Our brisk walk to Pisa Centrale got us to the train station with just a couple of minutes to spare, and our train left for La Spezia shortly after 11:00 AM for a one-hour ride that would take us to the city that served as the gateway for what would become the most beautiful place I have ever visited. (Deep breath!) The rest of the day would be devoted to Cinque Terre, a series of five villages situated on a dramatic stretch of the northwestern Italian coast that features azure-blue seas flanked by white, sandy beaches that quickly rise up into sharp, terraced bluffs. I had vaguely browsed over this area when flipping through my Italian guidebooks for planning, but it wasn't until dozens of rave reviews from fellow hostel mates later that I decided that we really should check it out. Besides, Andrea and Jill had been desperate for at least one day on the coast.

We reached La Spezia shortly after noontime and set about finding an information desk that would answer our questions regarding Cinque Terre, how to get there, and what tickets and passes were needed. Fortunately, the first office we walked into happened to be the tourist information office for Cinque Terre, and within several minutes, Andrea, Jill, and I had each purchased an 8 euro train and hiking pass that would enable us unlimited use of the trains and all hiking trails that connected the five villages. Within half an hour, we had taken a train to Montorosso, the "fifth" and final village of the set (we had completely missed the stop at Riomaggiore) and were joyfully admiring the fantastic Mediterreanean coastline.

The rest of this report will be largely photographic, since that really is the best way to convey the majesty of this land. But I feel compelled to give a (hopefully) brief description and background of Cinque Terre first.

Cinque Terre, literally Italian for "Five Lands," is a series of five relatively small and cozy seaside towns--Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso--situated in the northwestern Liguria region of Italy, which can be said to be north of Tuscany. The landscape that surrounds these villages is rugged, rising steeply above the sea to produce often spectacular panoramic points. The vegetation can be thick, with heath covering the bluffs like green, photosynthetic fur. Despite such wilderness, the people who live here have come to cultivate the land, carving sharp terraces that have become excellent vineyards for grapes, which thrive in the warm, dynamic seaside climate.

For centuries, Cinque Terre remained a local hidden gem, relatively unspoiled in regards to large scale development. Today, it remains sparsely developed, but its beauty and majesty are no longer a secret, and hundreds of thousands of tourists and backpackers pass through the five towns each year. It's not necessarily a quiet retreat anymore; now it's a bustling retreat. Although if there's one positive that has come from increased general knowledge of the area, it is that Cinque Terre is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a designation that offers at least a bit of social protection.

We enjoyed lunch overlooking the beach at Monterosso. Or rather, I enjoyed my lunch while the girls munched on their pesto pizza and looked enviously at the sunbathers relaxing in front of a gorgeous sea of aqua, bitter that they had not brought their swimsuits so that they could tan on the beach. (I suppose I share a small bit of blame there: I had been told it was mostly walking and hiking, and that the beaches were relatively rocky, and I had passed this information onto the girls, who thus didn't bring swimsuits because they weren't expecting actual sand; neither had I.) Afterwards, we set out on a stroll along the beach so Andrea and Jill (now and always Hawaiian at heart) could satisfy their almost-instinctual desire to be near the water.

We found a jagged rock jutting out into the sea that rose at least three or four stories above the water level, and naturally, Andrea and Jill wanted to climb it. Never one to be out-ruggeded (yes I just made up a word) by a pair of girls (yes I'm simplying that statement to make it sound more comically chauvanistic), I followed them up the ragged stone and found myself totally not regretting the decision when I reached the top. Perched a good thirty five feet above the surrounding water, staring at the docile Mediterranean, with only two catamarans between ourselves and the horizon, we felt like we could linger there all day. And we commenced with the first of many rounds of patting ourselves on the back for deciding to make the trip here.

Of course, with a hike from Monterosso to Vernazza ahead of us, we couldn't actually stay there forever. This particular hike was the most difficult of the seaside hikes among the five cities, and we would need at least a couple of hours to do it. And then there were the other cities we wanted to reach. So we scampered back down the rock after a little while and went to find a restroom to use before we started with our hike.

By early mid-afternoon, we were on our way in proper. We found a gelato place that also stocked water and other beverages, and while I indulged in an absolutely divine vanilla and hazelnut gelato, the girls did the smarter thing and stocked up on water for the hike.

It was a bit more complicated than we anticipated finding the right path, but once we did, we quickly found ourselves walking up an incline that wrapped around the bluffs that edged the sea. At one point, Andrea and Jill found yet another rocky outcropping bordering the water and hiked off the trail, down the rocks, and back to sea level, dipping their feet into the water. Further exploration revealed a hidden cove chiseled by the repeated pounding of waves. It reminded me of the hidden cove Edmond Dantes dove into to discover the underwater tunnel that led to a cavern of fortunes in The Count of Monte Cristo, and I wondered if perhaps there was hidden treasure somewhere along these cliffs. After that half hour diversion, we returned to our path and continued on.

For the most part, the beginning of our hike stayed on a paved trail that featured a lot of elevation change but also a lot of careful landscaping and beautification along the path. There were many sights--both natural and manmade--to draw our attention, from the spectacular sea to fortress-like towers to the rugged yet lush vegegation that embossed the terrain around us. Everything was simply so beautiful!

As we climbed the mountainside, Monterosso unfolded back behind us, a colorful pastel medley of low rise buildings fronting a pristine coast of sand blanketing a crisp, wavy sheet of Mediterranean sea. Every glance backwards brought a new frame, a new angle, a new view at which to be amazed. And it was amazing. As much as Andrea and Jill protested (preferring the setting of Hawaii over this), I thought this was quite possibly the most beautiful paradise on Earth.

As we came over a crest, a new town appeared before us. This was surprising.  Surely, we couldn't have reached Vernazza already! That was too easy! Fortunately (or unfortunately), it was not Vernazza. Instead, we had merely reached the other arm of Monterosso, which turned out to be more like two villages connected by a strip of development--the beach we from which we had started our journey earlier. We descended back down to beach level, strolled around this small cove, and took a small break before continuing on.

As the hike progressed, we found it to be just as punishing and as beautiful as advertised. We encountered the most challenging level change in terrain I had ever experienced, often climbing dusty stone stairs that didn't seem to end. I often felt like Frodo climbing the steps of Cirith Ungol in Lord of the Rings, panting in the heat, wishing I had more water to drink. And at the same time, everytime we paused and looked out over the side, we were greeted by the most spectacular vistas I have ever seen. Surely, this harmony of nature and habitation was unmatched anywhere else in the world!

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For more photos of Cinque Terre, check out my Facebook photo albums:
CINQUE TERRE