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I was warned of the steps in Positano by John Steinbeck. He wrote of their peril in his famous essay named after the town on ������ý’s Amalfi Coast. I was reminded of Steinbeck’s caution by Liliana, a third-generation Positano hotelier who I was on my way to visit. “Remember not to take the steps,” she texted as the passenger ferry approached the ancient village, a miracle of alabaster and pastel facades that ascended from the beachfront up the mountain face like architectural ivy.