You don’t just drive from Agropoli to Ostigliano—you hang on for the ride.

We fired up our rented BMW X4 xDrive 20D around 2:05 PM and rolled out of Agropoli, the sea glinting behind us, unaware we were about to star in our own Italian car chase—minus the bad guys, but with plenty of sharp turns and dramatic scenery.

The moment we left the coast, the road narrowed like a funnel through time. Within minutes, we were deep into the hills of Campania, snaking through switchbacks that looked like they were doodled by a madman with a spaghetti fetish. This wasn’t just a drive—it was a live-action simulation of an espresso-fueled rally stage.

And what a stage it was.

Golden fields, olive groves, ancient ruins clinging to cliffs. Every turn opened up to a sweeping view or a heart-stopping moment where a tour bus might be barreling toward us around a blind corner. There were no shoulders, no guardrails—just stone walls, vertical drops, and blind curves taken on sheer faith and a prayer to Saint Ferrari.

Meanwhile, Liz—ever the co-pilot—kept gently reminding me, “Stay right, stay right,” especially when the road narrowed to single-lane width. And every time she said it, I’d instinctively inch a little farther over… sometimes just enough to keep us from grazing a medieval farmhouse or a passing Fiat by the thickness of a postcard.

We didn’t dare stop. There was nowhere to pull over and no margin for error. This was a ride that demanded your full attention, two hands on the wheel, and zero hesitation.

It was scenic, cinematic, and downright exhilarating. Liz and I were alternately gasping at the views and laughing nervously every time the road shrank to goat-path width. The X4 handled it like a champ, though I swear it was holding its breath in some of the tighter sections.

After about 75 white-knuckle minutes, we coasted into Ostigliano around 3:23 PM. The tiny hilltop village looked like something out of a dream—quiet, timeless, and deeply personal, especially knowing Liz’s great-great-grandmother once called this place home.

We stepped out of the car buzzing from the ride, hearts still thumping, grinning like two people who just survived a beautiful ambush by Italy itself.

Would we do it again? In a heartbeat. Just maybe not in a vehicle as wide as my ego.

P.S.

The drive was so exhilarating, we couldn’t resist going back a few days later—this time for dinner at the village’s one and only restaurant: I Sapori Del Cilento. It had rave reviews, and after that first visit, we were curious if the food could match the views. Spoiler alert: it absolutely did. The meal was phenomenal, the scenery from our table was straight out of a movie, and the service made us feel like long-lost locals. A perfect ending to an unforgettable adventure.

P.P.S. I’ve also published the drive on both the Porsche ROADS app and the Scenic app for anyone who wants to relive the twists, turns, and tight squeezes.