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Forty-eight hours is an insult to Positano, and I mean that lovingly. This is a town engineered for three-hour lunches, sunset Negronis that quietly become dinner, and boats standing in for taxis — so doing it right in a weekend means picking your battles: Le Sirenuse or Villa Treville for the bed, Arienzo Beach Club for the long, boozy swim, La Sponda for the candlelit dinner you’ll be describing to strangers for the next decade. Friends ask me some version of this itinerary before…
