Cinque Terre exploring

I would be lying if I said this euro trip wasn’t conducted out of a need to see this place.  20 years ago when I passed through, I had no idea what it was all about.  A group of people on my bus had said that it was a group of small fishing villages and you had to carry your luggage up many stairs and hills to get to the accommodation.  I was instantly put off by the idea.  It wasn’t until much later I realised what I had missed out on and this was a must see for me.  I had VERY HIGH expectations, and generally worried that I had built this place up too much and could only be disappointed when I actually got there.

Firstly - the kids did remarkably well getting here.  We were all shitty and sniping at each other by the end of the day, but we had taken 3 trains and a shuttle to get here.  Secondly, I need to acknowledge our pack mule Gareth.  We have a good system going now, and every now and then Kaia tries to throw a spanner in the works wanting to be helpful, demanding that she carries one of the pieces of luggage.  But actually, I carry Kaia’s, Zach carries his, and our pack mule Gareth carries his luggage plus mine.  And we all have backpacks, Gareth and I having all the electronics on our backs.

We have also learnt that tired, plus hungry equals explosive outbursts from everyone.  So we have gotten better at getting that earlier train, finding a local bakery outside of the station, having breakfast and getting food for the train.  Italy has been exceptionally good for pizza takeaway slices.

We decided the next morning we would train to Riomaggiore, do a walk around the coast (only 1.4km apparently) to the next village Manarola, and then use the ferries to get to Vernazza and Monterosso.  

We arrived in Riomaggiore, and it's just like a postcard.  And because we are there early in the morning on the first train, the sleepy village is only starting to come to life.  This means, when we randomly walk up some steps to see the view of Riomaggiore and stumble onto a cliff top cafe overlooking the village, my expectations are blown away.  Coffee and some sort of bread ensemble with feta, sun dried tomatoes and balsamic vinegar overlooking the little port area where the boats come in and out and I'm speechless.  The Cafe comes complete with its resident dog who does what he feels like, again in a magical place the kids remember the animals they saw not the surrounding environment.

Mid morning we make our way to where we can see the walking track along the cliff’s edge, and we look up and comment on the hikers going across the hill track saying - aren’t you glad that's not us going up that massive hill.  Gareth is the only one not to share in mine and the kids' relief.

We walk along the track using as best we can the GPS - which just should be a guide in most of Europe and before we know it, somehow we are not on that lovely coastal track with a sea breeze, we are on the hikers track staring up at an imposing hill we can’t even see the top of.  

Ah fuck it.  Let's just do it.  Gareth wanted to do a hike and this is a “small” one.  The littlest monster can’t do these experiences without having a good old fashion complaint session on repeat so Gareth has to kick into that “Tony Robbins'' motivation level to keep her going.  At the top it's me that slows everyone down.  I had found a bottle of wine I used to drink as a teenager and before I knew it had downed the bottle the night before.  So hungover (that shit is nasty) and dehydrated, I am in the shade sculling water to keep the dizzy spells at bay.

The view is spectacular, the endorphins from the walk are in full force, we eat and rest and then make our way to the coastal part of Manarola.  Wow. 

The ruggedness of the rocks and cliffs, combined with the crystal clear water are so inviting.  But we still have a bunch of other villages to see so I made the decision that this isn’t going to be the place we swim MUCH to the disgust of Zach.  He had his heart set on cliff jumping.

We find where the ferry leaves from (you kinda just have to find a flat platform probably 3x3m) and make our way to Vernazza.  This is probably the most photo’d village and we all get to jump off the wharf area when the ferry leaves.  And I realise I haven’t really talked about the water in the south.  It's noticeably colder than the pacific but it's much saltier as well.  It stings when it gets in your eyes or up your nose, and as Kaia challenged me to bombs off the wharf my sinuses got a good clean out.  We didn’t bother to swim in the inner area of the harbour at Vernazza, nowhere near as clean and full of people who can’t swim.

Monterosso is our last stop as the ferry can’t drop you at Corniglia and it's so different from the others.  It's much more commercial, and more populated with people.  I think this is because it's the flattest of the terre’s, but for me, the most underwhelming.  Personal preference is for a more natural untouched environment, whereas Monterosso has beaches with umbrellas and you have to pay to use the beach.  That's just something I can’t gel with - paying for access to a beach.

At the end of a good day, we realise we don’t know where the train is, we walk the wrong way, and have to power walk with Kaia doing her usual panic, stressed I want to cry but I'm too out of breath to do it walk.

A good day had by all, but i’m ruined, the kids are ratty, Gareth is unfazed and we are going to get up early and go again the next day.