A Little Slice of Heaven

No, I'm actually not talking about food this time. Not a cake nor a tart nor a pie of any sort. You don't believe that I would call something "a slice of heaven" if it weren't covered in chocolate ganache, do you? I don't blame you; you know me well.

But alas, it is actually a national park I speak of. And it's different than any national park you might know in America or Australia. We're not talking rivers and grassland, camping and bird watching. We're talking about five tiny, centuries-old villages perched along a mountainous stretch of the Mediterranean coast in northwestern Italy. We are talking about Cinque Terre.

Cinque Terre (pronounced cheen-kway terr-ay) means Five Lands and refers to the five villages that were built by hand into the hillsides over the centuries, documented back to approximately 500 AD. More amazing than just the villages themselves are the crops that have been painstakingly terraced into the hillsides; their main yield being mostly grapes for wine, as far as I can tell. These hills aren't exactly of "rolling" caliber, however, they are steep, forbidding cliffs that are literally being held together by the crops growing on them. It would have been quite a feat to build.

Which always makes me wonder - why did these people plant crops and build villages here? You see this time and again in human history: groups of people overcoming massive obstacles in their locale of choice for what seems like no real reason. Couldn't these people suck it up and move their stuff down the coast a few miles where the mountains aren't so heinous? I suppose in a lot of cases it's literally impossible to understand all the reasons that went into these types of decisions. Makes the world a more interesting place, doesn't it?

Ok, I digress. Back to it. The villages themselves are a bit like Disneyland. The pastel painted, boxy little structures all crammed together with laundry lines dangling from the windows are totally out of travel magazines and story books. Even walking through the towns I was amazed that it was real.

I think if you look up "quaint" in the dictionary, you may find a picture of one of these adorably run-down, ticky-tacky buildings with a cuddly, squishy, shawl-clad Italian woman out front selling fruit to passersby. I bought a pear. I restrained the urge to hug this woman and her half-toothed grin. I can now see how fairy tales were created.

On a related note, these people actually use the phrase "Mamma mia!". I giggle with delight each time.

There are hiking trails that lead between the five towns and all up in the hills (mountains, really) behind, and the whole area is a national park and, more recently, a UNESCO World Heritage site. All this helps preserve the area just the way it is - no roads for cars, no new buildings, limited tourist traffic (though there are plenty of tourists, I assure you), etc.

Let's start with the furthest town southeast, Riomaggiore. We stayed in this town in a tiny apartment up a ridiculously steep staircase (no elevator) down a teeny little alley. Picture this with all the cuteness possible and no worries of thieves or even beggars. It's all the old-world charm without the burden of social degradation attached. See why I say heaven? Here's Riomaggiore as seen from the peninsula outcropping near the marina:


As for the rest of the towns, they're all pretty similar until you get to the northwest most city, Monterossa, which is more beach-y and modern. It's also less awesome, in my opinion, but we weren't there for too long, so, hard to say. Anyway, here's a one-pic summary of each of the towns:

Manarola:
Corniglia:


Vernazza:

and Monterosso:

As for a favorite village, I would have to say that they seem to all have their charms: Riomaggiore was the perhaps the most photogenic while Manarola appeared to have the most bustling main street. Corniglia seemed to be the quietest and Vernazza had the best piazza on the marina with umbrella-covered restaurants a-plenty. Monterosso was the best if you like beach bummin', but we don't so there wasn't much for us there. I would probably say that Vernazza would be my fav, but they really were all so, so cool.

For the full gamut of pictures, including a couple from our quick stopover in Pisa*, please see the Cinque Terre Picture Album. Next (and last) stop: Venice!

*I would like to note that the faulty foundations under that stupid tower was the best thing that ever happened to Pisa. If that tower were straight and plumb, no one would have ever heard of Pisa, much less bought any overpriced sandwiches from the millions of surly vendors on the main drag. Not that I'm bitter or anything.