Crossing the threshold to a hidden forest by the sea
There’s a gate that allows access to the private area of Licosa, part of the city of Castellabate, about 70 kilometres from Salerno. Being brave — or lucky — enough to trespass, despite the daily changing laws that regulate access, one can then enter a dense forest of maquis. During the summer, Aleppo pines appear almost fluorescent.
Following a path down to the sea level, the landscape becomes dramatically calm — especially when compared to the nearby beaches, where Italian social beach life expresses its peculiar vocal and visual intensity.
The cliffs are shaped by the Flysch del Cilento, a rare stratification of sandstone and clay that gives the rocks their distinctive, variegated colours. This area is part of the Santa Maria di Castellabate Marine Protected Area, where boat access and anchoring are strictly regulated to protect the seabed. The same tension between preservation and pressure shows up elsewhere I have photographed, especially in the Campania region, such as Baia di Ieranto, where motorboats are banned entirely.
Italian coasts, especially in summer, are where social life takes up the most space. The shoreline becomes an observatory of collective behaviour. But Italy is also a country where coastal problems and crimes — illegal construction, pollution, the pressure of mass tourism — are significant.
Licosa, Castellabate (Salerno), Campania, Italy. Part of the Italian Seascapes series. Photography by Giovanni Ambrosio, 2025.
