Going from a cold and wet environment in the Alps to bright and sunny Mediterranean cities was just what I needed. The train ride from Zermatt to Cinque Terre gave me some time for sleep, but not nearly enough. I arrived very groggy and exhausted from my Swiss adventures. I didn’t really know what to do or where to go, so I just defaulted to the visitors center and started walking.

Cinque Terre is comprised of 5 towns, Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. Starting at Monterosso al Mare, I started hiking along the Italian Riviera. A gorgeous, yet strenuous trail that takes you to all five towns. Profuesely sweating I kept hiking up the trail, hoping that my views were worth the strenuous hike. Reaching a viewpoint for Vernazza, I was certain that my efforts had not been in vain. Continuing along the trail I came across a toll booth. The woman inside wanted five Euros for the use of the trail. I was astonished! I can understand the concept for paying to use a nicely maintained trail, but why have it nearly halfway between cities. Not having five Euros on me, she let me through but told me I couldn’t hike to the other cities without getting a pass. I assured her that I would get money out of the ATM and pay the next toll booth.

Arriving in Vernazza, exhausted and drenched with sweat from my hike, I walked around the city marveling at how different Italy was than Switzerland. The buildings were brightly colored and very close together. People had their clothes strung up in the narrow spaces between buildings, children ran around playing games, concrete steps snaked either up or down throughout the city. Flowers, flags, clothes, tourists, and umbrellas dominated the city streets, creating a vibrant energy that helped boost my own after being thoroughly drained in Zermatt.

I found an ATM machine, but unfortunately it wouldn’t work, I tried several others with no success. Guess I wouldn’t be hiking along the trail after all. I headed to the train station and realized that my Eurail pass granted me access to the trains connecting the cities, relieved that I was going to see them all, I hopped on board for one of the next cities.

I don’t remember which town it was I went to next, but I think it was the last one, Riomaggiore. I started exploring the town just like the first, it was very similar to the first and second towns, in that it was on the coast, had brightly colored buildings, and was full of life. Now that I was quite hot from baking in the sun and carrying my pack around all day as I explored the cities, I decided to go for a swim. Not having any place to change into my swimming suit, I decided that the street would do just fine. Taking my plastic bag that I had previously worn as pants in the Alps, I covered my waist and changed into my swimming suit. TA DA! Ready to swim I was.

Securing everything in my backpack, I walked barefoot along some jagged rocks along a small cliff where others were attempting to relax and sunbathe. I set down my bag, and being a little uneasy about leaving it among a crowd of people I timidly started off into the crystal clear water. Having grabbed my goggles I swam around under the water surprised at how many fish I saw. Hundreds of fish all shapes, sizes and colors swam around me and the rocks. Keeping an eye on my pack I swam around to some of the surrounding cliffs, climbed up and got my fill of cliff diving.

After my swim I grabbed my bag and headed out for the next town via train, Manarola. Arriving already in my swimming suit, I figured that I might as well swim there too. Walking down to the rocky area where others were sitting, I once again nestled my backpack and dove in the water. Beginning to trust the international public a bit more I felt a little more comfortable about leaving my bag unwatched.

The area where I was now swimming had a lot more people and was one of my most favorites. I swam around big rock formations and jumped off a few of them. I eyed a guy in orange shorts jumping off the highest rock on the site. Battling my inner self whether or not to climb the rock and leap off, after much deliberation I climbed the rock and plunged into the water below. Feeling free and relieved I swam to shore, and grabbed my bag.

I decided to jump off the top of this rock... good times

This time before going to the next town I decided to try an ATM nearby and was thrilled to once again have a few Euros. I found a reasonably priced restaurant near the water and was greeted by a friendly Italian family who no doubt ran the establishment. Once I choose a seat, the host sat me and my backpack at a table. (Yes, I had lunch with my backpack). Since I was near the sea, I decided it only be fitting to order something from the sea. I settled on Linguini with Clams. This was my first Italian meal and it was fantastic!

Next I headed for the middle town of Corniglia. When I got off the train I did not see the town. It took me a minute to realize that it was much higher than the train stop. I joined the other tourists in climbing the 382 steps up to the town. Exploring the town for a while I stated to take pictures, but before I knew it my battery was dead. I began looking around the town for a plug in. I went into small coffee shops and Gelato shops to find a plug in. I came to what was the opening of an apartment complex, I finally found an outlet hanging from the ceiling just inside the doorway. I snuck up to the building and secured my charger with its adapter to the mysterious hanging outlet. Waiting nearby I found a faucet that some people were filling their water bottles at, I joined them and drank from this water. Assuming that it was treated I hoped for the best. I hung around the area a little while longer to give my batter a chance to charge before I jetted off and out of the town, back down the 382 steps. At this point I had already swam in two of the five towns and decided that I would swim in all five of them before leaving Cinque Terre.

I didn’t really see a nice swimming area like the other places had, but I did find a rock beach that was hard to walk on. The walk to get to it was quite far and arduous. Once reaching the area, I set my bag down, ripped off my shirt and walked into the water. Swimming around for several minutes, I got out of the water, shook off like a dog and headed back  up the metal stairs toward the train station.

Getting to Vernazza, where I had already been before, I knew I still needed to swim. I walked down to the water set my bag down, and jumped off the end of a dock. I swam around to another big rock that I felt the need to climb and jump off, just like the others. Successfully cliff diving in three of the five towns thus far I felt accomplished. Grabbing my bag I headed back up to the train station.

Throughout my day wandering around Cinque Terre I had spotted an older man who was sickly skinny carrying a newspaper and had a cigar in his mouth. He was at this train station walking around with a deranged look on his face. I could tell he was certainly not well. He began shouting something in gibberish Italian at one of the people waiting for the train, then he walked over to me and started talking to me in his gibberish Italian. I just kept a straight face and he eventually walked away from me to yell at a few other people. One of the other people waiting for the train looked over at me and we exchanged a look of “yeah, that guy surely is crazy.”

I was happy when the train arrived, it meant that I only had one more town left to swim in. Unfortunately this time I got on the train, but it was going the wrong way. It took me to Corniglia. Jumping off at Corniglia, I waited for the proper train which took me back down to Monterosso al Mare.

The daylight was beginning to dwindle, I found my spot along the beach and dove into my final swimming spot of the day. Happy that I swam in all five towns I got my train information to Venice. While I was waiting for the train I decided to grab a quick bite to eat. I found an area that sold sandwiches, and I just picked one of the cheaper ones off the menu. I didn’t really care what it was, I figured whatever it was had to be edible right?

I get a nice ciabatta bread sandwich and hungry from all of my swimming and traveling of the day I bite into the sandwich. It was then and there I realized that I had ordered something, rather fishy. I looked down and saw what I had bit into, a lushious tomato and a very salty fish. The overpowering salty fish took me by surprise. One typically needs to prepare themselves before indulging in a salty fishy tasting fish with the scales on it. The sandwich wasn’t that bad actually, just not what I was in the mood for.

Heading to the train station I utilized their bathroom. I washed my hair, brushed my teeth, cleaned my feet, washed my face, changed my clothes and just got myself as freshened up as I could before my journey to Venice.

On our first morning in the Cinque Terre, we awoke to the rather persistent ringing of bells at the neighbouring church, and realized that a new day had begun.

Of course, being in the famous Cinque Terre region, we decided that the best thing to do was to see all five of the fishing villages, namely Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso.

We started off with our complimentary breakfast, which was up a little alleyway in a most unassuming room. It was crammed full of small, colourfully decorated tables and the quintessential Italian Mama serving unmistakable Italian coffee.

When we arrived there were only two other people in the breakfast room, but soon enough the place was packed full of eager travellers, especially Americans arguing over the fact that the milk served here must be goats milk because ‘Have you seen any cows around here?’

Now, the day before had been quite gruelling as we had to climb the steep roads of Riomaggiore as well as the couple hundred steps to get to our room. I have to warn you that if you plan to come here, walking (and strenuous walking at that) is just part of the process.

We had heard that in order to walk along the mountain trails from one fishing village to another, you needed to buy a pass from the Cinque Terre Parks office. We found out from a very nice lady at the train station that this pass is 8 Euros 50, which includes rail travel and the local green bus within the villages. Since we really just wanted to mosey around each village, we decided that two one way tickets at 1.40 euro each would do just fine instead.

Oh, and by the way, if you ever travel by rail in Italy just remember to validate your ticket before you travel. If you don’t, you’ll have to pay 50 Euros if you are caught with an invalid ticket. There are loads of little yellow boxes around the stations that will perform this menial task for you.

The first stop from Riomaggiore was Manarola, which slowly got us ready for the day ahead. It’s probably the sleepiest of the Cinque Terre, and the prices in general seem to be a little more reasonable. There is a pretty little cemetery at the top of Manarola, where you can get a beautiful view of the village in a peaceful setting.

Manarola

The next village on the line is Corniglia, and if you intend to walk it beware; there is a network of paths to the top which will make even the hardiest traveller shiver in their Hi-Tec boots!

The steps leading up to Corniglia

Corniglia had a very particular feel about it; in fact each and every village has its own distinct personality.

Corniglia

We spotted a local restaurant which had a large signboard advertising food and tea, and tea really appealed to us on this cloudy and drizzly day. We were a little disappointed to discover that the aforementioned restaurant didn’t offer tea after all, nor café nor cappuccino, only pizza, Panini and a rather grumpy Italian storekeeper.

Going down the Corniglia steps was a lot easier than going up, and we made our way to the Stazione to catch the next train to Vernazza, the next village along the line. Vernazza seemed to be the busiest, at least on this particular day. We stopped in at a local bar for the tea and cappuccino that we had been craving since Corniglia, and we watched the hustle and bustle in the cramped but cosy restaurant.

Vernazza

We had made it through 4 of the 5 villages in good time. Last stop, Monterosso. This village offers a good view of the Cinque Terre from one of the walking trails, and you can also see the statue of Neptune here.

Monterosso

We stopped to play a quick game of wooden noughts and crosses at a local kiddie’s playground, before we started scouring the immediate area for something to eat. Finding nothing suitable at a reasonable price, we decided to catch the next train to Levanto. Not part of the Cinque Terre, but in the nearby vicinity, we thought it might be worth a look in.

Levanto

Levanto has a really great vibe and picture-perfect alleyways and cobbled streets. The only thing is that the place comes to a complete standstill from 1pm to 4pm in the afternoon, and after searching for a while we finally found an eatery that was open. The Bistro des Artistes isn’t actually top of the list when it comes to dining, but the owner seemed friendly and the food was reasonable, plus it’s one of the few places open in Levanto at that time of the afternoon!

I wondered what the Cinque Terre must be like in the heat of summer, with that certain buzz that the crowds bring. Then again, it must be quite hectic with all those people filing through the tiny villages.

As I mentioned before, Manarola seemed a bit more reasonable in terms of restaurant prices and so we made this our pit stop for dinner.

There is an extremely inviting restaurant on the way to the waters edge in Manarola, Trattoria il Porticciolo and it wasn’t long before we were nestled into a comfy corner with a glass of red wine and a delicious Italian pasta. Their pastas are reasonably priced at around 7 Euros, and seriously tasty. The general atmosphere of the place is awesome, and the waitress was bubbly and full of life. We snuck in a Sorbetti alla Fruitti before trotting down to the Manarola stazione en route to Riomaggiore.

As we waited on the platform we were approached by a blonde American lady who seemed a little unsure of which train to catch. We walked with her to the information screen and showed her the correct train, where we were joined by her two friends. As one of the ladies asked where we were from, another one answered ‘Australia’ and when we said ‘South Africa’ their eyes lit up and then questions starting coming! We chatted for a little while until their train arrived and in a second they were gone and we were alone on the deserted platform once again.

It’s funny but even at 10pm at night on a dark Manarola station, you never once feel threatened or unsafe and that’s what I love about being here.

So, the Cinque Terre certainly livens up during the day, but at night you can definitely see that the season is over.

Non e’ mai stata tradizione della mia famiglia quella di allestire il presepe, da noi si “faceva l’albero”!
Pero’, chissà da dove, un anno, comparvero delle statuine, cosi’ a caso, e mio padre torno’ dalla valle orgoglioso di un pugno di muschio.
Ve le adagiammo sopra, ma non eravamo soddisfatti cosicché  ritagliammo tanti pezzi di cartone colorato in cui aprimmo file di finestre.
Li sistemammo alle spalle del bambinello, al posto di mettere la capanna; del resto mancavano pure il bue e l’asinello.
Ci mettemmo comunque un pezzo di cartone che spiccava su tutti, lo facemmo terminare a punta e quello fu il campanile.
Avevamo qualche pecora ma nessun pastore, decidemmo di rinchiuderle in un recinto di sottili stecchi di nocciolo sfilati dalle fascine.
Il recinto sorse all’ingresso del paese e appena dietro, quasi a strapiombo della piccola collina,  aveva preso forma il grande stagno, perche’ di muschio ce n’era  proprio poco.
Un’ immensa distesa di stagnola coronata da un rosario di sassolini ad emergere come scogli; ancor ora mi chiedo con quale pretesa si volesse far assomigliare l’argenteo  riflesso anche pure alla più bizzarra tonalità d’azzurro che acqua ci ricordi.
Ma non importava, anzi, avevamo ancora qualche ritaglio di cartone che mettemmo oltre lo stagno in un piccolo promontorio in cui, nel complesso, qualche abitazione ci pareva star bene.
Il tocco finale, direbbe l’artista! Quello che ho pensato e rivissuto stasera guardando questa foto.

foto@Dona
Corniglia  (Cinque Terre)

Uno scorcio di Corniglia.

Our first day in Corniglia was lazy. Why? Because we were completely sleep deprived. We paid for and boarded the shuttle that would take us to the heart of Corniglia once we got off the train. There are steps, for the brave, but the thought of climbing hundreds of steps with our suitcases on such little sleep was too tiring to even think about.

Once there, we set out to find Cristiana Ricci, the woman from whom we were renting a room. We had emailed her approximately two days before leaving for Corniglia. Her response was prompt, and she had availability. Anyway, we found Cristiana after asking around in cafes about her. Our room wasn’t ready, but she said she could hold our bags for us so we could enjoy the day. She took us to the storage room for the cafe. I didn’t think anything of it, mostly because I was too tired to think. J. Clare, on the other hand, immediately took a photo for evidence.

We made our way to the beach, down what was likely to be hundreds of steps. Corniglia is not for the faint of heart. It is high, HIGH in the hills and to get anywhere, you’re going to need to march up and down quite a few steps. The walk down may give you vertigo, the walk up cannot be done without at least three breaks.

The beach is beautiful, though. I love the Mediterranean, I think it’s flawless. I know there are a lot of people who would prefer sand to the giant rocks, but I can do without.

We spent hours at the beach…sleeping. And woke up sweaty every few half hour to mutter something unintelligible about how beautiful Corniglia is, or how hot it was, or how adorable some family was.

When we had enough of the heat, we walked back up the steps to the town center, put the suitcases in our room and changed for dinner. Generally, I will be the most excited between the two of us to eat, but as this region was the birthplace of pesto and focaccia, J. Claire, a lover of both, was calling the restaurant shots. We went to Ristorante Cecio and sat on their terrace to enjoy a bottle of wine and a simple, but delicious full meal of local treats. Wrapped up in the view and the sleep deprivation and the wine, I think I told J. Claire I wanted to stay there forever. We spent the remainder of the evening in the town square drinking wine (me) and coffee (her), admiring our surroundings and the prices, and almost forgetting we were tired.

xo,

J. Justine

Cristiana Ricci, cri_affittacamere@virgilio.it, www.bebcorniglia.com (photos 2, and 3)

Ristorante Cecio, via Serra 58, Corniglia, Cinque Terre.

When the man selling you train tickets gives you the side-eye when you let him know exactly which trains you want to take, it is likely that you’re doing something wrong.

We went to the train station, clutching pieces of green scrap paper on which we had written train numbers, times and prices. We had a plan and wanted to make sure we got the exact tickets we wanted. For some reason, the exact tickets we wanted happened to involve a number of “off-hours” trains.

First, we were scheduled to take an overnight train from Venice to Corniglia, one of the Cinque Terre, on the other coast of Italy. Had the train been non-stop, it would have been ideal. But it was not the case. So, we boarded a train at 11:30p to leave Venice an embark on the following sleepless adventure:

Venice (11:30p) to Bologna (2:10a)

Bologna (4:12a) to Parma (5:10a)

Parma (5:15a) to La Spezia (7:22a)

La Spezia (7:22a) to Corniglia (8:13a)

Thanks to cell phone alarms and the fear of missing our stop, only to end up in God Knows Where, Italy, we left our seats about 10 minutes before our stop and had an almost flawless trip…as flawless as a train trip that includes a two hour layover in the frigid Bologna train station could be. Then we arrived in Parma and boarded what would have been the nicest train of the entire trip, until when checking our tickets…

Conductor: Parli Italiano?

Me: No.

Conductor: Capisci?

Me: Non.

You know when someone speaks to you in another language and your brain defaults to respond in whatever other language you know? That’s what was happening here, I started responding in French.

And with that, he began to speak, slowly, deliberately, repetitively, using a number of hand-motions.  I picked out whatever words I could, trying to understand what he was telling us, and nodded to demonstrate when I understood, only to be interrupted by a very confused J. Claire sitting across from me.

J. Claire: Why are you pretending like you understand him?

Me: Because I think I kind of do.

He was telling us that everyone would have to get off the train at a station called Fornovo…at first I thought it was Fort Novo…and board a bus, that would take us to another station, where we could board the train to go to La Spezia. Or so I thought. Sure enough, the train stopped at Fornovo, and everyone left the train. We followed and found a bus waiting, so, like everyone else, we put our bags in the compartment underneath the bus and took a seat.

5:30a. Riding in a coach bus through the mountains of Emilia-Romagna and Liguria, awaiting the sunrise, and asking each other how we ended up here. It was random. But, at the same time, it was glorious. I was so deprived of sleep, I could not stop smiling, even as the bus driver turned mountain corners at alarming speeds. I wasn’t even disappointed or upset when we got to Santo Stefano di Magra and had to wait another hour for a train to come and take us to La Spezia.

During our wait, a nun came in and tried to ask us a question. It was at that point that I realized we could probably win the award for most random trip ever.

The train to La Spezia was not eventful, we slept the entire way, and then realized that, when we got to La Spezia, it was late enough in the morning that we now had to interact…and fight for train space with…people who had had full nights of sleep. The train from La Spezia was crowded, noisy and a little dark, traveling mostly in tunnels. Still sleep deprived, we were a little irritable. But the view of the Mediterranean as you enter Riomaggiore, is enough to take your breath away.

Moments later, we were in Corniglia, an equally beautiful town.

xo

J. Justine

The story of Cinque Terre is a long one, so I’ve broken it up chronologically for you. You’re welcome!

Day 1: After we calmed down and had a shower, we went out to take a walk (fare un giro) around Corniglia, taking in the stunning views from our super high (300+ feet) vantage point. Then, certo, we went looking for dinner; we ended up at a crazy, overwhelming, kind of expensive mom and pop place with delicious frutti di mare (made Guy eat most of it) and crema cotta al cioccolato. Once we’d eaten we were pretty much ready for bed.

(Guy attempts a spin cycle on the terrace)

Day 2: We got up early, got some washing done. (see above pic), then threw our hiking clothes on and headed off to Manarola and Rio Maggiore. Our lunch in Rio Maggiore was fab (delish spaghetti alle vongole), and just what we needed after a tough emotional bump in the road on the way. Super full, we headed back to Manarola for swimming, which led to another massive bump (but we did meet a nice American couple from Michigan), but was also beautiful and fun at times.

We managed to pull ourselves together for a post-swim gelato (anything for gelato), but then things fell apart again when we missed the train back to Corniglia and had to wait an hour at a touristy bar… Suffice it to say that things were rocky on the relationship front for the first time in the trip, and it lasted too long for my liking.

Eventually, though, Guy managed to come out of his funk and work at getting me out of mine (a direct result of his) with the dark chocolate gelato I’d been eyeing for days and a moonlit outpouring of love from the highest viewpoint in town (for a minute I thought I was going to be proposed to- there’s something in the water these days-
but thank god he’d only bent down so he could pick me up!). Plus, he made me pesto pasta alla Genovese for dinner and we ate on the terrace, which made me feel better, and I passed out at 10:30, which is always nice. It was a loooong day, though.

Day 3: After a quick and expensive email check, we began the hike to Vernazza, only to stop halfway there to go down to a nude beach for a swim. We thought the trail would be steep (we figured we had to descend then ascend about 500 feet) but not too tough (after all, not all nudists are in shape!), so we were surprised to find ourselves clambering down a very steep, at times vertical and unstable trail for 45 minutes, with massive spiders in chair-sized funnel webs surrounding us. We had a lovely swim, though, and a great ogle (I did go topless to even the score- eep!), and then it was back up for an hour along a different, much narrower, just as steep, much more dangerous and crumbly and open (fall-to-your-death-y) cliffside trail.

After our unexpected adventure, we abandoned our plans to do Vernazza and Monterosso by foot, and instead we came home, grabbing gelato and some veggies on the way, where we showered, made more pennette with pesto and zucchini and heirloom tomatoes, and then relaxed for a minute before heading back out.

We walked (slowly, so I could at least try to avoid sweating off my freshly applied sunscreen in the blazing heat) to the train station and hopped a train to Monterosso.

(Sidebar tidbit: when we got to Monterosso, there was a guy with a really cute puppy, and when it was distracted by something he called out “andiamo!”, which means “let’s go” in Italian, but the American woman behind him thought it was the puppy’s name and she cooed “Andiamoooo, woohoooooo” in a girly voice to try to get it to come over! Then she turned to her friend and said “it must not understand my accent,” while the guy gave her such a mean look because he thought she was making fun of him. I almost peed myself. The puppy’s name was Maya)

Anyway, we grabbed a coffee at a little bar overlooking the beach, missed our train (again, but this time without the dire consequences), and spent an hour in the train station people watching before catching the next train to Vernazza.

We grabbed dinner in Vernazza at a restaurant on the top of the castello; the food was good if not amazing and the view was beautiful, so it evened out to a lovely evening (and cool!). When we’d eaten our fill, despite not having gelato, we headed home to pass out again (angry sidebar: the stupid bus stopped running half an hour before we got to the station, so we had to walk up the 377 steps to town. Boooooooo). It was an exhausting but really lovely way to spend our last day.

(brekkie on the terrace)

Day 4: We managed one last breakfast on the terrace before packing like mad in order to be out by 10, as requested (ridic). Once out, we had a leisurely and cold caffe shakerato at our fave spot in Corniglia, cafe Matteo, then hopped the bus to the train station.

All was fine and dandy until the train arrived. As we got on, I noticed that one of the two pubescent Italian girls who’d been waiting on the platform with us was strangely close to me. I put it down to classic european lack of personal space, but when I turned I saw her sneaky little hand trying to reach into my purse! Shocked, I shouted “excuse you! Why is your hand inside my bag?”, and then, in response to her faux innocence face, the first thing that came to mind in Italian: “parlo Italiano, non va bene. Vai!” Not my most articulate moment, but it got the point across. She and her friend got off the train (I suspect that was their plan anyway once they had my wallet) and then proceeded to throw things at the closed window and flip me off as I went by. I barely noticed that, though, because I was still shaking from the confrontation; in all the times I’ve traveled, and lived, in Italy, I’ve never been pickpocketed. Granted, I’m very careful of my things (for example, I was wearing my new leather bag, which zips at the top, of course!), but still. I felt extremely violated. It still makes my heart race to think about it.

But anyway, the good news was we had a fairly uneventful journey back to Bologna, and were even lucky enough to get a really nice regional train to Parma, where we changed over (we thought about staying for some prosciutto and parmesan, but we decided it would be too much of a aim with the bags) to a crappy one.

In all Cinque Terre was gorgeous, but tough on the muscles! I marveled the whole time at how little warning there is about the trails; they’re not too tough for someone active, but for a fairly sedentary person they’d be a real trial! They certainly made my body hurt (although most of that is probably the result of the unexpected scaling of a 400 foot mountain for a dip in the ocean and a few naked penises). So I say go, because it’s stunning, but do as the Germans do and bring your hiking boots- thank god I had my new white (now brown) sneakers!

More when I get back to the rainy land of pubs and sarnies.

Ciao for now!

Sent from my fancypants iPhone

Allora, da dove cominciare…dal fatto che quest’anno ho passato le vacanze estive in una regione d’Italia che ben poco conoscevo: la Liguria, una zona d’Italia ricca di fascino e di risorse, che cercherò, con questo piccolo excursus di viaggio, di raccontare.

Lerici: arrivando da sopra la collina si scorge lo splendido golfo di Lerici con il suo porticciolo luccicante e il castello che sovrasta le case colorate. Si tratta di uno dei paesi che insieme a San Terenzo, Tellaro ed altri, fa parte dell’ affascinante Golfo dei Poeti, così chiamato in onore degli artisti che amarono ed onorarono questo posto quali David Herbert Lawrence, George Sand, Lord Byron e lo scrittore Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Quindi trascorrere le vacanze in questo borghetto significa godersi il saliscendi dalle ripide salite sulla collina per cercare spiaggette e calette paradisiache in cui godersi il caldo sole dell’estate, passeggiare sul lungomare e ritemprarsi con un bagno serale al molo rinfrescandosi agli ultimi raggi della sera prima che il sole tramonti dietro la Palmaria e Portovenere a poche km da lì.

 Isola Palmaria: proseguendo la visita di questi litorali non si può non fare tappa su quell’isola che sta proprio di fronte al porticciolo lericino, un angolo di macchia mediterranea pressocché intonsa con caprette selvatiche che fanno scorpacciate di foglie di fico, agavi, rovi di more e fitta vegetazione marittima.

Vale la pena arrivarci da Portovenere prendendo un barchino che fa scalo a Punta secca, dove l’acqua è spettacolare per un bagnetto pre-salita, e da qui iniziare la passeggiata-faticata belli freschi di mare per attraversare la irta collina fino all’altro capo dell’isola.

Lo ammetto, la scampagnata non è delle più comode, ma ripaga dalla stanchezza la vista delle rocce a picco sul mare e la tranquillità che offrono i pini marittimi con i loro odori di resina calda di sole e di rosmarino selvatco.

Accompagnati solo dal rumore delle cicale e dal gracidare dei gabbiani che ci hanno accompagnato per tutta la salita si incontrano poche persone e ci ritempra dal caos cittadino, facendo una capatina anche al Forte Cavour, una antica fortezza ora sotto controllo dell’esercito.

Si ridiscende dunque verso una pineta e una sassosa spiaggia incantata nei pressi di una vecchia cava da cui si estraeva la pietra tipica del luogo, un marmo nero dalle venature dorate, tipico di queste zone.

Tino e Tinetto: Prima di ritornare, la barca ci fa fare il tour delle altre due isolette di cui la prima è ad esclusivo uso dell’esercito e la seconda è poco più che uno scoglio.

Sull’isola del Tino c’è però una particolarità da raccontare; il faro che vi si trova sulla sommità riprende la storia di San Venerio, protettore dei fari, che per primo si installò in eremitaggio sull’isola per far segno ai naviganti dei pericoli del mare.

Portovenere: come non sostare dunque in quel meraviglioso angolo di casette strette e colorate e perdersi sul far della sera sulla collina che ospita antichi mulini per il grano e le olive, il Castello dei Doria e la chiesa di San Lorenzo e quella di Santo Stefano, a picco sul mare, proprio dietro la Grotta Byron…

E’ perciò indispensabile intrufolarsi tra le antiche e strette viuzze di Portovenere assaporando gli odori della sera, quando il sole è di un tepore squisito e l’aria ricca di profumi salmastri; così com’è d’obbligo assaggiare una delle specialità culinarie del posto: la Farinata (detta cecina in Toscana), fatta sul momento e servita calda calda con una spolverata di pepe abbondante.

I am so royally pissed off. I’m in a gorgeous place, feeling the ocean breeze on my sweating face and listening to waves crash on the cliff face below, and all I can see is the crimson blur of my own rage.

This morning, Guy and I got up early and busted a move to get out of our hotel, on the train to Florence, on another train to La Spezia, and on yet another train through the Cinque Terre, all so we could be here in Corniglia by 3, which was the hour we were told to be here.

Our train arrived at 3:03, and we hustled off to look for some pizzeria where some woman was supposed to meet us to take us to the apartment we rented. But all we saw was hill (almost cliff), so after calling the office twice we started climbing.

By 3:20 we’d made it to the top of the hill (I’d put it at 500 feet?), but couldn’t find the pizzeria or our lady. We tried calling three more times before realizing that the office was probably closed on Sunday, at which point we dragged our heavy suitcases from one end of the piazza to the other a few times (with all the old folk watching, of course), got sunburned, cried a little, and still: NIENTE.

By 3:45 I was fuming (well, I’d been fuming for half an hour but by then I was justified). We turned on data roaming on my iPhone so we could look up the exact address where we were supposed to meet the woman, and google map it, after which we went on a wild goose chase down a street that bent seven different ways and involved a LOT of stairs (my poor gallant Guy will really be suffering tomorrow, since he carried both our suitcases), until 4:15.

Yes, after an hour and fifteen minutes of exhausting walking/climbing in blazing sun, we found our lady. How, you ask? I’ll tell you: miraculously. I asked a woman on a back street if she could help us find this infernal pizzeria, and she asked if we were looking for her! Gaaaaaaaaaaaah why didn’t she call us???

More importantly, why did the agency not give us: a) more info on how difficult Corniglia is to navigate with luggage, b) a ride from the train station, c) a 7-day/wk phone number, or d) the landlady’s phone number??!! I’m still furious, even though the flat we rented is perfectly nice and has a lovely terrace with a view.

But I’ve promised Guy I will shower off the ire and start fresh with a cappuccino, which is why I’m spending the extra cash to data roam this moan out into the world asap; if I have to forget, I want all of you to remember!

So, if you ever find yourself in Cinque Terre, either don’t rent from Arbaspaa, or don’t expect any help or customer service if you do! Gah!

Ok off I go to get into a change of clothes and a better mood. I’ll write again when we have wifi and tell you all about the fabulousness of Montepulciano and the deliciousness of Buco di San Francesco in Arezzo!

(The gorgeous sea view from our hard-won terrace)

Sent from my fancypants lifesaver of an iPhone

Eccoci di ritorno dalla Liguria. Il paese che si vede sullo sfondo se non erro è Corniglia, mentre gli scogli su cui sedevo erano ancora in territorio di Manarola.

Io, animale di terra… mi fa un certo effetto vedermi in questa veste marinara…Ma non vi preoccupate, son tornato, e già ruzzolo di nuovo fra vanghe e aiuole, progettando l’orto invernale e abbeverando le mie protette.

Ovviamente da questo viaggio in Liguria son tornato più ricco di un olivo taggiasco (20 euro un astone di due anni, mortacci…) e di una pianta di capperi, più alcuni peperoncini carini rubati da un vaso. Rubare peperoncini dai vasi per poi riseminarli a casa l’anno successivo ormai è un must delle mie vacanze…

Andrea scripsit.

Town number 3 – Corniglia.

We got a bout of bad weather between Manarola and Corniglia, and we even got rained on briefly. I must confess that I remembered this part as much more beautiful than it was.

I remember, in the past, there were small rooms that people could rent and sleep in with an incredible view. When we walked by, all these were boarded up and abandoned, so, in addition to the gloomy sky, it made me feel depressed. However, I must say that there were also trucks and areas fenced off nearby, so I am sure they are working on sprucing up the area.

They have also added a fun suspension bridge and have lengthened the sea walk which is nice; making it a somewhat level area and not too hard a hike, UNTILL….you reach the 382 steps that you have to go up to reach Corniglia! Corniglia is on top of the hill, overlooking the sea, of course, but also the valleys with their vineyards and olive trees. I think it is the town with the most spectacular view of the five, and rightly so, it is located right in the middle.

And since we were halfway through our adventure we decided to stop for lunch, and after our sandwiches, could not resist the urge to have an espresso to wash it all down.

And then off we went through the olive groves to continue on to our next adventure…

There are more than 3000 registered Italian grape varieties and many say there are as many as 15,000 varieties. Whatever the exact number is, I have begun a grape variety series on indigenous Italian varietals. I am learning and relearning many wonderful things as I work my way through the alphabet and
remember wonderful trips I have taken around Italy. One of my all time favorite restaurants is in Monterosso, Ciak. While it looks very touristy, they have the best fish ravioli I have ever eaten in over 15 years living in Italy and 20 years going there on a regular basis. Needless to say, try them at the very least.

The most recent piece I wrote is about, Albarola, one of the local grape varieties from Cinque Terre, the area of Liguria famous for its beauty.

Liguria is a long and thin region which borders on France in the West and runs to Tuscany in the East. Renowned for its extremely picturesque landscapes and closely huddled mountain towns, Liguria also produces a number of DOC wines. The wines from the Cinque Terre or five towns have been famous for centuries. They were mentioned by both Petrarch and Boccaccio. The five towns, Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore are all connected by intricate walking paths and are a favorite with Italian and international tourists. Viticulture in this area is done by hand without the use of tractors. The vines tend to grow on terraces on small plots of land. While they are beautiful to the eye, it makes for very difficult planting and harvesting.

Among the wines are a dry white named Cinque Terre DOC and the dessert version of this wine called Sciacchetra’. Albarola is one of the local grape varieties which is part of the blend that produces these two wines. The other two varieties in the blend are Bosco and Vermentino. Albarola is a small grape which is light bodied and somewhat neutral in flavor when it is young. There are more than 20 synonyms for this grape variety including Calcalella, Temosci, and Madea. As the wines made with this grape mature, they take on honey, floral and perfume aromas. In order to read the rest of this story, check out the Altacucina website.

Quiero hablaros de un lugar donde estuve este pasado agosto, no muy conocido aquí en España pero muy popular entre ingleses y italianos. Es la región a la que llaman Cinque Terre, en la provincia de La Spezia en Italia. Su nombre se debe a que los pueblos principales son cinco: Monterosso (clik aquí para ver foto), Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola y Riomaggiore. Todos ellos unidos por un sendero para recorer a pie al borde del mar llamado Via dell’amore (clik aquí para ver foto). 

Son cinco pueblos literalmente incrustados en verdes montañas y acantilados al borde mar, con casas multicolores, sencillas iglesias de estilo renacentista, geniales trattorias y ropa tendida de punta a punta de las estrechas calles. Una de las cosas que más se agradece y llama la atención es como la zona se ha resistido a la explotación masiva del turismo (que no es poco), ya que aquí no encontraréis gigantescos hoteles o mastodónticos edificios de apartamentos, aquí los hoteles se confunden con las coloridas casas.

En mi caso llegamos en coche desde Barcelona (que son unas 8 horas de viaje), lo que valió la pena ya que aprovechamos para visitar Niza y Mónaco (a los que yo no dedicaría más de 2 horas a cada uno) y después Pisa y Florencia que solo se encuentran a hora y media. En el caso de los cinco pueblos, la mejor opción es dejar el coche allí donde lo tengáis aparcado y recorrerlos o bien a pie, por la Via dell’Amore, o en la genial linea de tren que recorre las cinco poblaciones en menos de 20 minutos, ya que están muy cerca las unas de las otras. También podéis ir coche sin mucho problema, pero os encontraréis que es misión imposible aparcar y cuando lo hagáis tendreis que dejar el coche a 1 kilómetro del pueblo y encima pagando (ya que allí TODO es zona azul).  

A la hora de comer tendréis serios problemas para decidiros, ya que hay de todo y a todos los precios. En este caso nos centraremos en la cocina italiana y el genial marisco que tienen en esta zona. Os recomiendo seriamente que probéis los mejillones de la zona… están buenísimos!! También está muy buena la pasta tipo linguini con almejas y vino blanco o las frituras de pescado. En cuanto a la pizza ya sabéis… de las mejores que he probado (os recomiendo la de quesos, sin tomate).

Las playas de la zona no son como las que tenemos aquí, son mas bien pequeñitas y situadas donde el pueblo termina, con el agua salpicada de barquitas multicolores. No os recomiendo la playa de Monterrosso, ya que la mayor parte es privada (llena de hamacas de pago) y la reducida zona de libre acceso está llena de guijarros!! La que si os pido que vistéis es la playa “secreta” de Guvano (clik aquí para ver foto), ya que el simple hecho de llegar es toda una aventura. Lo primero que tenéis que hacer es coger el tren y bajaros en la estación de Corniglia, una vez allí preguntad en la tiendecita de la estación por el túnel que lleva a la playa (si si, túnel) y de paso aprovechad para comprar unos paninis y bebidas, ya que en la playa no hay nada. Una vez allí preparad 5 euros, ya que el acceso es privado (pero vale la pena). Os encontrarés delante de un antiguo túnel de tren abandonado, donde un hombre mayor os cobrará la entrada, y entonces tendréis que andar durante unos 10 minutos a través del oscuro y fresco túnel lleno de estalactitas. Una vez salgáis os encontraréis una playa poco concurrida de arena gris y una agua cristalina de color verde botella, un contraste bastante impactante. También podéis ir a tumbaros a las playas de Lerici, más extensas y de arena fina, o a la pequeña playa de Vernazza, enfrente de la placita principal del pueblo, ideal para no perder detalle.

Para termiar, os dejo el enlace de la página de turismo de la zona de la Cinque Terre, donde encontrarés información bastante útil. ¡Que lo disfrutéis!

www.cinqueterre.it

It’s 5 p.m. in Manarola, Italy and a few locals are sitting outside their closed shops gossiping. A lady with glittery braided hair who owns the pottery store has a red flower in her hair and is chatting with her friends – they may have lived in Cinque Terre their whole lives. They are from a different time, when the world moved just a little bit slower.

Across from the only grocery store in town an old man is bent down, carefully slathering cement across the bottom of his house.

Tourists waiting for the grocery store to open after siesta are watching him with a distracted fascination. He gingerly picks up a slab of the grey muck, then applies over and over with his work-worn hands – back-breaking work that he’s probably done for decades to protect his house from wear and tear.
The grocery store will re-open eventually, just not right now.

Further down the hill, trattoria waiters are setting their tables; slowly because the dinner rush won’t come until 9pm. But, there is always a Westerner who wants to eat early.

My best friend and I are down at the fishing wharf watching a cat stalking birds. The orange glow of the setting sun reflects in her eyes and on the white parts of her fur as she comes purring to my feet.

Manarola is a quaint Italian fishing town, with laundry hanging from the balconies and children casting for fish at twilight. Life moves at a turtle’s pace in this town, and the other four that make up Cinque Terre (“five lands”) – a string of fishing villages positioned along the west coast of Italy, south of Genova.
The villages – Monterossa, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomagiorre – are built into the steep cliffs with brightly coloured buildings and steep, narrow roads. The area is known as the “Italian Riviera” – and for good reason.

Bound together by a scenic hiking trail and a long stretch of jaw-dropping coastline, the modest villages-turned tourist havens, have something for everyone – from romantic honeymooner to adventurous backpackers to families.

Hiking enthusiasts descend upon Cinque Terre to conquer the trail, which takes about six hours for a person of average fitness. Just beware of the hikers wielding ski poles.

The trails vary in difficulty and are best divided into sections. Bring a huge bottle of water, enough money for a slice of pizza and a gelato and leave your watch at home. Stop at each town; visit the shops; wind in and around the narrow streets and smell the mouth-watering aroma of hearty Italian cooking.
If hiking isn’t your thing, you can also take the train between towns.

The steep countryside that joins Cinque Terre is filled with sloping vineyards and tiny homes decorated with flourishing gardens. Many locals are involved in the production of a dry white wine, known as “Cinque Terre”, and the dessert wine “Sciacchetrà”. Fishing, agriculture and tourism are also part economy.
On one side, the rolling hills are green and fertile, on the other, sharp cliffs dive into the calm Mediterranean Sea.

Thousands of tourists visit Cinque Terre every year, but the national park and UNESCO world heritage site is still teeming with authentic and unassuming Italian culture.

Decadent food, beautiful scenery, rich history and the colourful locals, make Cinque Terre charming.
Whistling while they work, joking and laughing at all hours, Italians thrive on their social lives. They seem to be born with the inherent knowledge that life is too short and food, drink and family should never be taken for granted or lightly.

Visiting the villages is about relaxing, observing, and absorbing by osmosis all that towns have to offer. Each village has its own personality and points of interest; from a 700-year-old church in Corniglia to La Via dell’Amore (“Lovers’ Pathway”) in Manarola.

The towns echo with their ancient history. Vernazza was formed in the 1st Century as a maritime village, while Riomagiorre was created by Greek refugees seven centuries later. The story behind some of the other towns is a little more vague, but that makes them all the more intriguing.

Whether you’re looking for a historical trip, an active holiday or a culinary experience, you’re in for a treat if you visit these five lands.

My best friend and I watched the sun set for the very last time in Manarola. We carried a bottle of local wine down to the wharf and toasted the “romantic moment”. When the orange globe disappeared below the horizon, we walked back up the road, to the nearest trattoria and ordered dinner: a simple seafood linguini with creamy and dreamy tiramisu for dessert. After that, we ate a gelato, savouring the creamy, tart taste – gelato addiction is a common symptom of a trip to Italy.

As I licked the last bit of cherry gelato from my cone, I inhaled the sweet Cinque Terre aromas – fresh flowers, olives, ocean and salt air. These towns, some of which have been around since the 1st Century, are part of a timeless world where, even after 2,000 years things still move just a little bit slower.

Day 1: Perfect weather, walking on Cloud Nine. Day 2: Rainy, windy, cold, wet and miserable.

I still laugh when I think about it. After the euphoria of the day I arrived, it couldn’t have been more depressing to look the window the next morning to see rain hitting the window pane.

Anyway, it was all part of the experience. The walks were closed for safety reasons, so I took a train to Monterosso, the westernmost village. From there, I ventured down a trail leading westwards, but it was slippery shale and muddy and at the end of it, all I got were more pictures of a grey sea. Thank goodness for hot cioccolato in Corniglia that go glop glop glop. It made a wet and miserable day less miserable.

Fortunately, good weather returned the next day. Sort of. It was still kinda windy, and not as warm as that first day. As I sat on the steps going up to Corniglia writing my journal, the wind was practically wailing. But the guys who run the hostel said the forecast would be clear for a few days, and that wind was good because it blew the rainclouds away.

Anyway, temperatures generally warm up a little as the day gets along, then drops again when the sun sets. As long as there was no rain, I was grateful. It was enough to collect my many fond memories of Cinque Terre. 

En route from Manarola to Corniglia on one of the clear days, I found myself on the shore again. This time, it was a pebble beach that attracted my curiosity. Aside from doing the cheesy thing and building a tower, I was hypnotised by the sound the pebbles made as they rolled into the sea on a retreating wave.

I’ve been on pebble beaches before, but they never affected me the way this one did. Maybe because it was in a city, or I was going diving, but in the quiet of the early morning, I heard with new ears the sound of waves driving the pebbles up the beach, then retreating with a chorus of pebbles hitting one another in a rush to not be left high and dry. Hypnotic. I must have sat there doing nothing but listening for nearly an hour.

In Corniglia, I stumbled upon a little craft shop selling locally made stuff. I’ve got a weakness for trinkets and I made one of my happiest purchases on this trip in that shop — a tiny blue glass pendant the colour of the Cinque Terre sea.

Vernazza’s got a lively buzz of ristorantes and cafés. I got a good view of it as I lapped my gelato sitting on the sea wall that fenced the cove. But trek up the hill overlooking the village and you’ll surely lose your breath — the view of the village has got to be one of the most beautiful sights to be found in Cinque Terre.

Vernazza to Monterosso, or Monterosso to Vernazza — which is the harder trek? There is no question this leg is the toughest among the four trails — and also the most scenic as it skirts vineyards and cuts through forests, climbs stone steps and descends muddy paths — but which direction was more challenging?

There was some debate at the hostel common room over this during dinner. I’ve tried the former. One day, hopefully not too far away into the future, I’ll try the latter and post the results. Watch this space, but don’t hold your breath. Hee.

There was also some debate over which village was best to stay in. Monterosso is the largest of the five. More like a small town, it’s also the most commercialised and touristy. Corniglia is nice, but it’s on the top of a headland and doesn’t have a fishing harbour. Vernazza is mid-sized with a bit more of a tourist buzz whereas Riomaggiore is mid-sized and quieter. I still like Manarola because it’s so simple and peaceful.

Manarola, apparently the oldest of the five, is a quintessential fishing village. The main road is lined on both sides with parked boats. Wandering around, I see men with tan, weathered faces wearing knitted fishmen’s caps over their silver hair, the sort of caps that you never see anywhere anymore.

The Hostel Cinque Terre was clean. The counter staff, Ricardo and Eduardo, are super friendly and the chef, Massimo, is a great cook. That day when it rained, he made a Ligurian soup to go with the cold weather, and refused to make it again during good weather.

The hostel is privately and locally run, and has an eco-friendly model, having received an “Environmental Quality Brand” for sustainable tourism. And one of the results of this is controlling water resources — everyone is limited to a five-minute bath a day.

Guests receive one token a day, which you slot in a box, starting your time. The clock ticks even if the shower is off. As I understand, guys have no problem with this. Girls, on the other hand, especially girls with long hair that need washing (and conditioning), require a whole lot more planning and dexterity come shower-time. Extra tokens can be purchased for an extra five minutes, but the slot box is outside the shower stall, which makes things more interesting. (Maybe that’s the whole point, to discourage more water usage.) Anyway, most of us just offer to slot the second coin in for whoever needs it.

I actually liked this system, it helps save water. One gets used to it and efficient showering is actually not that hard (demonstrating that, potentially, a lot of water is wasted). For example, hypothetically speaking, if one shampoos and soaps at the same time, one can actually enjoy good rinse time. Anyway, as long as there is hot water, I’m happy (even if it’s just a basin of it inside a tent on a hilltop in Nepal).

The Hostel Cinque Terre shower system gets unanimous vote for Most Interesting Shower on my journey.

I miss the clock and bell tower next to the village cathedral right down the steps from the hostel. Every morning at 7.30am the bell would chime. It’s am amazing alarm clock. (I guess it’s relative; any place would be amazing compared to where you’d rather not be.)

Anyway, I miss Cinque Terre. I was there end October last year, shortly before I went to the farm. I’ve seen pictures of it packed with crowds during the peak summer season; hardly a relaxing sight, so my memories of uncrowded streets and quiet trails may not be reflective of the average traveller’s.

I wonder when the critical point is when summer ends and autumn begins, that might be a nice time to visit, because a couple of weeks after I left, the villages would have shut down for winter. Then again, to be able to swim in the crystal clear waters to cool off during the summer, that’s gotta be something.

Anyway, my friend had said one day would be enough to see the villages (I guess that’s if you take the train or rush through a lot of the sights). Another backpacker said she took two days. I had originally planned to stay for three days. In the end, I stayed for five, with a day trip to Porto Venere where the Gulf of Poets lie.

Now, having seen the Five Lands and its unique, rugged and rustic beauty, and knowing now what I do about WWOOFing, maybe one day I’ll be able to return to this region and enjoy it for real.

Cinque Terre. The Five Lands. I remember the conversation quite clearly. My colleague who went backpacking around the world with her boyfriend was giving me a rundown on Italy and mentioned Cinque Terre. I had never heard of the place before, but she didn’t want to tell me much. “You just go there. You’ll love it.”

Cinque Terre is located along the Italian Riviera in the province of Liguria, Italy, southeast of Genova and west of the city of La Spezia. It comprises of five villages that lie along the rugged coastline: Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore. The coastline, the villages, and the surrounding hillsides and sea are part of the Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre, which is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

When I got off the train at Manarola, the first thing that greeted my eyes was the pure azure of the Mediterranean Sea stretching out as far as the eye can see. Sitting high on the rocky coast, the platform overlooked the sea. Nearby, homes clung on to the top of cliffs, defying the sheer drop to the crashing waves below. Behind the town, rows of grapevines terraced up the hill.

It was love at first sight.

Manarola is a small village, possibly the smallest of the five; all the villages have populations of less than a thousand. Step out the pedestrian tunnel leading from the train station and you’ll see, for lack of a better word since cars are not allowed in the villages, the main road — left takes you down to the shore, right goes up to the top of the village where the cathedral is located, right next to the only hostel in Cinque Terre.

It was off-hours and the dorm rooms were closed, so I deposited my backpack and sorted my haversack as fast as I could, and practically ran out to explore. Heading down toward the shore of Manarola took all of 5 minutes. Did I mention it was a small village?

First things first, lunch. Walked back and forth the few restaurants there, because I’m weird like that, until I found one with an ambience I liked. It helped that they were having mussels for the special of the day. I like seafood… mmmm… mussels…

Lunch done, I ventured out.

The five villages are linked by quite-frequent trains; the schedule is available at the ticket counters and tickets cost around €1-1.10, depending on the number of stops. But much more interesting are the walks along the coast that connect one village to another. The difficulties vary, and you’ll need a pass (3-day pass was €10) to access them.

There are rangers at the checkpoints who will check that you are wearing appropriate footwear before allowing you to embark on the more rugged paths that cut through the brush or skirt the vineyards. It’s for your own safety, because it’s easy for gelato-happy tourists leaving a vibrant village to forget the surrounding terrain can get quite challenging. (I wonder how many tourists get sent away — I once met two Japanese women who trekked into the Cambodian jungle in high heel shoes. Amazing.)

Anyway, it being my first day, I chose the the easiest walk, the one connecting Manarola to Riomaggiore. It’s a covered footpath most of the way, affectionately called Via dell’Amore, or Lover’s Path, maybe because it’s an easy stroll, wonderfully scenic and oh-so-romantic. Or maybe it’s because of the thousands of marker-drawn professions of love written on the walls, surpassed in number only by Casa di Giuletta in Verona.

The stroll can be covered in 20 minutes, but at one point, I looked down the slopes and saw a couple sunbathing on the rocks. Oh, you can go down to the water? And that was precisely what I did.

I found some stone steps and climbed over the chain, carefully leaving my shoes halfway down the steps (don’t ask me what the logic of that was, like if I get soaked by a big wave, at least my shoes are dry; can’t do without them dry shoes, y’know) before reaching the rocks and climbing the rest of the way down. The weather was tee-shirt warm, but being so near the water made the air cooler.

Sat on the craggy rocks, watched the waves break, watched the little pools flood and unflood, counted the Italian barnacles, and just enjoyed the Mediterranean afternoon sun.

Later, I explored the hilly village of Riomaggiore, admired the murals painted by local artisans of the farmers who toil in the vineyards, and trekked the path leading beyond Riomaggiore all the way to a lookout point on a promontory.

Returned to Manarola in time to watch the blinding sun mellow into an orange disc and disappear into the horizon in a rainbow palette of colours. My colleague was right. Cinque Terre was truly beautiful. It had everything I loved — open sky, nature and the sea. I loved it here.

On Day Two, it rained. Chilly, biting wind and a steady grey shower lashed the Ligurian coast. God has a wicked sense of humour.

www.cinqueterre.it — Consorzio Turistico Cinque Terre
virtual cinque terre

That evening, we toured around the newer part of town, tested out the beach, and then meandered through the older part of town where we were staying. We did some much needed work, and then ate a good Italian dinner making sure to sample some pesto – the local specialty.

First thing the next morning, we set out on the Cinque Terre trail, the nine kilometer path that links the five towns of the Cinque Terre. We covered seven of the nine kilometers from Monterosso to Vernazza, and Vernazza to Corniglia. The paths were very narrow with a lot of elevation changes and often criss-crossed through vineyards and olive orchards. It was a pretty challenging hike but a lot of fun and the views were spectacular. There were a wide range of hikers on the trails. Our favorites were the people with full backpacks, expedition-strength hiking boots, and trekking poles. If these people somehow got lost and ended up in the Himalayas, they’d be fully prepared. On the other end of the spectrum were hung-over looking college kids wearing flip flops.

Wanting to leave some hiking for the next day, we rode the train back from Corniglia and got a few good hours of beach time in. The weather was even nice enough to entice Jim into a quick swim. We wasted away the evening hours soaking in the views from our balcony and wine from the tap.

The weather was not quite as nice our final day on the Cinque Terre. In the morning we kicked around town and Manuel’s till early afternoon, and then caught the train to Corniglia to finish the remaining two sections of the hike. The section between Corniglia and Manarola, was much easier than the first two, and not quite as scenic but offered some great vistas from the top of several sheer cliffs. The walk from Manarola to Riomaggiore, called Via dell’ Amore (the Lover’s Walk), was short, mostly flat and paved. We took a few pictures and tried to make the twenty minute walk as romantic as possible. We opted to ride the ferry back to Monterosso and enjoyed a great sunset along the way.

Med pohajkovanjem po Toskani, se je Andreja odločila, da bova naredila manjši ovinek in obiskala še pet ribiških vasic, ki spadajo pod nacionalni park z imenom Cinque Terre. Glede na manjše razočaranje nad Toskano, lahko rečem, da je bila to najboljša ideja in obisk res priporočam. Rezervirala sva si torej cel dan, se zjutraj zapeljala do La Spezie in od tam naprej z vlakom, ki povezuje mesteca med seboj. Vlak ali ladjica? Hmmm, razlika je v ceni in voznem redu. Cena za dve karti za vlak je bila še vedno nižja od ladijske za eno osebo. Poleg tega vlak vozi v obe smeri na približno 20 minut. O vasicah, zgodovini in parku ne bom pisal. Google in Wikitravel imata vse. Moram pa omeniti res čudovito podnebje, kjer o pretirani sopari, kljub mesecu juliju ne morem govoriti.
Morda bi bilo bolje, če bi ostala še en dan in bi naredil še par nočnih posnetkov.

Več slik v galeriji…

After our hearty lunch in Vernazza, we continued our trek to village #3, Corniglia. It started to drizzle a little, but it wasn’t too bad. This time around, the trail was relatively easier. There were still some majorly steep steps to conquer, but they were not half as difficult as the trek from Monterosso.

There were some really nice pine trees that reminded me of the Salem Cool Planet ads that were on Malaysian TV when I was a kid. Speaking of pines, does anyone have any idea why pine nuts are SO expensive? I wanted to buy some at the hypermarket to make pesto, but I was taken aback to see that a small pack costs EUR 5! Perhaps its because pine trees are not common in this part of Italy? I dunno.

Pine tree

Vernazza

Bee on a flower

The sun was setting by then, and we had to quicken our pace. Along the way, I managed to capture a few shots of the beautiful sunset.

Sunset at Cinque Terre

As we traipsed along, I came across this clearing that looked like it came out of a storybook.

I wonder what is beyond the light?

There were also many olive trees that were being cultivated by the people there.

Olive Trees

Which of course means, lots of olives!

Olives! Yum!

Walk, walk, walk, and finally we reach Corniglia!

Corniglia view & Corniglia Train Station

Of course I squealed when I saw these:

Orange trees!!!!!!!!

And also these:

Soooo pretty!

Corniglia seemed like a smaller town to me. Orange and lemon trees were aplenty. I took like a gazillion pictures of them

The clear blue waters of Corniglia

The sun was rapidly setting, and we made our way to village #4 Manarola. This trek was really easy. Literally a walk in the park. The ground was flat, and there was pavement occasionally. From Corniglia, we reached Manarola in about 15 minutes or so.

View from Manarola

The village of Manarola

It would be so so so romantic to have a room in one of the houses above facing the Mediterranean Sea wouldn’t it?

And we continued on to the final village, Riomaggiore. Along the way, we passed Via dell’Amore ( Lovers Lane ).

Entrance to Via dell'Amore

As you can see, it was almost dark. We reached the final town of Riomaggiore, and although the scenery was pretty too, my camera couldn’t capture much.

Sunset at Riomaggiore

I was glad to have been able to complete all 12 km of Cinque Terre. It really is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

The HB has a tough task ahead now; to bring me to a place that is prettier than Cinque Terre!

I am sprawled on the sofa as I write this. My entire body is aching like it never has. My calves are sore, my thighs are sore, and I have to walk with a weird gait no thanks to my stressed out limbs. Why?

It is because of the trip we had yesterday. The 12km hiking+walking+climbing+struggling trail. Strenous? MOST DEFINITELY. Worth it? ABSOLUTELY. Cinque Terre is the most beautiful place I have ever been to.

Cinque Terre (pronounced as CHEEN-kweh TEHR-reh) literally means The Five Lands. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site. The Lonely Planet says that “if you miss the Cinque Terre, you will have bypassed some of Italy’s most extraordinary countryside”. I agree wholeheartedly. Perhaps I have not seen much of this world, but I think that Cinque Terre has one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. Picturesque and quaint, it would be my idea of a perfect honeymoon destination.

Cinque Terre consists of five villages; Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore.

We took a two hour drive from Modena to the train station in Levanto. On the way there, we stopped for a short break, and the weather was rather dreadful, a foggy 11 degrees.

I was worrying that the weather would be the same in Cinque Terre.

View from Levanto Train Station

But we were blessed. The weather was great. Blue skies, and the sun shining brightly. From Levanto, we took the train to the first village, Monterosso. And this is the view that greeted us.

Monterosso, Cinque Terre

It was breathtaking. The clear blue waters was as clear as could be.

Clear blue waters

We began the hike from Monterosso to the next village, Vernazza. The breathtaking view somehow misled me. I thought we would have a pretty, easy trail to Vernazza. HB told me that the hike from Vernazza to Monterosso would be the most strenous and least scenic. The word ’strenous’ is a real understatement.

It was a mostly uphill trail, consisting of rather muddy tracks and granite stairs that nearly took the life out of me. I kid you not. My muscles ached, my thighs felt as though it was about to explode. We had to stop for short breaks in between as I was feeling dizzy and out of breath. Blame it on my low blood pressure >_<

This would be an EASY trail

But I survived. All 4 km of the trek between Monterosso and Vernazza. I could have cried. Vernazza never seemed to come in sight. I felt as though I was trekking to the moon! Until I saw this:

Finally! Vernazza! I breathed a sigh of relief ( I think HB too, coz I think he was afraid that I was about to keel over, LOL ) and we trekked another 15 minutes or so to the village.

V for victory baybehhh!!

We were absolutely starving by then. As we traipsed through the piazza, the smell of yummy food wafted through the air. We looked around for a bit and plopped ourselves at Trattoria Del Capitano to have lunch.

Chef's recommendation

We had the set menu meal that cost EUR25 each without drinks.

Spaghetti "chittara" alla fantasia di mare

The first dish was pasta. I chose the seafood spaghetti, and HB had the pasta with pesto pictured below.

Pasta fresca al pesto

Anchovies

And this is what we both had for our mains. Anchovies are a specialty of Cinque Terre. And of course, gelato for dessert.

Gelato

We were also quite lucky to have witnessed a “wedding”, or well, sort of. The bride came down from her house, right behind me and walked about 200 m to the church, cheered on by family and friends, and tourists like me

After our hearty lunch, we walked around for a bit and took more pictures. It really is easy to fall in love with Cinque Terre.

Pretty view of the promenade

And then, it was time to continue our trek to village #3, Corniglia. Stay tuned for the next installment of Cinque Terre, Seconda Parte.