Ok, I already talked a little about Rome, so I'll move on to Cinque Terre..., where we ventured after Rome...
CT is a collection of 5 small towns along the northern Italian coast, known for their quintessential beauty and excellent hiking along the sea cliffs.Cinque Terre, even with blurry photos, is absolutely spectacular. When you get off the platform in town, there is a huge, sweeping view of cliffs with the sparking Mediterranean before you. It is simply stunning. (No seriously, go google image this place…NOW. I’ll still be here when you get back, and the story will be much, MUCH better). We stayed in Riomagiorre, the first town. I booked an 8 room dorm in a hostel, but it wound up being a private room in an apartment style set up…AND the owners were American, to boot!
We checked out the town the first day (I bought a few disposable cameras), went grocery shopping, and made one of the most memorable meals of my life. An old standby I call “Kaitie and Daddy” pasta, named for the one dish we always make together: penne, pancetta, cream sauce, broccoli, pine nuts, parmesan cheese, and—what CT is known for—pesto. ALL was fresh. ALL was delicious, complete with a bottle of wine and our own private terrace. We had a great view of the town and the sea, and could hear the waves crashing in the distance. An American mom/daughter joined us, and we had a wonderful conversation for a couple hours, then drowsily crashed into bed.
After letting ourselves sleep off Rome, we hiked the famous Cinque Terre paths from one colorful city to the next—it was a little overcast, but still beautiful. And SO. MANY. STEPS. We took the route from Monterosso to Vernaza, and were alternately trudging along just to get it over with and stopping to catch our breath and look behind us at the amazing view. The path itself was beautiful—if treacherous. There were vineyards terraced into the cliffs that have probably been there for hundreds of years, sweet smelling lemon groves (complete with a little old man selling homemade lemoncello), and knarled olive trees. It was totally and completely Mediterranean. We packed lunches and ate our PBnJ on a cliff with an uninterrupted view of the sea and Monterosso. Stunning.
Vernazza was a hard town to beat, and was certainly the most colorful. We walked through the old monestary (CT was originally just a collection of monestaries that were connected) and then grabbed gelato (surprise?) and basked in the sun along the water. It was…perfect. : )
The next two towns we just skimmed over via train—it was beginning to rain and two of the paths were closed due to a previous landslide. We made it back to the hostel, did some laundry at a local laundromat, and met some more great people—from Italy, Australia, New Zealand, and America. So fun! After cleaning up we ate at a local restaurant, met some other American students, and continued on our way home. Walking down the street, tired and ready for a good night’s sleep, we suddenly heard “Koompen-hauuunnnn,” the Danish way of pronouncing Copenhagem, and naturally a honing signal for anyone living in there. We turned around to find another DIS student sprinting towards us….come to find out there were several groups of DIS kids milling around there. We had a drink with the guys, caught up on Kopenhavn-ish things, and went home to pack and get some sleep.
The next day began the marathon that was France. Our trains were something as follows: Riomagiorre to La Spezia, La Spezia to Genoa, Genoa to Nice, Nice to Marseille, Marseille to Cassis. If you have ever encountered the faulty Italian train system, you can understand why we were nervous. Luckily, it all ran very smoothly. It was also raining the second half of the day—leaving the gorgeous Italian coast for the clear morning light, and tunnels/fields for the rainy afternoon. The trains themselves were fine, and we met some fun people along the way.
CT Highlights:
-THE dinner
-“Me time” while hiking
-Meeting and getting to know great people in the hostel and while walking around the towns
-Realizing my bankcard would only let me withdraw 50 euro at a time. Hello unnecessary fees.
-Attempting to resurrect my horrific Spanish skills in order to talk with a man in our train compartment. Didn’t really work. Laughter did.
-Train to Nice: reaching into the overhead rack to grab my pack, while the train went around a sharp and sudden curve. Finding myself literally lying on top of the people next to me as my head dove towards the window with a resounding thud. One thought I was drunk. One thought I had a concussion. I thought I was going to die.
-Listening to four complete strangers talk for 3 hours, in Italian, without stopping. Whoa.
-Being hit on incessantly by a French man, “You American? Oh I LOVE Americans…oh you are my favorite oh my honey my baby.” …nej tak.
-Literally running from one platform to another in Nice, stepping on the train as it started to pull away
