After our serendipitous Calabrian encounter we headed north into Campania, the region that contains Naples, Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast as some of its more renowned landmarks. For those who are unfamiliar with Italian geography (which TBH included us before this trip) here’s a handy map of the regions snapped from a cheese advert in an upmarket pannini establishment.

Did you know Campania is also home to Mozzarella di Bufala – and that Bufala does indeed signify that the milk comes from Water Buffalo?

We weren’t here for the cheese, or the culture, of course. We had a couple of days of a weather window before rain was due to roll in from the west, and a couple of interesting crags to potentially make use of it.

Camerota is a picturesque hilltop town with distant views to the Tyrrhenian Sea. Parking by the police station (never felt safer leaving the van!)…

… it’s not at all obvious that there’s a crag nestling out of sight beneath. Indeed it takes a leap of faith to follow the overgrown path past a rickety shack for a first glimpse of rock and a better path looping under the crag. Somewhat incongruously, this ends up with a post and rope handrail and even floodlights!

It’s a pretty impressive chunk of tufa-plastered limestone, with a magnificent outlook.

The natural solar collector and southerly aspect made for intolerably toasty conditions, even in early March, and combined with the stumpy routes (mostly around 10 – 15m) and stiff grades, it was never going to be an ego inflating afternoon. Just as well we only had time for a quick hit. Splatter, 5c+, was all that you could ask for from an entry-level tufa tussle, and quite a warm up!

La Tabbacchera, 6c, turned into an aid extravaganza at around this point…

Helen made a better job of Cippappa, 5b

Palinuro was the crag that we’d come for, with a couple of web pics conjuring up a vision of climbing in Thailand. Winding down from Camerota, you hit the coast road and get your first sight of this impressive crag across the bay.

There are a couple of conflicting access descriptions and we went with the guidebook which advised parking before a gate near the entrance to Castello di Molpa. The gate itself has a “private property” sign, but also a very well-worn path around it, which leads down to the beach, from which a small path leads over a neck of land, past a crumbling fortification, and onto the beach beneath the crag. What a spot!

We bumped into an Italian from Liguria with his German partner, and they were equally blown away. Wow! We’d arrived as she was halfway up a stupendous-looking line:

… and then had them gushing with excitement when they recommended it: “Unbelievable, it’s 6a+ (that’s six, not seven!)”

Without paying very close attention I managed to sandbag myself on what later materialised to be Il Koala, 6b+, also brilliant but a pretty stiff warm-up.

Once I realised the error of my ways, Svulazz Svulazz fully lived up to the hype. Get a load of those tufas…

After a ste-ee-p start, things ease off into 30m of gently leaning juggy joy, with a tricky move towards the end to keep you on your toes.

Eat your heart out, Tonsai!

The tufa fun extends into the 5s – here’s Helen on Il Tenente Colombo, 5b+

There’s also a more amenable slab/wall sector including a bunch of 5s, of which Mare Forza 10, 5c, was maybe the pick.

A word of warning – just because it’s the Med doesn’t mean it isn’t tidal – while the range might be less than a foot, it equates to a couple of metres of beach. Time your visit or be prepared for some very gentle paddling and a potentially wet rope.

This is yet another area which is devoid of camping options in the off season. We stayed in a vineyard – Azienda Agricola Donna Clara – free camping with the understanding that you might buy some produce (or free wine at a reasonably priced campsite – take your pick!)