
One of our favorite hotels on the planet, Le Sirenuse is practically synonymous with Positano—more than a hotel, it’s an institution that helped transform the rugged Amalfi Coast outpost with no running water into a glamorous holiday destination. It began in 1951 when four Neapolitan siblings—Anna, Aldo, Paolo, and Franco Sersale—converted their 18th-century family villa in Positano into a small hotel with just eight rooms. Nobel laureate John Steinbeck stayed the following year and gushed, “Every room has its little balcony and looks out over the blue sea to the island of the Sirens from which those ladies sang so sweetly.” Over the years, the family grew it to 58 rooms, collaborating with local makers and collecting objects from across Europe that gradually became part of the hotel’s identity: a lived-in luxury that feels personal rather than flashy.
Its current steward, third-generation Antonio Sersale (son of Franco), is devoted to upholding its intimate, family-led character. His wife, Carla, oversees the Emporio Sirenuse fashion and homeware collection. And the couple’s two sons, Aldo and Francesco, have recently joined the fold, bringing subtle but impactful upgrades, like a listening bar inspired by Japanese “ongaku kissa.” The team have just opened the glittering Le Sirenuse Mare beach club, in a fishing village a few miles away, in time for its 75th anniversary.
In our first “Back of House” column, we talked to Antonio about growing up wandering the hotel’s lemon-scented corridors, the (sometimes eccentric) personalities who return summer after summer, and how the “salsiccia”gets made: the behind-the scenes saves and things he obsesses over that guests rarely notice—preserving the spirit that melds this rare blend of effortless elegance and authenticity.
Your family converted the villa into a hotel in 1951. What stories have been handed down to you about those early years?
I grew up on stories from 1951 that feel almost like family legends. My uncle and his siblings (including my father) had a beautiful but impractical villa and essentially improvised their way into being hoteliers overnight. The first guests were more like house guests than clients: friends of friends, writers, a few very adventurous foreigners who arrived mostly by car and stayed for weeks.
One favorite story is about a group of Swedish ladies who wrote asking to book rooms. My uncle, in his thirties, imagined a glamorous group of film‑star blondes descending on the village. He ran around Positano preparing as if a royal delegation was arriving. When they finally appeared, they were in fact a group of very proper, older ladies with precise dietary requirements. It was an early lesson that hospitality is about welcoming whoever actually walks through the door!
They made a lot of mistakes in those early years – miscounted reservations, running out of hot water, recipes that flopped – but guests forgave them because the family’s sincerity was obvious.

What did Le Sirenuse feel like to you as a child?
For me as a child, Le Sirenuse wasn’t “a hotel,” it was simply home with a lot of extra people in it. I would run through corridors that smelled of lemon blossoms, weave between suitcases in the lobby, and peek into the dining room to see what kind of characters had arrived that night.
It felt like living in a permanent theatre set, at the same time, there was stability – the same housekeepers, the same chef. It was very intimate.

Did you always imagine yourself coming back to run it?
As a teenager I was convinced I would escape and do something completely different. When you grow up in a family business, it can feel like destiny has already been written for you, so you push against it.
Spending time away, in other cities and other hotels, made me realize how special what we had at home was. At some point the thought shifted from “I must get away” to “I would love to go back and help steward this.” So no, I didn’t always imagine it – but once I did, it felt inevitable.

Before returning home, you spent time working in larger international hotel brands. What did those years teach you about hospitality that you chose to bring home, and what did you consciously decide not to?
Big international brands taught me discipline: systems, training, consistency, and the power of clear standards. I saw how much more calm a guest feels when every touchpoint works, from check‑in to housekeeping to something as simple as hot water pressure for a shower. I brought that back: better training, more structured processes.
What I chose not to import was the feeling of corporatization. At Le Sirenuse I wanted to keep the imperfections that make a place feel lived in and personal: real conversations, some freedom of character in the team, and decisions that prioritize soul over spreadsheets when necessary.

What do you obsess over that guests may never consciously notice?
I obsess over what you could call the “emotional temperature” of the house: the tone of voice at reception, the pace of service, whether guests look slightly tense or fully at ease as they cross the lobby. Many will never consciously register that, but they feel it.
On a more concrete level, I’m almost maniacal about lighting, sound, and décor. A slightly too bright bulb, music that’s two decibels too high, these seem trivial, but they change how a space is experienced.
What is the most complicated part of creating a seamless guest experience?
The most complicated part is that “seamless” is different for each guest. Some want to be left completely alone, others want conversation and guidance, others want every wish anticipated before they even articulate it. Operationally, the real complexity is coordination. Housekeeping, front office, F&B, spa, transport – they all touch the same person at different moments. Making that feel like one coherent experience.

Finding and retaining great talent must be one of the big challenges of the hospitality world. How do you hire, what are you looking for in people, and is there anything that tells you right away someone won’t last?
We hire first for attitude, then for skills. You can train someone to carry three plates or use a PMS, but you cannot train genuine curiosity about people or the desire to make others feel good. I look for warmth, humility, and a certain light in the eyes when they talk about service.
What’s the most memorable behind-the-scenes save that your team has ever pulled off?
Every year when we reopen for the season, it’s always a bit of a balancing act… the workmen are still laying tiles as guests begin to walk down the renovated areas… lamps are awaiting their shades, the maids are preparing rooms after a long sleepy winter, while the gardeners are changing the plants and the maintenance team ensure all the lightbulbs work… a total whirlwind!!!

How many of your guests are returning visitors? Are there characters you look forward to seeing again every season?
A significant portion of our guests are repeat visitors – in some periods of the season it feels like half the house is made up of familiar faces. Over the decades, some families have become almost extensions of our own.
There are indeed “characters” whose arrival feels like the return of a favourite relative: the couple who always wants the same table at breakfast, the writer who works in the bar in the afternoons, the guests who bring their children back year after year and suddenly you realize the children are now arriving with their partners.
What is one thing you wish guests could be better at, not just at your hotel, but in general?
I wish guests everywhere would remember that behind every interaction there is a human being, not a machine. Most people are wonderful but sometimes travel stress makes even kind people forget basic courtesy. A related wish: that guests would communicate their needs more openly and a bit earlier. If something is wrong, tell us. If you have a dream for your stay, share it at the beginning. The more we know, the more we can shape the experience.

We all want to know: who really gets the upgrades?
We are only open 7 months of the year and in those months we have a high occupancy not allowing us to often offer upgrades… when we can, we always favour loyal guests, and guests of travel advisors that have supported us over the years.
Is that a formulaic or relationship-driven decision?
Always relationship based!
You’ve spent decades witnessing people at their most relaxed, and probably demanding. What has this role taught you about human nature?
It has taught me that people are rarely just one thing. The same person can be incredibly kind to one staff member and unreasonably demanding with another, depending on how secure or vulnerable they feel at that moment.

For a hotel as beloved as Le Sirenuse, how do you decide what should remain sacred and what should evolve?
The rule of thumb is: anything that holds an emotional memory for our guests is sacred – the views, the atmosphere of the bar, certain rituals like breakfast on the terrace or the feel of the lobby at night. Those we touch only with extreme care. We allow ourselves to evolve in things that support those fundamentals: comfort, technology, back‑of‑house efficiency. You might not see the wiring changes or the system upgrades, but they allow us to preserve the magic you do see without becoming a museum.
Having watched Positano transform from a sleepy resort town to a globally visible destination over the decades, how has the behind the scenes work changed to make sure Le Sirenuse still feels intimate and relaxing for your guests?
The biggest shift has been the need for much more planning and curation. When Positano was quieter, spontaneity was easier; now, to give guests the feeling of effortless ease, we have to orchestrate more: restaurant bookings, boat trips, transfers, even beach access. Internally, it has meant strengthening our concierge and guest relations teams, building better relationships with local partners, and sometimes gently steering guests away from overrun experiences towards quieter, more authentic ones, so that their memory of Positano is not just of crowds.

Can you tell us a bit about Sirenuse Mare? What made you decide to take that on, and what was the vision/inspiration for the location?
Sirenuse Mare was born from the desire to extend the Le Sirenuse experience down to the water, in a way that felt organic rather than like a separate “product.” The sea is such a central part of the Amalfi coast identity that it felt natural to create a place where guests and outside clients could spend the day right on the shoreline. The vision was to create something relaxed and sun‑washed – a kind of elegant beach salon rather than a traditional beach club, where you can have serious food in a setting that still feels informal and barefoot.

What’s the coolest thing people don’t know about the hotel? (A design detail, hidden corner, or some historic anecdote)
There are many small secrets. One of my favorites is that some of the artworks and objects guests walk past every day are pieces my family lived with long before the hotel existed – they weren’t “decor,” they were simply ours. There are also corners that feel almost hidden: a small terrace where the view lines up exactly with the church dome, or a staircase landing where, at a certain hour, the light breaks through in a way that makes the tiles glow. Those are the places I send friends who think they already know the hotel by heart.
What’s the best part of your job?
The best part is witnessing the moments when the place disappears and guests simply inhabit it – a couple quietly reading on a balcony, a family laughing over breakfast, someone having an “I can’t believe I’m here” expression when they step onto the terrace.
And the toughest?
The toughest part is that true hospitality is 24/7, and as the person ultimately responsible, you never completely switch off. Even on a “day off,” part of your mind is scanning for what could go wrong. It can also be emotionally demanding to absorb so many expectations, all the intensity of human life compressed into short stays.

What do you do on a day off (if those exist)?
I try to do very simple things: go out on the water, walk a quiet path above town, read something unrelated to hotels.
You’re such an intrepid traveler! Favorite locations and favorite hotels in the world (besides your own)?
I’m drawn to places where landscape and culture are tightly woven together: the Silk Road, parts of Japan, small towns in Latin America, and always cities like Paris or New York that are constantly renewing themselves and are hubs of design art and culture..
In terms of hotels, I admire properties that feel deeply rooted in their place, whether they are grand urban hotels or tiny family‑run inns. The common thread is a strong personality and a sense that the hotel could not exist anywhere else, like the Dwarika’s Hotel in Katmandu, Las Mañanitas in Cuernavaca, and The Peninsula Hong Kong.

Your sons are working with you now—does this mean more down time or are you just focusing on other things? And what are you most excited about for the future?
Having my sons involved is both a relief and a new responsibility. It doesn’t mean less work, but it does mean the work is shared and there is a sense of continuity that is very comforting. It allows me to shift some energy towards long‑term projects rather than only the urgencies of the day.
What excites me most is the idea that each generation will reinterpret Le Sirenuse in its own way while preserving its soul. If we can still make guests feel intimately welcomed here in another fifty years, in a world that will look very different, that will be the real success.

Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.