The good news was that I was, indeed, finally going to Cinque Terre, a place I’d increasingly heard about over the past five years. Granted, I was a little late to the party as Cinque Terre lost its undiscovered status years ago, thankfully without the horrors witnessed elsewhere along the Italian coast. The bad news was that my sister and I would only have 24 hours to explore the five fishing villages perched on Italy’s Ligurian coast.We booked our hotel, the three star ‘Hotel 5 Terre’ two days beforehand based on availability and recommendations I found online, most of which described the family-run hotel as simple but boasting a most accommodating and friendly staff. When I called to ask if they would accept my small puppy, Bella, the answer was a hearty “Certo!”
The trip to the most western village in the Cinque Terre, Monterosso, is an easy 2.5-hour train ride (with one change in Pisa) from Florence, where I was based for several months. The villages are practically inaccessible by land due to the harsh, steep terrain; the benefit of this is that is has kept mass tourism at bay. The best way to see the Cinque Terre is to take the local train, which runs from La Spezia to Genoa and connects all five villages with quick and frequent service, hopping off from one village to the next. In the summer months there is a passenger ferry, Golfo dei Poeti, which we took from one village to the next (one day ticket, EUR 11.50).
Our spirits lifted as soon as we walked out of the Monterosso train station to a glorious sunny September afternoon and beach vista of sunbathers, sun-spackled sea and tiny towns peeking out from the coastline. (Our first week in Italy had been fraught with difficulties – a dump of an apartment, getting locked out of said apartment the first night, for three hours, after a long overseas flight, and a bizarre case of mistaken identity where I was verbally abused by a man who accused me of taking his son to the United States - so arriving in Monterroso al Mare was like stumbling upon a slice of heaven.)
Monterosso is the only one of the five villages that can be called a proper seaside resort, mainly because it’s the only one with a beach; two beaches in fact, one facing the old town and one just outside the train station in Monterosso al Mare, where we were staying. The two parts of town are an easy 10-minute walk from each other along the seaside promenade.
We took a cab to our hotel, not knowing it was less than a five minute walk around the corner, and checked into our simple but clean room. The staff made a fuss over Bella (as most everyone in Cinque Terre would) and the proprietress happily agreed to ‘puppy-sit’ so we could head to the beach for a couple hours (dogs are only allowed at the public beach, which is quite off the main track, and all the other beaches are private, meaning one has to rent an umbrella, and this is vigorously enforced).
Bella on the beach at Monterosso al Mare.
Panorama of Monterosso
Desperate as I was to have a swim in the ocean but forgetting my swimsuit back in Florence, I bought the cheapest one I could find (15E on sale) and paid an outrageous 10E for two beach chairs and an umbrella, at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Was it worth it? You bet. The beach itself isn’t foot-friendly with its hard pebbles, but floating around in the (almost) warm water for an hour, gazing back at the coastline, and my sister huddled under her beach umbrella, was as good an approximation of nirvana as any.
On the beach.After a twilight walk down the promenade, we headed around the bend and followed a path into the Capuccini hills and around the 16th century monastery. By now it was dark and we were alone, unable to read our map and unsure where the path led. Just as we were about to turn around, the final bend opened up to a lovely nighttime panorama of the old town laid out below, twinkling with lights. This quaint image was suddenly interrupted by a train rumbling through an overpass, bizarrely running through the middle of town before it quickly disappeared back into the side of the mountain. We would learn that the train is a constant presence in these villages, the only parts of the coast where the line emerges from the tunnels.
The monastery and hill dividing Monterosso proper (on the right) from Monterrosso al Mare.We headed back via the convenient tunnel and plopped ourselves down at a beachside trattoria, where I had a sumptuous local pasta dish, trofie al pesto - pasta made with flour and water, no eggs, and rolled by hand into squiggly shapes and served with basil pesto. I washed it down with a glass of the local white wine (okay, two), simply called ‘Cinque Terre’ and marveled at how such a simple dish could taste so wonderful.
On our second day, after a nice buffet breakfast at the hotel (included with our room), we decided to take the Golfo dei Poeti ferry directly to the furthest town from us, Riomaggiore, then make our way back, town by town, throughout the day. The ferry doesn’t stop in Corniglia, high up in the hills, but this would give us the afternoon to visit the remaining three towns; a quick trip to be sure, but a chance to get an overview for a longer visit in the future.
With its cluster of colorful houses seemingly sliding down the ravine, hopelessly picturesque Riomaggiore evokes images of Positano on the Amalfi Coast – the non-Disney version: smaller, less touristy, less pristine, but perhaps more charming for those very reasons. Overlooking the village is the parish church of Saint John the Baptist, built in 1340. There’s even the requisite 16th century castle. I noticed a lot of camare (rooms) for rent signs, often in a local’s home. If I had to pick a favorite village, Riomaggiore would be it. Most tourists arrive here to do the The Lovers’ Path (“La Via dell’Amore”), a scenic 20-minute walk linking Riomaggiore to Manarola, and the easiest portion of the famous Sentiero #2, or Sentiero Azzuro, the 11 km trail that connects the five villages.
View of Riomaggiore from the ferry.
Panorama of Riomaggiore(Along the trail, Bella’s sun visor (“capolino”) attracted the attention of six lovely French schoolchildren and, having something of the circus performer in her poodle-self, she dutifully hammed it up for them, giving licks to all. I lost count of how many smiles, laughter, photo-taking and general hilarity and conversation her visor prompted throughout the day.)
Bella and friends.Sheltered in a gorge between two promontory rocks lies the little port of Manarola, with a grotto-like bathing area off to the side where some local teens were diving off the rocks. Smaller and quieter than the other villages, Manarola offered relaxing streets to wander around and seemed to be the most authentic fishing village. It's also the center of the wine and olive oil production of the region, and its streets are lined with shops selling local products.
Manarolo
Panorama of Manarolo
The view pulling into Vernazza’s dramatic harbor is probably the most picturesque of the day: brightly colored houses, a romantic-looking watchtower and a tiny harbor full of fishing boats combine to make it postcard-perfect. On the right side of the harbor, perched halfway up the tower, is an impossibly charming terraced restaurant with blue umbrellas and unforgettable views. We arrived at 3pm, just as they were stopping lunch service, but I would head back there in an instant for lunch or dinner just to take in that view again.
Vernazza
Panorama of Vernazza
Back in Monterosso, hours past our scheduled departure, we settled in for a glass of wine on a beachside patio while waiting for our train. I was sad to leave so soon; in fact, I had tried to persuade my sister to stay another day, but we had sightseeing plans back in Florence. I promised myself that one day I would come back and devote at least four or five days to this beautiful land.
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