Cinque Terre!

I am terribly sorry that I am not allowed to upload pictures from this kiosk computer, as the views here are incredible. I have been staying in Riomaggiore, one of the Cinque Terre, in Liguria, Italy. It's on the west coast of northern Italy, along the Mediterranean, and it's got lots of rosemary, agave, prickly pear, and shockingly red poppy. The locals have built enough mortar-free stone walls (3000 miles) to rival the masonry of the Great Wall of China, all to hold their terraced vineyards up on the hills. Where they aren't growing vines, they're growing lemons. I love it here.

I hiked up to a nature sancturary on a bluff my first afternoon, then explored Riomaggiore before spending sunset on the beach. Riomaggiore has a pebbly little cove under the old railroad arches, but some of the other towns have actual sand. Yesterday, I hiked through all five towns. Riomaggiore leads to Manarola, which had a great swimming area with lots of fish. These two were the most undeveloped towns, it seemed, with fishermen heading in from their boats as the tourist flock headed out. I people-watched with a delicious espresso. Corniglia was the next town on my hike, after I climbed up the hillside to wander through Manarola's vineyards and check out it's cemetary. The cemetaries here are outside of town, to protect from disease, and they're mostly above ground, in stone crypts. Wealthy families have their own little houses, and nearly everyone's got a little stone flower vase (always full) and a photograph. Many also have a space for a light, usually holding electric candles.

Corniglia is up on a hillside, the only town without a good harbor. The locals still fish from there, though, hoisting their boats all the way up the cliffside when finished. I was temporarily out of money (1.57 Euros left) at this point, since my apartment-hostel made me pay in advance and the bank machines in the first three towns were either down or out of cash, so I couldn't splurge on a pastry. I continued along the path, more heavily forested now, to Vernazza, with a bigger "downtown" and working ATMs. After wandering town, I picked the best-looking gelateria for my first cone of the day: chocolate and pistachio. Then it was beach time for a while, alternately reading and watching the bambinos splash around sandily. I also visited the wine museum and tried the local honey (very flowery and herby) and wine specialty, a sweet, tawny white called Sciacchetra' (shah-kay-TRAH). They gave me free biscotti with it, which went nicely.

I left Vernazza a bit late, on account of my extended beach time, but I still had time to see the Oratory of the Dead and hike up to the Cappucin Monastary, a former convent. The steps up are so steep and long the locals call them the Zii di Frati, the Brothers' Switchbacks. Higher still is a great view of the old town, which lurks behind some forested hills to hide from invading pirates, and the town cemetary, filling in the ruins of an abandoned castle. It was spooky, since the sun was setting quickly by now, but what an incredible location for your remains. I met up with Olivier, my Croatian flatmate, at the train station. He's been living here for a while, selling his paintings to the tourists. We chatted a bit, then went back to Riomaggiore to catch up with Davide, my Italian roommate, and the Canadians and Atlantans who occupy the rest of the flat. I met Olivier's Dutch and Portugese friends at Bar Centrale, where they bought me a limoncelo. It was sweeter than I expected, more like a lemon drop candy than spiked lemonade. No thanks. If I was going to have sweets, I was going to have another gelato: chocolate and creme, this time. It began to rain soon after, thankfully, so we got to bed at a reasonable time.