Vernazza, Cinque Terre

On the ride back to Castelmuzio I had time to reflect upon my experience in Italy so far.  Despite the various mishaps, I am really enjoying my time here  and am soaking in the ambiance and the slower pace of life here.  The Cinque Terre was quite different than Tuscany and the number of tourists there was a bit overwhelming.  You could certainly tell when a ferry or train had just arrived with another load of people; the crowd from the train making their way down the street to the harbour, and the people from the ferry gradually making their way up the street, all checking out  the many shops along the way.  

Vernazza’s main street is lined with shops of all kinds, clothing, souvenirs, wine, jewellery, food, gelato, a bakery and many many restaurants.  The street itself runs from the public parking lot at the top, under the train station, and sloping even further down to the harbour.  It seems the street is always busy; in the early hours of the morning it is crammed with delivery trucks, men with hand carts delivering boxes of precious cargo to the many businesses along the main drag, and shopkeepers opening up for the day. It is really quite an organized chaos.  The street is narrow with many displays, stands, tables, chairs and other obstacles that the delivery drivers have learned to navigate around.  It is quire amusing the watch them squeeze through tight spots with only millimetres to spare.  At some points the bigger trucks must stop and honk their horns for the harried shopkeepers to come out and pull back their awnings so the truck can pass by.  There are trucks bearing crates of fresh produce and fish mongers selling their catch from plastic bins set upon folding tables in the street.  Amongst all of this bustling activity the train begins to unload its first passengers of the day.   The church bells start their daily ritual of telling time on the hour and half hour as the very town seems to come alive.  

The houses here remind me of places you might find in the Caribbean, all shades of yellow, rose, terra cotta and pastel green; all with brightly coloured shutters to ward off the hot afternoon sun and the bitter winds of winter.  Some houses are so narrow you wonder how there would be enough space inside to accommodate staircases and even the tiniest of rooms.  Laundry is strung out from one window to another, or on special lines rigged with metal poles extending out above the street from small balconies and terraces.  The buildings are tall here, 4 or 5 stories with no elevators.  The town has narrow cobblestone streets with many flights of steep stairs designed only for pedestrians with the strongest of hearts and legs.  They wind throughout the village daring tourists to climb higher and higher for spectacular views over the tiled rooftops and out to sea.  The locals here are quite fit and seem to climb these streets and staircases as if they were flat land.  They are a hardy people, descendants of the fishermen who eked out a living here centuries ago.  Today there are only a few fishing boats remaining and the economy is largely based on the tourism industry.

The harbour is full of small brightly coloured boats moored along the breakwater and to strings of orange buoys in the centre of the harbour.   Boisterous children swim and play in the shallow water, laughing and playing water games.  Adults of all ages sun bath and periodically cool off by swimming in the harbour amongst the many boats.  The numerous restaurants lining the town square have their own outside areas in the square, complete with tables, chairs and brightly coloured sun umbrellas.  They are full of hungry patrons from noon until closing at 11PM.

 The noise of all this activity can be heard even at the top of the town. The ringing bells, the children’s laughs and cries,  the locals calling greetings to one another as they go about their business, the tourists and guides raising their voices to be heard over the constant drone, the trains arriving and departing, the unmistakable sound of dishes  being cleared before tables can be set for the next wave of tourists.

 The trails between the 5 towns of the Cinque Terre snake back and forth up the steep hills surrounding Vernazza.  In the distance you can see hikers stopping at intervals along the way to gaze down upon the village and the sea and to take memorable photographs to capture these scenes forever.

As darkness descends, the mood seems to change as people congregate at the bottom of the village, dressed for dinner.  They stroll about leisurely, stopping to rest on the numerous park benches to quietly talk and watch the sun go down. The tourists staying in other places have left for the day.  The sunbathers and children are gone now and the atmosphere changes to one of relaxed sophistication.  The people head in pairs and small groups to the bars and restaurants to eat and laugh and enjoy the cool evening breezes.  Dinner here is a 3 hour affair.  There are seldom second sittings as patrons tend to linger to catch up with each other and share stories about the day’s activities.  As the dinner crowd strolls back to their accommodations the town finally quiets and readies for sleep in preparation to face the fore coming day.