7/29: Trampin’ Through Cinque Terre

On our first morning in Vernazza, we enjoyed a lovely round of instant coffee in the room--our hosts really shouldn’t have spoiled us like that. There was nothing in-room for food unless you like sugar packets, so we ventured out to find a market. We bought a big loaf of bread, chunk of brie, and layers of prosciutto from a nearby vendor, then ate on another boulder along the jetty so we could people-watch.

After breakfast, we decided to tackle the hiking routes. “Cinque Terre” means “five lands” in Italian, and refers to five fishing villages within (relative) walking distance along the Ligurian coastline. The area has long since been discovered as great for hikers--in fact, I hiked these trails as one of many college spring-breakers back in 2003--so the Italian government moved to turn the area into a protected national park. The upside to this is that the trails would be maintained and safer; the downside is that the “park” could now charge people to walk through it.

ABOVE: Our dear Vernazza viewed from the path to Monterosso.

We thus started our hiking day by purchasing two Cinque Terre Treno cards(10€ each, or about $30 total), which allowed us unlimited access to trails and trains for one day in the park. We then ventured toward Monterosso, the northernmost village of the Cinque Terre.

The hike was maybe an hour long, with sporadic shade from the hot sun. We quickly grew glad that we’d brought water bottles with us. The trail wove around the hills along the coastline, offering many scenic overlooks. We encountered several dozen other tourists making the hike, and at least one woman wearing makeup and shoes that had no business on a hiking trail. You know you’re in Italy when the park warnings advise against high heels on the path.

ABOVE: I am noticeably NOT wearing high heels.

When we reached Monterosso, we descended into the village and explored its immediate environs. The beach was loaded with umbrellas and tourists (this was the only village of the Cinque Terre that had a legitimate beach), so we only glanced their way before walking inland. Annie enjoyed her first look at the local churches, which had black & white candy-striped columns, inside and out.

After refilling our water bottles at a conveniently-located fountain, we boarded a train bound for Riomaggiore, the southernmost village of the Cinque Terre. Unfortunately, we encountered some type of park enforcement official on the train, who hassled and ticketed us because we didn’t stamp our train card as well as our park card. It was only a 5€ fine, but it sat ill with us on principle more than anything.

ABOVE: Riomaggiore's narrow harbor, beautiful buildings, and colorful boats.

Upon our arrival in Riomaggiore, we explored a couple streets and then found our way to this village’s beach--if you could call it that. The “beach” was reached by narrow walkway around the bend from the village’s harbor, and it was covered with rocks and boulders of various sizes. These rocks, in turn, were covered with Italians and tourists, so we balked at the opportunity to fight through the crowds for water access.

ABOVE: Beach?

Instead, we found the park trail out of Riomaggiore: this section that led toward Manarola was the most tourist-friendly, and was dubbed the “Via del Amore” (Lover’s Lane). It was easy going, and we stopped along the way when we found steps leading down to the water at an area that wasn’t crowded. This was our first time swimming in the ocean since Greece, and it was great! We were burning up, and the Ligurian Sea was cold, so it felt very refreshing.

ABOVE: Annie, graceful and elegant.

After drying out for a short while, we climbed back up to the Lover's Lane and hiked to Manarola, which was a pretty, if somewhat narrow, fishing village. The village offered lots of rocky areas for sunbathing and cliff jumping. The hiking path from here to Corniglia was blocked, and we learned why when we walked around the bend and saw a landslide that had taken out the path.

ABOVE: The "Lovers" Bench along the Lane--where Annie & I obscure our disgust for PDA.

With the hiking option nixed by Mother Nature, we took a train from Manarola to Corniglia, and ascended the 380+ steps to the small town at the highest altitude of the five villages.

ABOVE: Lots of steps. Anyone have a Sherpa?

There was not too much to explore aside from a few narrow streets and a lovely view of the other villages, so we spent maybe twenty minutes in Corniglia, then retraced our route back down to the train station. We were blistered from our sandals, overheated from the day, and hungry, so we caught a train back to Vernazza rather than make the hike.

ABOVE: View of Manarola from our perch atop Corniglia.

We showered off the sea grime and dirt, dressed, then set out for a harbor side restaurant. Annie ordered for us: marinated mussels appetizer, prawn macaroni for her, trofie de pesto (the local specialty) for me, and a bottle of house wine to wash it down: 60€ total. We agreed, though, that with the cost came the quality. It was the best meal we'd eaten since Germany.

After dining, we walked back up through town, where a band was cranking up some tunes in a small nook along the main path. Their chosen venue was a small courtyard, and we pitied any families or tourists in the rooms above who were hoping for an early night's sleep. We bought gelato to enjoy along with the music: limone for Annie, mint chocolate for me. We watched the band play a few numbers, savored our dessert, then retired for the night.

July 29 Cinque Terre Album:

Cinque Terre: July 29, 2011