stranded

Picture this. An Italian villa high on the hill sides overlooking a small fishing village all in shades of ochre and peach. The villa has a terrace that’s surrounded with a vine covered in masses of intense purple flowers and shaded by several fig trees just beginning to fruit. A zephyr blows in from the Mediterranean sea, cooling the evening to a pleasant 25 degrees as we lounge, drinking our wine and beer.

As you can imagine, we were ropeable to learn that we were to be stranded in this place. Damn the flaky Italian rail system. Damn them.

So instead of the prescribed 3 nights spent in the delightful little town of Riomaggiore, the first (or last depending on where you start) village of the Cinque Terre, we had to endure one night extra. All jokes aside though, it was by far and away the most beautiful place I have been to on the ramble thus far. The main reason to go to the Cinque Terre is the trail that connects these five (cinque) villages (terre = lands). It’s a path, sometimes only a goat trail that passes through train stations, terraced vineyards, olive groves, small alleys and cliff top outcrops. We did this on the first full day there and I loved every minute of it.

After knocking the walk over there isn’t a whole lot left to do in the Italian Riviera. We swam, we drank some local wine, went out for dinner... I believe we went for a night swim at some point. Most of our remaining days were spent at Monterosso, the largest of the five towns, swimming and sunbaking.

I couldn’t think of a better place for the Italians to be moody.