Cinque Terre

Rick Steeves probably has a lot to answer for! When he first wrote about this region decades ago, they were five, sleepy unknown villages perched on cliffs overlooking the ocean just north of Viareggia and La Spessia. Today, there are avalanches of visitors — clogging the trails between the villages, town streets, eateries and the shuttle trains daily between about ten in the morning and 4:30 in the afternoon. Day Trippers from Florence or cruise passengers being corralled by flag-toting guides. Most, like us, are there to experience those extraordinary trails with breath-taking views and the villages – each with their own personality. However you do happen to notice certain groups of people along the way … the younger, spandex-coated crowd with sporty backpacks and hiking boots … the older, well-tanned set tentatively tapping (or dragging) their walking poles across perfectly flat plazas or wielding them to point out some elevated item of interest, narrowly missing a swath of travelling companions, small children and dogs … there were couples in matching polyester – nattily quaffed and draped with long-lensed cameras … and of course what demanding hiking trail would be complete without fashionably-attired young women in skimpy footwear, perfect makeup and glossy two inch nails. There was even one shaky old dear nursing half a glass of beer as she set off. Had no-one told her just how many uneven steps there were ahead of her?

With a change in the weather predicted, we cunningly planned ahead. Leaving most of our stuff back at the apartment in Lucca we just took backpacks with essentials and a few bits of food … then hopped on the train to Riomaggiore … the first, and some say, prettiest, of the villages. It was a gloriously sunny day — t-shirt weather, as we wandered the steep streets, colourful houses draped over the hillside to the picture-perfect harbour below. Ferries traversed the five villages, so what could be better than a short cruise to the next one – Manarola. Sadly though, the quay was not operational that day, and as Corniglia (the place we were staying) didn’t have ferry access (it’s waaay up the hillside), we carried on to the fourth village — Vernazza (the most popular). From the ferry each village was unbelievably photogenic in the afternoon sun. After exploring some of the less busy streets and the magnificent view from the castle it was time for the shuttle train to Corniglia — the quietest of the villages. It doesn’t have a beach (and apparently it’s a MUST to swim hereabouts no matter the water temperature) … there are also 383 steps up to the town centre! There is a bus that shuttles people up from the station … it’s only tiny and everyone gets jammed in like anchovies and is instantly intimate with the six people immediately under your armpits as you cling desperately to the handrails and overhead straps on the wild trip up.

Now to find the apartment. The English description was not particularly clear so we translated from the Italian and the rather quirky descriptions eventually became clear… and we were in. Small but everything to hand …. and the VIEW from our little terrace! A valley and vineyards in front …. town on one side …. coast the other. We sat with beverage in hand and listened as a carillon of bells rang out from the local church along with a chorus of evening bird song. You couldn’t ask for a more idyllic spot.

Next morning, before the trails became crowded we set off. One advantage to starting a trek from Corniglia, is that you are already a significant way up the hill. The trail to Manarola had washed out a couple of years ago in a major landslide – it’s presently being repaired with hopes of opening this July, but not open right now. The only options were a high 4 hour goat path south to Manarola … or a one-and-a-half to two hour one north to Vernazza. Definitely a good work out. The path was uneven rock with hundreds of steps in varying heights and angles … but the vistas were worth every puff. Dry rock walls had become home to clumps of purple and orange wallflowers, poppies, dainty lady’s slipper and brilliant stars of magenta ice plants and other succulents. Primrose-yellow Cape Sorrel (although an introduced plant) filled the woodland and grassy patches with sunny colour, while patches of white scillia nodded their bell-like heads in the breeze.

Exactly half way was a cafe/bar. Perfect to sip freshly squeezed orange juice or nibble a pastry while contemplating the stunning cliff-top sea views, and the remainder of the journey (all down hill from here). There were more people on the trail now … mostly climbing up from Vernazza … definitely the steeper way. At narrow spots you’d step to the side and oncoming traffic would offer up thank you’s in a variety of languages. It was fun to answer “you’re welcome” correspondingly . . . prego … de rien … de nada … bitte. Descending into town there were amazing photo opportunities, however it was here that ‘the abominable tourist’ made their appearance. The ones who push in front to take their photo, despite others waiting patiently … or insist on two dozen ‘selfies’ with every member of the party… in various poses! No worries, we’d had a not-to-be forgotten morning. This is a Rick Steeves video on the area – about 25 mins https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WP316ABiTt0

We didn’t hang about … just hurried to the seething masses on the station platform (the security guards have their hands full keeping people behind the yellow lines and not falling onto the tracks). Back to our peaceful terrace for lunch … crackers, cream cheese, a tin of smoked mackerel … and some outstanding local pesto. A glorious combination. It was entertaining watching the goings on in the village … a diminutive blue truck industriously to and fro-ing … the community bus disgorging its latest load of passengers in the square before performing a tight turnaround for the trip back down … there was something going on behind the church as cheers and applause echoed over to us … but we were too lazy and comfortable to go and find out!

As predicted, the rain clouds drifted in, but no matter, we’d found just the place for dinner … a covered sidewalk focacciaria. Tall glasses of beer … a sumptuous salad of fresh greens, marinated octopus, lemon, tomatoes, and olives (both black and green) with fingers of warm bread to mop up … this was followed by a pillowy soft but crisp focaccia smothered in cheese, semi-dried yellow tomatoes and pine nuts, and drizzled with pesto. It was a meal you didn’t want to end.

As we packed up to leave the following morning one of those mechanical mountain-side carts was slowly trundling up and down …. how on earth do they keep upright? https://9gag.com/gag/aQXPjKe The skies had cleared again so we stopped in to see Manarola. NOW we can see why the ferry didn’t stop here the other day. This is a real fishing village … the small boats are all pulled up the ramp and stored along the main street … but it’s the rocky harbour that makes you gasp. A narrow entrance with viscious-looking rocks, and today, huge waves pounding in. But what a sight. This has to be the most picturesque, and dramatic of the Cinque Terre.

A visit to the remarkable Naval Maritime Museum in La Spezia – presenting Italy’s maritime history -1460 to present. Everything from handsome, oversized models in full sail with eye-wateringly meticulous detail to flotillas of modern military vessels, recovered portions of war-time submarines, torpedoes to diving suits. Excellent way to spend an afternoon and end our trip to the coast.