Cinque Terre

The Let's Go travel guide describes the five villages of Cinque Terre as 'untouched by time'. I had my doubts. Perhaps the last few restless years have rendered me a bit of a cynic, but it seems that there are very few places that have remained untouched by time, least of all any place listed in a tour book.

It is rare, I think, for me to start off one of these posts on such a sour note, but I feel I should qualify my impressions of this place with some of my impressions on coming here.

It seemed impossible to me that a place that came recommended by so many people, and that was on the itinerary of just about every traveller that we met, could possibly still keep the feeling and atmosphere of a remote fishing village. I think that I've travelled a little too much to still have faith in the idea of 'unspoiled' places, as it seems that it only takes a few tourists cruising through to get the minds of the locals turning, trying to think of what the encounter could mean for them.

And so I came here with some trepidation. Getting off at the train station did nothing to alleviate my feelings, as we disembarked into a human circus of travellers of every stripe swarming in and out of the station. The gift shops at the station had the standard fare; the place mats, commemorative shot glasses, sun hats and beach accessories. I was actually laughing as we walked through it all.

The rain that had been pouring down cleared by morning, and we awoke to clear skies above the mountains surrounding the town we were in. We decided to set out directly on the hike between the villages for which we had come, but even before we got to the trail I had to admit that small stretch of coast we were on was beautiful in the morning light.

We started on the path, which curled along the outer edge of the cliffs along the coastline. We were about fifteen minutes into the hike (about the amount of time it takes to give someone the inclination not to turn back) when we came across a small ticket booth set incongruously on the side of the path among some bushes. My former misgivings returned, and I grudgingly forked over the ten dollars it would take to allow us to continue our hike.

No Italian town is complete without a few towers...	"I love this country: you can watch all the yumminess grow!"

There is, of course, more to the story about why I was so crusty at that point, but then, this is the Cinque Terre page, and not the Aaron-is-getting-old-and-crusty-page (currently under construction). The crustiness is partly from the fact that Laura have been tourists almost continuously for the past few years, to the point where you begin to question it all. But that, as they say, is another story...

Slowly the sloping mountains with their steep vinyards, the seaside cliffs with the sound of the surf crashing against them and the iridescent blue of the sea cast against the rugged coast began to chip away at my grudge. Even had I been determined to dislike the area, every time we came around the end of another of the peninsulas and were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the next, I found myself falling for the place more and more.

The coastline is very reminiscent of what we saw in Corfu, and represents one of the most beautiful geographical combinations I can think of; mountains cascading into the sea. The lower edges of the cliffs are outlined in frothy white by the crashing waves of the crystal-blue waters below.

The villages themselves consist of pastel-cloured plaster houses clustered on the edges of rocky promontories, with winding, narrow footpaths between the buildings and cheerful courtyards overlooking the sea.

The hike, too, was amazing. Walking through the olive grove and vinyards, Laura was prompted to let loose one of her timeless quotables: "I love this country...you can watch all the yumminess grow." And it's true. When we were in Colle Lungo, the grape vines were only just beginning to grow, and the olive trees had almost no trace of their fruit. Now the vines in their rows are beginning to sag with the weight of the grapes, and the olives have become recognizable (though not quite edible) on the ends of the branches. And that is what you walk through as you pick your way along this remarkable stretch of coast, all set on the beautiful backdrop of the Mediterranean.

Now if I was to give practical advice to anyone planning on doing the hike, I would recommend starting the hike in Monterosso and hiking between the first three villages, as those are the most picturesque (but also the most difficult) stretches of coast.

I would also say that for anyone coming and not planning on hiking; expect to find more tourists than fisherman!

Everything being considered, Cinque Terre is a place of almost staggering beauty. The landscape, the architecture and the trails that bring them all together make for one of the prettiest places I have ever seen.