Ken and Elise's trip

Day 23: Cinque Terre 2

Plans change. My original plan had been to spend this day quietly at the hotel which overlooked the ocean and just rest up. Sunday we would go back by train to the Cinque Terre villages and visit them all as it is only a short train ride between them. However, if Paula’s statement that there was going to be a train strike on Sunday was correct, this plan would not work. We would not be able to get to Cinque Terre at all if the trains weren’t running,

Almost no one at our hotel spoke much English but to our joy we were able to determine that one of the daughters-in-law (family run business) spoke quite passable English. I asked her about the trains--she said she had heard nothing about it but would check and get back to us. A few minutes later she came back out to the deck where we were sitting in complete pleasure watching the sea roll in. There was indeed, going to be a strike, she said. It would be national and run from 9 a.m to 9 p.m. That was a disaster to my plans--once again we had been struck by the European proclivity to call a train strike at any given time. Now we were going to have to rethink plans if we were to see CT at all.

I was reluctant to go see the villages on Saturday as since I don’t purchase anything on my Sabbath that would mean that I couldn’t go to a restaurant or buy any souvenirs. However, there really wasn’t any choice. It was this day or no day and we certainly didn’t want to come to Cinque Terre and only see Monterossa--and only the harbor area of that!

So we decided to head for the train, do the villages and save our quiet day for Sunday when there would be no trains running and we couldn’t get anywhere anyway. We were just grateful they planned it for Sunday instead of Monday when we had to get a train to Milan to catch the plane we had paid for to get us into Barcelona.

Shortly after that we were on the train to Cinque Terre with our little English speaking hotel host reminding us strongly to be sure to be back by 9 when the trains would quit or we would be stranded. There would be no taxi service to get us back to Deiva and if we did happen to snag one (unlikely as there would be many stranded people in the villages wanting taxis and there aren’t that many taxis) it would very expensive.

I really don’t know how to tell you about that day in CT. Those villages are all that they are said to be and more. The natural beauty is almost beyond description. Every corner turned is another “WOW” said.

I think I'm going to let the photos do the talking for me for this very special day, Except I have to brag on myself a little again. Once again I hadn't done the homework I should have about the place I was going to and I didn’t know about Corniglia. Corniglia is the only one of the five villages that doesn’t have direct sea access. In order to reach the village you have two choices--take a bus or climb the Lardarina a famous set of 387 steps laid out in 33 flights. It is grueling! Horrific! Oh they are so deceptive. They are brick and so very beautiful as they wind their way up the mountain. But, because they wind so, you don’t really realize how very many of them there are.

Ken spotted the bus which showed up right at the train station. We saw people climbing on, but we knew nothing about it. Ken frowned and said “I think that bus is taking people up. I wonder how we can get on it.”

Well I had seen a sign on the bus saying “Show the driver your ticket” and since I don’t buy things on Sabbath I was opposed to purchasing a ticket. Besides most people were headed for the stairs. “We can just climb like all those people are doing,” I said airily.

Well let me tell you, by the time we got to the top I wasn’t so airy at all. I thought I might die. Gasping for air, I staggered up the last step.

Was it worth it? Yes, one time. There are a number of benches placed for the struggling climber to rest. And the scenery along it is stupendous (I’m running out of superlatives for describing things). I’m glad I did it the one time now that it is over. But I probably would figure out a way to take the bus the next time.

We saw such beauty I just can’t tell you. I absolutely love this place. However, by the time we got to Riomaggiore (our last village) we were out of steam. It is way too much to try to visit all five villages in the same day. Way too much climbing. Way too much heat.

In Riomaggiore I gave out. I climbed up a bit, and that was it. Ken put me on a bench to rest while he walked on to see what there was. And I had a bit of a fun thing happen. At first I was the only one on the bench. But after awhile, a couple rather elderly ladies arrived--dressed to kill let me tell you-and joined me. A few minutes later a couple more came and politely asked me if there was room for them. I scooted down and watched as these old ladies proceeded to greet each other as long lost friends. There was lots of hugging, cheek smacking. and “bella bellas”. Soon another lady arrived. Room on the bench was becoming sparse. On occasion an elderly man or two would pass by and there would be extravagant and hearty greetings between all with the men pausing to kiss each lady. Finally, I figured it out. This was the village “grandmother bench” where the “in” mamas gathered each evening to greet each other and discuss the affairs of the day. Although none of them would have dreamed of hinting it to me (their manners were definitely old-fashioned and lovely), I was on “their” bench. Soon after that Ken arrived back and I left them to their “bench” but not before getting a photo or two of them. It was such fun!

Both of us exhausted, but both of us in love with Cinque Terre, we headed back to our beloved hotel. We got there in time--no Gorths stranded by a train strike that day!

It had been a wonderful day.

End of Day 23 NOTE: Unless otherwise captioned, these are just typical scenes from the five villages