Fellow frozen Wisconsinites, you ready
for a travel tale? About someplace warm?
Ruthie and I had
just gotten off the train at Vernazza, one of five small fishing villages
strung in an arc along Italy’s Mediterranean coast. Known as Cinque Terra the
towns are built into the rocky cliffs overlooking the sea. They’re connected by
a small rail line tunneling through the cliffs and also by trails we-two hiking
nuts aimed to take on during our three day visit.
It
was mid-October, the off season for tourists, and this promised plenty of
places to stay. Hoping so, we started downhill toward the heart of town, our
eyes peeled for signs saying “Camera” (Room).
A tiny elderly woman suddenly singled us out of the crowd. Introducing
herself as Mrs. Nerino, she pointed at our suitcases and nodded she had a room
available. We shrugged-Why not?
As
she started leading us through a dark passageway I hesitated. A sign at the
station warned to be wary of panhandlers, pick-pockets, and the like. My overly
vivid imagination told me this passageway was perfect for being robbed by this
woman’s henchmen. Only half kidding I said so to Ruthie.
She
laughed, “Dear, she’s tiny and ninety years old! We need a room!”
Emerging
at the town’s piazza (central square), we crossed to a four story building at
the other side. Mrs. Nerino hurried us
up three flights of stairs with no stopping, while chattering Italian the whole
time. Her English-speaking son met us on the third floor and showed us the only
unoccupied room. Spotlessly clean and fully furnished, it even had, unlike
some, its own bathroom. He opened the tall window shutters to show us the view.
To
the right of our building the beautiful blue-green waters of the Med lapped the
shore of a white sandy beach. Directly below on the piazza were brightly
colored canopies for outside cafes and at the far side a jetty formed a wide
walkway lined with shops. Moored to the jetty, small fishing boats rocked
gently at anchor.
Mrs.
Nerino asked expectantly, “You like?”
I
tried my kindergarten Italian- “Va bene, Ma-ma mia!”
Ruthie
whispered, “Dear, you told her-This is
good…Mom!”
Wrapping
me up in a hug, Mrs. Nerino exclaimed, “Ah, mi filio! (my son!)” . She had just
adopted us and talk about luck! From here on she would steer us toward
restaurants serving the finest meals and to shops with the best items for the
lowest prices.
Ages
ago all the villages had built stone watchtowers at the water’s edge for
protection from marauding pirates. Atop Vernazza’s tallest tower was an open
air eatery that served delicious, fresh caught seafood. We enjoyed our first
dinner up there as the sun set over the gorgeous Med rolling in on long, slow
swells.
The
next day we hiked a trail through rock-terraced vineyards and olive groves
clinging precariously to the steep hillsides. It was warm this time of year and
we deeply inhaled the sweet fragrances from the profusion of wildflowers and
spices like sage, rosemary, and thyme.
We
met fellow hikers Anna and Eric, a young couple from Austin, Texas. When we
told them where we lived, Anna laughed, “Roche A Cri Lake? We spend two weeks
each year at a camp ground only a few miles north of you!”
On reaching
Monterossa, the northernmost of the five villages we cooled off by splashing
around in the Med’s crystal-clear waters. Afterward we broke out food from our
packs and had a sunny day picnic on the beach.
The
morning after our last full day here we were sipping our espressos at an
outside table of a bakery at the train station. Knowing us from our other visits,
the owner grinningly presented a tray of marvelous French-silk pastries. “You cannot get-a on the train without tasting
these!”
Vernazza
had offered so much charm, not to mention the stunning scenery and beautiful
weather, that we were this close to extending our stay. But other parts of Tuscany were calling us.
Besides, if we did drop in here again before heading home to Wisconsin, our other
mom would put us up again, wouldn’t she?
We did it! We actually got this set up with a couple of errors, but we did it! Ruth
ReplyDeleteAll the way to Italy to meet someone that camps in Adams County....who would of thunk it. Nice job.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the comment-even from a Republican. Keep 'em coming. lol
DeleteBravo!! Lots of laughs and learning about new places with your new blog and looking forward to more!
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it and value your remarks, whether "likes" or "dislikes".
DeleteSo I wonder how this works.
ReplyDelete