How to Do Ischia Ponte, Capri’s Lesser-Known Neighbor
At the west end of the Gulf of Naples, the Italian island of Ischia has always been the anti-Capri—which is exactly the reason to go.

I suspect most Americans have a Talented Mr. Ripley moment the first time they visit the Italian island of Ischia. Mine happened as the hydrofoil from Sorrento sped past the ancient fortification of Castello Aragonese. Clinging to a massive rock shearing up from the glassy Tyrrhenian Sea, the late-medieval castle complex is connected to Ischia by a 700-foot-long stone causeway built about 575 years ago. At its other end is a town of crumbling palazzi and listing fisherman’s houses in faded pink or sun-bleached yellow—a dense labyrinth of right angles and arches washed in sugary hues. As the striped sun loungers along its narrow beach came into focus, recognition hit: Hey, that’s Mongibello! The novelist Patricia Highsmith, whose best seller Ripley was published in 1955, imagined “Mongi”—where her protagonist Tom Ripley fell for the insouciant dolce far niente lifestyle of his wealthy schoolmate Dickie Greenleaf—as a timeless Anyplace south of Naples. Ischia Ponte, as this pleasantly askew little harbor town is called, stood in for Mongibello in both screen adaptations of Highsmith’s novel. (Alain Delon and Matt Damon prowled its narrow cobblestone lanes as Ripley in 1960 and 1999, respectively.)
That these films might be the primary (or even lone) reference many Americans have for the 18-square-mile island in the Gulf of Naples is likely because Ischia has long existed in the shadow of a far more glamorous sibling: Capri. Part of the same archipelago, the two islands share commonalities, located as they are just a few miles from each other. Both were favored idylls of the ancient Romans, but only one still attracts a significant share of that city’s monied classes (hint: not Ischia). Both are heavily touristed in July and August, but only one sees Italian remain the ascendant language above English—and Russian—all summer (that’s Ischia). Capri’s outsize commercial and material offerings belie its tiny, definitively contained dimensions: It has just two main centers, Capri Town and Anacapri. Its beaches are few, rocky, dauntingly exclusive, and extravagantly expensive.
Ischia is easily four times Capri’s size, with six municipalities and a wooded interior that’s large enough to have cultivated its own cuisine style, one that skews far more terra than mare. (Its best-known dish, coniglio all’Ischitana, is a pared-down, piquant rabbit stew.) It’s flatter, broader, a bit rougher, and far more developed than Capri, with towns and villas proliferating haphazardly, and not always prettily, across its hills, amid the oleander and bougainvillea that flourish in unmanicured splendor. Its beaches, unlike Capri’s, are plentiful: wide, often sandy—and never, in the island’s history, remotely exclusive.
Counterintuitive though it may seem, herein lies Ischia’s appeal. When I told my friend Francesco—a bourgeois Roman, raised in the States and Italy—that I was headed to Ischia, his eyebrows shot skyward in amused disbelief. “Ischia? That’s where I went on my spring break in the ’80s.” Well, yes, exactly. Gilded Capri’s spotlight has, in a way, been Ischia’s salvation. It is a throwback paradigm, a place where families from Naples or Salerno still come to the same villas, the same apartments, the same breeze-stirred beaches that their nonno (and possibly his nonno) played on as a toddler. It’s an iteration of southern Italy, whose rough edges remain in some places alluringly unsmoothed.
While it’s not fabulous—there’s no supermodel-studded queue for spaghetti alle vongole, no Missoni, no Eres, no sandal maker once favored by Jackie Onassis—it’s not without refinements, which are made perhaps more intriguing by their relative obscurity. The exquisite gardens at La Mortella, for instance, planted in the 1950s by Ischia’s most venerable expats, the British composer William Walton and his Argentine wife, Susana. Lush, varied, and almost never crowded, they tumble picturesquely down a steep grade overlooking the blue bowl of the Bay of Chiaia. Or the island’s wines—especially the whites, floral and delicate, some of which enjoy international esteem. Gelasio Gaetani d’Aragona Lovatelli, the wine consultant and impossibly glamorous Roman-about-town who cocreated the International Wine Academy for Rome’s Hassler hotel, extols the virtues of island producers like Pietratorcia and Casa d’Ambra. “Ischia is not a place you can get the measure of in two days, like Capri. You could spend a week and not know all of it,” he says. “It’s not at all mondano”—worldly—“but it has so much charm.”
Here, our tips for where to stay, eat, drink, and more on the island.

STAY: Albergo della Regina Isabella
Arguably the island’s finest hotel is located in Lacco Ameno, the most upscale of Ischia’s six main towns. The brand of old-school grandeur it trades in is patently and deliciously impervious to the vagaries of contemporary. In the bar, 19th-century tiles in cobalt and saffron clash wonderfully with midcentury chairs upholstered in fuchsia. Chocolates are still left on pillows sheathed in pressed white linen. The signage and decor at its excellent thermal spas have remained unchanged since about the mid-1960s, and as a consequence they are now achingly cool. Rooms, from $370; Piazza Santa Restituta 1, Lacco Ameno; 39-081/994-322; reginaisabella.com.

STAY: Mezzatorre Resort & Spa
The 57 rooms and suites at this stay—situated on its own promontory between Lacco Ameno and Forio—aren’t overly large, and the interiors are a bit eccentric (think abstract paintings and the occasional blackamoor). But the large pool and small beach are lovely; and thanks to its 17 acres of private grounds, tranquility reigns supreme. Rooms, from $395; Via Mezzatorre 23, Forio d’Ischia; 39-081/986-111; mezzatorre.it.

EAT: Haute Cuisine
There is the elevated and molecular, if that’s your thing, at the Regina Isabella’s own Michelin-starred Indaco, as well as at the ultracontemporary Danì Maison (Via I Traversa Montetignuso 4, Barano; 39-081/993-190; danimaison.it), in the hills above Ischia Ponte.

EAT: Seafood
Top-quality fish and a prime location just across the water from the Castello Aragonese are the USPs at Giardino Eden (Via Nuova Cartaromana 62, Ischia Ponte; 39-081/985-105; giardinoedenischia.it); a beach-chic vibe prevails at Casa Celestino (Via Chiaie di Rose 20, Serrara Fontana; 39-081/999-213; casacelestino.it), where shellfish pastas are the thing, and there’s a postcard-perfect view over Sant’Angelo. Within the walls of the Castello Aragonese itself is the gorgeously un-fancy Ristorante Il Monastero (Castello Aragonese; 39-081/992-435; albergoilmonastero.it), where a table on the terrace at sunset is a must. All the produce—squash blossoms, zucchini, tiny datterini tomatoes—comes from the monastery’s old gardens, still tended by the current owners.

EAT: Umberto a Mare
The modest restaurant in at the water’s edge in Forio, turns out fresh, elegant crudi di mare; its sleek white-on-cream terrace is positioned for truly cinematic sunsets. Via del Soccorso 2, Forio d’Ischia; 39-081/997-171; umbertoamare.it.

EAT: Il Focolare
A weirdly wonderful hillside redoubt deep in the island’s interior, vintage movie posters and majolica plates line the walls, and the menu skews to game and sausages. It also has one of the island’s best takes on coniglio all’Ischitana, a pared-down, piquant rabbit stew typical to the area. Via Cretajo al Crocifisso, Barano d’Ischia; 39-081/902-944; trattoriailfocolare.it.

EAT: La Scarrupata
Secreted away in a cove near Maronti beach, which you can reach only by sea, La Scarrupata has sand floors and plastic tables, an open grill pit, and rows of tomato plants clinging to the steep slopes above. Isolated is the descriptor that comes to mind. The menu is brief and laminated, and the food is sublimely delicious, with dishes like spaghetti dotted with fat lemon-marinated shrimp. There’s no escaping the low-fidelity mien and soul of this place. (39-368/489-084)

DRINK: Bar Calise
This spot is an Ischia institution, with five locations across the island—the buzziest are in Ischia Porto and Casamicciola. In the morning, go for the sublime sfogliatelle, and in the evening for aperitivo, served by elegantly waistcoated waiters. (barcalise.com)
Photo: Giorgio

DRINK: Wine Tastings
The canteens at Pietratorcia (Via Provinciale Panza 401; 39-081/907-232) and Casa d’Ambra (Via Mario D’Ambra 16, Forio d’Ischia; 39-081/907-246; dambravini.com) both host regular public tastings and private ones by advance appointment.

DO: Thermal Baths
The baths, which are said to number more than 100, are A Thing here, offering proven therapeutic benefits. The island’s thermal springs have been an attraction for centuries, and its bath complexes are feats of design and engineering; they’re essentially therapeutic water parks gussied up for grown-ups—among them German chancellor Angela Merkel, who has been coming to Ischia annually for years. Those considered the best—besides the newly-restored Aphrodite Apollon (Via Commandante Maddalena 29, Serrara Fontana; 39-081/999-219; miramaresearesort.it), favored by Merkel—are at Giardini Poseidon (half-day passes from $29; Via Mazzella 87, Citara; 39-081/908-7111; giardiniposeidonterme.com) and the slick Negombo (half day passes from $28; Baia di San Montano, Lacco d’Ameno; 39-081/986-152; negombo.it), where the crowd skews more 20- to 30-something, and the colorfully cheery Trattoria Casa Colonica is a local favorite.

DO: Giardini La Mortella
The exquisite gardens at La Mortella were planted in the 1950s by Ischia’s most venerable expats, the British composer William Walton and his Argentine wife, Susana. Lush, varied, and almost never crowded, they tumble picturesquely down a steep grade overlooking the blue bowl of the Bay of Chiaia. Via Francesco Calise Operaio Foriano 39, Forio d’Ischia; 39-081/986-220; lamortella.org.

DO: Villa Arbusto
Acquired by the publishing magnate (and Ischia-phile) Angelo Rizzoli in 1952, the early-19th century Villa Arbusto (Corso Rizzoli 210, Lacco Ameno; 39-081/996-103; pithecusae.it) today sequesters a tiny archeological museum and a lovely botanical garden, reminiscent of that of Villa San Michele on Capri.
Photo: Fabrizio Pivari
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