There’s no feeling in the world like waking up on the Amalfi Coast. The Bohéme Woman greets the sunrise from her terracotta balcony nestled in a cliffside of grand pastel-kissed hotels, watching the dawn illuminate the deep blue of the Mediterranean and the early-morning bathers in repose on the rocky beach. She leans against the rail, brushing her hand across the flowering green vines that crisscross the terrace railing. The late-summer figs are ripening, filling the morning air with mouthwatering juiciness. A knock at the door: room service, with fresh-baked bread slathered in sweet blackcurrant jam. The day awaits, but who would ever want to leave?