EVEN on holiday, you sometimes need a holday. When the snow refused to fall on the Italian mountains at Christmas, MICHELANGELO RUCCI followed the sun to Italy's touch of heaven on the coast.

Il Giorno del Giudizio per tutti gli amalfitani che andranno in paradiso sara un giorno come tanti altri. - Italian author Renato Fucino

IT is worth repeating first in Italian, as Fucino wrote in the 19th century. On Judgment Day, he declared, those from the Amalfi Coast who get past the pearly gates to heaven will think it is just another day - in paradise. Time - or what we sacrifice for so-called progress through time - has not changed this. And if Fucino were now scribbling somewhere in heaven, he'd probably wish he was again visiting the Costiera Amalfitana.

Along its lemon tree-lined 70km, sandwiched between the craziness of Naples to the north and the port of Salerno in the south, the Amalfi Coast is not just a place to visit once in any lifetime but as often as possible.

No surprise that the entire coast - with its rugged terrain, patchwork of colour from building to building and town to town and the nearby islands, such as Capri - is on the World Heritage list.

And there is a fair debate to be had on where is best to make base during any trip to Italy's touch of heaven. Is it Positano, with its beach where the fashionable cocktail goes down that little bit better, even while other senses are captured by the beauty of the sea and the nearby islands?

Or Amalfi, with beach and grotta smeralda, the alluring sea-level cavern that reflects dazzling green light? Or 350m above Amalfi at Ravello where long-time resident, American author Gore Vidal just might be walking through the piazza?

And then there are Scala, Praiano, Vietri sul Mare, Cetara, Maiori and Minori. Or perhaps Atrani, the smallest village in Italy.

It was once the home of the Amalfi Coast's most noble people. Today, it is overshadowed by Amalfi to the north. A large slab of rock has stopped Atrani being swallowed up by Amalfi. Those driving south from Naples along the dramatic SS 163 road that hugs the coast and cliffs reach Amalfi first and so probably never consider Atrani. Those driving north from Salerno focus on the tunnel cut in the rock outcrop and do not look right to note Atrani.

Given the narrow and winding way of the road, it is probably prudent to never look anywhere but straight ahead, regardless of how stunning the sea views become.

Atrani measures just 0.2sq km. Its population is just 942 (446 males, 496 females). It is still home to the rich English who in the 20th century sought their summer retreats in southern Italy. And it is still unaffected by mass tourism.

The snug, ever-tight and at times dangerous highway SS 163 stands on arched cloisters above Atrani's main square, Piazza Umberto I. And as the world goes by, thinking paradise is in Amafli or Positano, everyone does indeed miss heaven on earth.

Early morning and, more so, early evening, when the village finds reason to be in Piazza Umberto I before dinner is served at home about 8pm, is when the square oozes all that is Italy . . . without being tainted by the tourism rush.

The locals appear to embrace foreigners who stay at Atrani. It is as if they are suggesting they appreciate the visitor for not wanting to be a snob in Amalfi.

Under the cloisters is La Risacca, a bar that proves those near Naples do make the best cup of real coffee - and gelati - in the world. And you can sip away while checking your emails with a laptop brought to your table. (And there is none of that handing over of passports to satisfy Italy's new anti-terrorism laws that demand foreigners have their details recorded at internet cafes. Anarchy seems appropriate in paradise.)

Nearby, in the smallest imaginable space, is a general store with all the Italian delights that make for a quick picnic on the beach. Along the path to the beach are local children honing their soccer skills between the parked cars and fishing boats.

And dug into the rock outcrop is a restaurant with a wood-oven pizzeria where, for less than $10, the very large and boisterous chef will spin out a pizza to eat while sitting on the beach watching the bay become lit up by village lights.

Just remember to get a bottle of wine from the general store in the piazza where there is the obligatory fountain, another restaurant, a newsagent, another classy bar (Il Birecto), the laundry, an appealing snack bar where the chef will say he never goes anywhere on holiday. "Why would I?" he says, "I'm already in the most beautiful part of the world."

Just before dawn, it is difficult to argue with this thought. Walking through Piazza Umberto I - which is reflecting street lights given coloured bulbs for the Christmas season - to the beach offers a scene that will stay with anyone until they are called to heaven.

To the south, looking towards the bay at Salerno, the sun is rising and the fishermen are rowing out to their nets in beautifully painted wooden boats. The image makes giving up that extra hour or two in bed more than worthwhile. The next morning, well before dawn, the five-minute walk through the tunnel to Amalfi proves again that timing is everything in life.

At 6am, as the bars open with their freshly baked croissants, the street cleaners are arriving for coffee with . . . their donkeys.

So steep or narrow are the roads around the Amalfi Coast that cars cannot replace the donkey in carrying water and supplies.

And the local council workers are more than happy to stop for a photograph for those who can appreciate how their donkeys have defied time. They also make for a good chat over coffee about the never-ending saga of Italian politics.

Accommodation on the Amalfi Coast covers every base. There are five-star hotels where the rich and famous continue to have their photographs displayed; the apartments decorated with the ceramics that are famous along the Amalfi Coast; and the less grand - but probably more memorable - for those on a budget.

At Atrani, the latter is proved with La Scalinatella. It is Italy's version of Fawlty Towers - and, despite the hot water being not always reliable, the friendliness of the staff and the carefree way of this hotel-hostel makes up for anything that is missing.

The Amalfi Coast with its winding SS 163 is the place for the sports-car lover who wants to drive while constantly changing gears. But it is not great for parking. It is ideal for the walker, who can be assured no matter how much of the good pizza - or any other Italian feast - is devoured on the beach at Atrani, all can be walked off while appeasing the soul with magnificant views the next day. Particularly on the walk up to Ravello from Atrani.

The best way to move about the Amalfi Coast is with the blue SATI buses that work to a regular timetable and with very cheap fares. It cost only $2 for a bus ticket to Pompeii, 50km away. Sorrento is 35km - 90 minutes by bus - from Atrani. In the winter, when the ferries are idle, Sorrento is the port of departure for Capri.

But that journey - to a remarkable corner of paradise - is another story.