CAPRI WITHOUT THE CROWDS: WHY THE BEST TIME IS WHEN EVERYONE HAS ALREADY LEFT

There is a Capri for the photographs and a Capri for those who know. The second opens when the first closes.

Capri in August is one thing. Capri in May or September is something else entirely. The island is the same, the Faraglioni still rise from the sea as they always have, but the noise drops, the light softens, and the island is given back what makes it truly rare: time.

The Piazzetta before the world. They call it the drawing room of the world, and at the close of day it fills. But early in the morning, before the boats arrive, the Piazzetta of Capri is only a small square with four cafés and the light coming in from the side. This is the hour of those who know. A coffee, a newspaper, the dark glasses still to be put on.

La Fontelina, at the foot of the Faraglioni. There is no road to La Fontelina. There is a path along the cliff and a boat back, and the most turquoise water on the whole island. It is the beach club that gave its name to the Fontelina necklace, that strand of white shells that seems made for a swim before lunch on the rocks. Out of season, you have it almost to yourself.

Marina Piccola and the song of the sea. In the thirties, the singer Gracie Fields built La Canzone del Mare here, and Capri came to have its song of the sea. It is one of those places where history and the present overlap effortlessly. The Canzone necklace and earrings were born of exactly that easy romance, of a red heart among white and blue beads.

Via Krupp, the path that descends to the sea. Perhaps the most beautiful road in Capri is not a road for cars at all, but the white zigzag of the Via Krupp winding down the cliff to Marina Piccola. To walk it slowly, in the late afternoon, is to understand why the island held emperors and writers captive for two thousand years.

To travel out of season is not a saving. It is a decision of identity. It is to prefer the island to the crowd, time to the photograph, the experience to the postmark. It is to wear a blue swimsuit like the Capri not for the camera, but for the Grotta Azzurra you have, for once, all to yourself.Sofia Godinho