You step away from Amalfi’s seaside bustle and the town’s cobbled alleys give way to a narrow stone stair that descends toward the mouth of the Canneto. The sound changes first: gulls fade, water gardens in. A cool, fern-lined gorge breathes out mist and the path threads between ancient walls where once the mills of Amalfi ground coastal wealth into paper. For the next five hours you’ll be moving through a landscape that insists on being noticed — waterfalls daring you closer, lemon terraces reclining on the slope, and the hush of a protected forest that feels older than the town above.