May 16th
My, my, my, Monterosso… you have out done yourself. Cinque
Terre, especially the lovely town of Monterosso, has been an exceptional hostess. She greeted us with
her twinkling teal coast, kept us warm with a blanket of sunny skies, and
filled out bellies with her finest local feasts. Man I hope she invites us back
again soon.
We both woke up at a time most people would probably
consider sinfully early for vacation. We weighed our options knowing that this
sleepy coastal village doesn’t wake up until 9am and we couldn’t get breakfast for
a few more hours. So we set out with our
camera and walking shoes to greet the sun as it crept over the hillside. There
is something so alluring about sunrise and sunset. We gravitate to those times
of the day no matter where we are in the world.
This sunrise was special in that despite being in town, we got to
experience it all to ourselves. In the entire 1 ½ - 2 hours we scoured around
we saw only one other person- a silver haired woman sweeping the entry way of
her seaside gelateria.
We wandered up the hill that stands between the old and new
side of the village, enjoying sweeping views of both the city and the ocean as
we made our way to the top. Along the
way we found a tiny church tucked neatly behind tall flora engulfed walls. Not
too far above the church we discovered a disheveled brick staircase that led to
a sprawling ocean-view cemetery. Immensely intrigued we eagerly made our way up the steps to explore this
sacred area. I surprised to see that the headstones weren’t all that old. Most dated
back to the mid-late 19th century and we found a few marble etchings
from as recently as last November. A pile of crumbled headstones ripped from
there perch along a wall was another solemn reminder of last October’s
torrential storm.
Content with our early morning excursion we headed back down
the hill for our next adventure: breakfast! Typically even if our hotel offers
breakfast we choose to find a local café or restaurant in search of a more
authentic dining experience. However thanks to online reviews we were very
aware of the wonderful spread including homemade jam, local focaccia, and made
to order cappuccino awaiting us back at the hotel. To kick it up a notch we took
our treats, errr breakfast, to the rooftop terrace to be enjoyed. Ahhh,
perfecto.
All hopped up on espresso we boarded the morning train to
Riomaggore, the southern most of the 5 villages that make up Cinque Terre. Our goal was to visit all 5 towns and enjoy a
modest cup or cone of gelato in each. Oh ya, and to see the cool villages ‘n
stuff too. I’m happy to report that we successfully met our lofty goal with a
little room to spare for dinner. Not just any gelato would do either; we were
quite discretionary when selecting the frozen delight that would take up
valuable tummy space. In Riomaggorie we experienced the one and only subpar
gelato that was clearly not homemade. It was somewhat clumpy and the texture
was similar to an icee or sorbet, nothing like the creamy concoctions we were
used to. Without hesitation we ditched our barely touched cones when we happened
upon the gelateria endorsed by good ‘ol Rick Steves himself. After that mishap
we were conscious to ensure that only gelaterie proclaiming they served Gelato
Artigianale, meaning artisanal or homemade, made the cut. Lesson learned.
From Riomaggore we took the footpath to the next town,
Manorola. The “hike” between to two towns is truly more of a laid back stroll
along the coast. About halfway through the trail there was a little bar/café
nestled into the cliff that was slanging ocean view espresso and cocktails for
the weary traveler. Well of course we obliged. Suspended high over the Italian
Riviera we sipped our drinks and tried our hardest to freeze time.
We spent a lot of time in Riomaggore wandering around and
taking photos at the water’s edge. In order to visit all 5 towns we kicked up
the pace slightly once we reached the neighboring town of Manorola. Manorola
felt much quieter than Montorosso but had a plethora of little produce shops
displaying their goodies along the cobbled streets. The main market area was
smaller than the other towns but very, very cute. We only stopped to grab our
gelato sample (for research purposes) and a slice of pizza for Marcus before
heading to the next town, Corniglia. We started on the hike to Corniglia only
to find that it was closed about ¼ of the way through. Come to find out only
two of the trails between all 5 towns were open due to the storm damage. We
were a little disappointed but the thought of kicking back on the train between
each town wasn’t so bad either.
We quickly arrived by train to Corneglia, a town nestled
high upon the coastal cliffs and known for its plentiful vineyards. There are
two ways to get to the top: climb the 382 steps or ride a bus. We did neither
of the two. We started up the road thinking it would be quicker than the steps
and didn’t realize there was a bus until it zipped passed us on our walk. Oh
well, a little exercise never hurts and we did get some great views looking
over the vineyards into the sea below. Corniglia used to bottle its unique wine
in very distinct bottles that signified that it was true Corniglia wine. This
tradition is so long standing that these treasured bottles have even been found
by archeologists in Pompeii. Unfortunately we didn’t find this nifty pieces of history
ourselves but did buy some other uniquely shaped wine bottles while we were
there.
On to Vernazza, a common favorite amongst previous travelers.
It was also the town hit the hardest by the floods last fall, with Monterosso
in close 2nd. Stepping off the train it was impossible to ignore that
the town was still badly beaten and bruised. Walking down the steps from the
station into town we were met with a wall sized poster exhibiting photos of the
town’s people cleaning up the mess the storm had left behind. Solemn faces
stared back at us, dirt on their cheeks and shovels in their hands. The love that
the people have for their town was overwhelming and poured out from every photo
on that wall. It was incredibly touching to see the hard work and sacrifice the
people who live there have made and continue to make in order to restore their
once immaculate town. Like a diamond buried in a mine, I have no doubt they
will continue to work until they unearth the sparkling beauty that lies beneath
the rubble.
After a sobering walk through what remains of the humble
town we spotted the first and only gelateria we saw in Vernazza. It was here that we met the Gelato Nazi, much
like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. The impatient the man behind the counter was clearly
irritated every single person who ordered before us. From what we gathered he really wanted
everyone to order a certain way or you got swift and rather rude “service.” As counter got closer we became a little
nervous. Finally up, we tried our best to order in his preferred method,
whatever it was, and hurried away with our gelato before he changed his mind.
Well I can see why he was so rude. With gelato like that people will keep
coming back for more no matter how poorly you treat them. Venice still holds
the number one spot for gelato so far but this little nugget in Vernazza is a
VERY close runner up.
The rugged trail between Vernazza and Monterosso was the
only other coastal trail open at this time. We started up the path but didn’t
make it far. After talking to a few travelers on the trail that had just
completed the trek we decided it could be cut from the itinerary for the day.
It was nearing 7pm by the time we made it to the trail and other hikers were
reporting it took them 2-3 hours to get between the towns. Add to that the
bottles of wine we acquired in Corniglia that would have to accompany us on our
trudge to town and it was a fairly easy decision to take the train instead. Now
we have just one more reason to return, as if we needed any more.
Back in town and cleaned up we had dinner at Belvedere at
the recommendation of the hotel receptionist. The restaurant has one of the
best locations of them all, situated just a few yards from the beach. We sat at
a scenic patio table and settled in to have a slow Italian style meal. If the
rest of Italy treats our taste buds this well it’s going to be nearly
impossible to ever leave. We both agree that our meal at Belvedere was one the
absolute best meals we’ve ever had. The ringer? Believe it or not, the pesto
pasta. Simple linguini pasta perfectly cooked and smothered in freshly married
basil, olive oil, parmesan, and pine nuts. Marcus said he doesn’t even want to
have pesto again because nothing will ever compare. I won’t commit to never eat
pesto again but rather try to recreate it at home… and buy some to bring home
of course; I’ll need a prototype to emulate. In addition to the unrivaled pesto
pasta I had an unbelievable fish soup that in itself would be well worth
another trip to Monterosso.
Aside from the top notch feast, we had a fun time at dinner
guessing where the people around us were from. It involves a little
eavesdropping and refined observational skill. I suck at it, especially after
sharing a liter of wine (that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it). We took bets
and tried to either overhear where our neighboring diners were from or somehow
work it into conversation so a winner could be crowned. For the young couple
dressed in khakis with a polo and sun dress I bet Midwest and Marcus wagered East
coast. He won, an embarrassing quote was born, and I’ll leave it at that. We
laughed all the way back to our hotel at the fool I made of myself. Fat and
happy, we will sleep well tonight as dreams of pesto dance through heads.