Capri doesn’t ask for attention; it assumes it. Suspended between myth and modernity, this island has always understood the fine art of staging a life: where your towel lands, what you wear to lunch, who you nod to in the piazzetta. Here, time bends toward pleasure. And if you only have a day, let it unfold with the slow precision of a well-composed film.
Here’s how to do 24 hours in Capri the way it’s meant to be done — languid, polished, and just a little performative.
10:00 AM — Arrival at Il Capri Hotel
Step off the ferry and rise above the chaos. Il Capri Hotel, the island’s emblematic pink neo-Gothic landmark, is perched with quiet confidence above Marina Grande. Its interiors are a study in contrast: grand arches and high ceilings softened by raffia textures, crisp linens, and travertine-tiled calm. Drop your bags, change into linen, and head for the terrace. Breakfast isn’t rushed here: espresso, Amalfi lemon yogurt, and a glance at the sea.
12:30 PM — Beach Club Ritual at La Palma
Claim a lounger at La Palma Beach Club, the newly reimagined extension of Hotel La Palma. It’s where linen shirts stay on the body until they don’t, and where lunch begins sometime after noon and ends sometime before sunset. The crowd is Riviera-polished; part Milanese, part New Yorker, part well-traveled mystery, with a soundtrack that moves from ambient to anticipatory. Order crudo, a heaping bowl of lobster pasta, and a crisp spritz that tastes like vacation. You’re not here to swim. You’re here to stage a moment.
3:30 PM — Villa San Michele for Culture (and a View)
Trade salt spray for high altitude at Villa San Michele, Axel Munthe’s cliffside homage to light and air. It’s less museum, more mood. Bougainvillea frames marble busts, and everything smells faintly of stone, citrus, and sun-warmed history. Stand at the edge and look toward the mainland — Vesuvius in the distance, Capri’s white terraces below. You’ll forget your phone has a camera. That’s the point.
7:30 PM — Aperitivo, Then Dinner at Aurora
By evening, the streets are softly glowing and everyone is lightly sunburned and overdressed. Start with an aperitivo in the garden at Il Capri, or a negroni near the Piazzetta. When you’re ready, walk — slowly — to Aurora, Capri’s beloved institution for fashionable people who still want to eat well. There’s a buzz, but never a scene. Order the pizza all’acqua (a cult item), followed by grilled fish or pasta flecked with lemon zest. The tables are close. You’ll overhear someone planning a yacht charter. You’ll like it.
10:30 PM — Gelato at Buonocore
There’s no shame in a line at Buonocore. The waffle cones are still warm, the gelato made with a reverence for dairy, and the crowd always dressed like they might run into someone. Go for pistachio, or lemon if you’re still pretending not to eat dairy. The smell of sugar and butter in the air is enough to make you stay awhile.
Midnight — Taverna Anema e Core
This is where Capri lets its hair down after dark. Anema e Core is more than a club; it’s a rite of passage, where live music, dancing on tables, and well-dressed abandon come standard. You’ll spot regulars. You’ll become one. The tambourine might end up in your hands. And somehow, the evening will stretch into morning.
With 24 hours in Capri, you won’t see it all. But if you’ve woken up slowly, tanned a little too long, eaten something local, worn something linen, and danced under soft lighting — you’ve done it right.
