CINQUE TERRE
The anticipation is important. When I take first-time visitors to the Cinque Terre, I always have a plan, and the plan is to hike. Starting in Monterosso, we climb into the hills, up one narrow stone staircase after another, following the path across bridges and through lemon groves until sweat beads at our temples and shirts plaster to our backs. Energy flags, the ascent seems endless, but suddenly, there is the view: the seaside village of Vernazza with its curving harbour and jumble of pastel buildings the size of Legos from this height, perched in a spot where nature intended nothing but towering cliffs dropping into the Mediterranean.
Longtime residents of this region, on Italy’s northwestern coast, love to debate the merits of the Cinque Terre’s many trails. The main footpath, the Sentiero Azzurro, is often deemed too crowded, although it’s for good reason. The impact of this particular vista, a gut punch of natural beauty, never fails to impress. Even after more than 10 years of hiking this trail, I still reach for my camera every time.
Later, after a long descent, the trail eventually culminates in Vernazza, where there are few signs of the landslides that nearly wiped out the village and neighbouring Monterosso in 2011. Before that disaster, the harbour was the perfect post-hike swimming hole. On calm summer days, turquoise water would lap over smooth stones that were cool and slippery beneath hot feet as you waded into the sea.
Today the reinforced harbour has more concrete than natural stone. But the same panorama, seen from aboard the ferry as it departs from the quay, is just as memorable. Then Vernazza recedes from view, again a tiny puzzle piece in the cinematic Cinque Terre coast.