aulenti and I enjoyed the intensity of the hydrotherm massage. Oiled and buffed, we went for a stroll down the wide main steps to browse in numerous little shops selling corals, linens, and the tan leather sandals that Positano is so well known for. The town is a warren of tiny streets and staircases, all fringed by artfully trimmed lemon trees, which makes it feel a bit like being in a private garden. Of course I couldn't resist a quick sneak into the imposing 13th-century cathedral, Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta, so white and calm that it makes one yearn, momentarily, for the monastic life. Quickly putting these dreams aside, I paid my respects to the beautiful black Madonna icon that commands the altar. That would make my mother happy, I thought.

A trip on a shiny Riva speedboat was the perfect complement to my outfit for the day - a Tom Ripley-inspired ensemble of blue polo shirt, seersucker shorts and Borsalino Panama - and I felt suitably cinematic as we sped around the rocks of the bay, seeking ever more picturesque views of Positano.

Back in the boutiques, it was time for some proper shopping: from Raphael's, paisley-printed cotton shorts for us and some colourful bikinis for our sisters (the cotton swimsuits are a Positano trademark); a linen scarf from the chic Idillio; and some window shopping at Antonello dalla Mura with its Puccis, Vallis, and Missonis - perfect labels for a glamorous long weekend in the spring sun.

Back to Le Sirenuse's terrace for more aperitivi under a pergola plaited with white jasmine flowers, and a delightful conversation with Antonio Sersale, whose family have been running the hotel for the last 60 years, entertaining everyone from Hollywood stars to the most demanding of international fashion designers.

Sunday was for the beach, and we decided to take the hotel lift down to the pebbled shore. We enjoyed the last hours of sun, a little splash in the sea and a hot takeaway margherita pizza, eaten as we sat in old-fashioned orange-and-green deck chairs. Before leaving, I made sure to gather as many of the hotel's citrussy Eau d'Italie toiletries as possible, so that I might be able to bring a little of Positano's magic back to my Notting Hill flat.